I sit at the island next to Owen. I stifle a laugh when Owen takes an exaggerated bite, making a chomping noise as he bites into the bread.
"It's how my mom made it when I was growing up," Gabe says. I look back at him, admiring the way he steps around the kitchen area with ease. "Impromptu garlic bread when it would take too long to makelangos.” The word rolls off his tongue in a wholly different accent. Something European. I want to ask him about it, but he continues, “Toast the bread, spread some butter, and sprinkle garlic salt. It was a last second decision."
"If I don't have to cook, I don't care what you do in this kitchen."
"Daddy, Gabe says we can watch the penguins." Owen interrupts. "He showed me pictures of a big penguin dancing."
"He did?" I keep my voice light, like it's the coolest thing Owen has ever told me.
"Alright, you two," Gabe interrupts us, "I hope you're hungry."
***
I wake up on Tuesday morning to Owen's alarm in his room. He's only five, but he fell in love with the duck light that doubles as an alarm clock. It quacks to wake him up. I want to throw it every morning, but I can hear him imitating the noise after he turns it off. A few seconds later, my door cracks open and he climbs into my bed.
"Daddy, wake up!" I pretend to still be asleep. I can feel Owen climb on top of me, his little hands pressed to my chest. "Wake up! We go to school today!"
He has two weeks before he starts school, but they're doing an orientation for the new class grade today. They will be showing the parents around the school and the kids where everything is in their classroom.
Owen bounces right on my bladder and I let out an involuntary grunt. He finds this hilarious.
We get our day started by brushing our teeth together. I put him in a bath and, afterward, attempt to style his hair a bit. It’s an ‘A for effort’ situation. I dress in a pair of slacks and a button up short sleeve. I want to make a good impression. Owen, on the other hand, decides to go full Paw-Patrol with his shirt and shoes. We compromise on the blue shorts to match Chase.
"Do you want to see where Daddy's going to be working?" I ask once we're buckled in the car. The sun is still rising, but the temperature is already in the high seventies and getting hotter by the minute. I crank the AC in the car.
"Yes!"
It isn't a terrible drive through Phoenix to get to my new workplace. I imagine the traffic will be thicker when schools start back up, but today it only takes twenty minutes to navigate around neighborhoods and businesses. I pull over to the side of the road when we get to the large, rectangular building. It has a dome-like top and there's a fence erected around the whole thing.
"I'll be working here, buddy."
"That is huge!" Owen exclaims from the backseat. I look over my shoulder and laugh at the gaped expression his mouth is left in. "Can I come to work with you one day?"
"Maybe, buddy. Let's get you to your school."
My thoughts travel back to Friday night when Gabe came over. We did end up watching Happy Feet. Owen fell asleep between us, his head in my lap and feet in Gabe's. I carried him to bed and tucked him in while the credits rolled.
After that, Gabe and I spent two hours talking, sharing small touches, and possibly a quiet make-out session at some point between. He answered each of my questions, and I had a lot. We talked about scenes versus lifestyle Littles, specific things that Gabe likes or doesn’t like to do from his experience, and aspects I may have Googled and found interesting. Gabe even showed me a website where you can buy clothing and other items to fully indulge in age play. On it, there are all sorts of things, from stuffies and train sets, to bottles and blocks aimed at a younger regression.There are also diapers, which I don’t think I’d enjoy. The training pants and underwear are kind of cute, though.
I push my thoughts to the back of my mind when I pull into the lot at Owen's school. Park Elementary. It's a decent-sized school, with two floors and several hallways that give the building an R-shape. There are two playgrounds to the side of the school, one clearly for smaller kids.
We check in and are directed down a hallway and to the right. Other families are mingling about, talking to teachers or each other. I feel Owen squeezing my hand a little tighter. I get it. This feels overwhelming to me, so I can't imagine how it feels to him.
"This is your classroom," I announce once we finally get through the crowd. The door is the next to last in the hall. "Your teacher's name is Miss Riley."
"Well, well," a familiar voice says behind us, "if it isn't Mister Owen!"
I turn around to find Gabe waving from two doors down. He's surrounded by three kids, all looking from him to us. Owen drops my hand without a second thought —which,ouch, dude— and runs to Gabe. Gabe, the wonderful guy he is, scoops Owen in his arms and hugs him tight. My heart does a happy dance at the sight.
"Is Owen in Miss Riley's class?" Gabe asks when he gets closer.
"He is," I answer. Gabe's smile widens.
"That's awesome!" He shifts Owen around to prop him on his hip. Owen is almost too tall to carry like that, for me at least, but Gabe is taller than me by a good several inches. "Brian is around here somewhere, but he'll be in the same class. He's one of my nephews."
A woman walks up, not disguising her curiosity as her gaze shifts between me and Gabe. "Mandy,” Gabe begins. "This is Justin. He's…"
I realize that we never discussed what we would tell others. I didn't think I'd have anyone to tell or be introduced to so soon. I lick my lips, making brief eye contact with Gabe.
