"I like this one," Owen says with a smile. He's missing the tooth next to his front one and it just makes him all the more adorable. "Do I still get my bed?"
"Of course, buddy." I follow him back out to the living room area. The medium-gray vinyl flooring is also different from the carpet we had in our old house. I won’t have to constantly remind Owen to be careful not to stain anything. "Remember that we packed everything in the truck before we came here. We'll have to get it all out tomorrow."
"I want my toys now," Owen says. He stops in front of the glass door and immediately presses his hands to it, leaving smudges. Yeah, I might not have to clean carpet, but I'll need to keep glass cleaner on hand. "I wanna play."
I stop at the thermostat and adjust the air so it will kick on and cool down the place a little. Owen has already moved on to open all the doors in the kitchen by the time I look back. I sigh and follow behind him, closing each one as he moves on to the next. Inquisitive mind and all. I remind myself each day that I'm going to let him learn as much as he wants from life. If that meansopening every cabinet and asking to look at the ones up top, I'll oblige. I was forced to "act right" way too young by my parents. I don't remember getting to be a kid very often.
"Can we get my trucks out?" Owen asks once he's satisfied with the kitchen. "I want to build a big track across the whole room."
"I'm sorry, buddy. The boxes are piled way in the back. We'll have to get it all tomorrow."
I can see the pout a moment before his little foot stomps on the floor. "I wanna play! There's nothing in here to play with."
"That's why I told you to pack a couple of toys in your bookbag, remember? We can go out and get those."
"No, I want my trucks!" Owen folds his arms across his body, and I start preparing for a meltdown while hoping I can talk him down.
"We can't get to your trucks right now," I repeat in a gentle tone. I squat down to be on his level. His bottom lip is stuck all the way out in full-on pouting mode. This is just one step away from the waterworks. "How about we walk around and see what there is? I saw a place where we could go get food just a few minutes from here? I bet they have chicken nuggets."
I can see the fight Owen is having in his little mind. Like most five-year-olds, chicken nuggets are his favorite food. But he also really loves his trucks.
The food wins out after a minute. I give myself a mental victory dance for a meltdown avoided and stand back up. He starts complaining again when I make him wear his hat. The sun is really hot here in August. I didn't account for that at all. Three minutes later, Owen is rightfully complaining that it's too hot, so I bend down to scoop him up and carry him. He isn't too heavy for me to carry yet and, even though I'm sweating myself, I won’t miss the opportunity. Who knows when it will be the last time?
The restaurant is a diner just outside the neighborhood. The cool air greets us when I open the door and a bell chimes above our heads. I set Owen on the ground and take his hand. His cheeks are already turning red despite the hat.
"Well, hello." An older woman greets us with a smile. She has silver hair, wrinkles around her eyes, and is wearing a floral dress and compression socks. Every bit the grandma vibe. She immediately grabs a menu and leads us to a table. "Welcome to Ma's. I'm Ma. My husband and I run this place together."
I help Owen onto his seat before sitting on my own. The place doesn't give modern vibes at all, more a mix of 50's diner and retro with the square tiled floors, the counter that stretches across most of the space, and the mismatched chairs and tables. The tall windows let in a lot of natural light throughout the space though. I notice a group of guys, not much younger than me, it seems, sitting in a corner booth talking and laughing.
"What can I get you two to drink?"
"Water for both of us," I say.
"I want chocolate milk," Owen declares immediately.
"No, you can get water right now." I fix him with a look before turning back to the menu. It's just one side, so it doesn't take me long to see what I want. "You had a chocolate milk earlier."
"But I want chocolate milk." Owen raises his voice and I can see the few patrons in the diner glance our way, including the young guys.
"And I said no." I remain firm on that. If we have to walk back in the heat, the last thing I need is for his stomach to be upset and for him to get overheated. That chocolate milk would surely makea reappearance. "I'm sorry. Two waters, please. And I'll just have a cheeseburger, and he'll have some chicken nuggets. We'll share the fries."
"Oh honey, I'm so sorry." Ma turns to me and mouths the dreaded words:
We're out of chicken nuggets right now.
Chapter Two
“…gettingcaptain?”myroommate,Israel, asks. I grimace as I turn back to face him. It’s not my fault that I’ve been distracted by the cute man who just walked into Ma’s place with his even cuter kid.
Yeah, I know: I’m a twenty-two-year-old guy who likes kids. I can’t help it. It’s ingrained in me. I have a herd of nieces and nephews, for one thing, and for another…well, let’s just say I get along with little ones and leave it at that.
“Gabe!” Izzy kicks at my shin, obviously irritated by my lack of attention.
“Sorry, Iz,” I apologize, giving myself a mental shake. “What were you saying?”
Israel sighs dramatically and rolls his dark eyes, then looks to the others at our table with an expression that begs the question ‘why do we put up with this guy?’ Marshall and Noah just shrug back at him and bite into their burgers.
“I was asking who you think is getting captain this year,” Izzy repeats himself, still sounding frustrated.
