My back goes tense, and I check my watch?it’s like, seven p.m. “Wait, I forgot to pick you up from school?”
He shrugs and takes a slice of pizza; now there’s five slices missing. “I guess.”
“Shi…uh…shoot,” I mutter. “I…should have been there.”
He shrugs. “It’s cool. I used the emergency credit card to get a rideshare and then order dinner.”
I gaze at him with a puzzled look as I pick up a slice of cheesy goodness. “You did that? All because I was swamped at work?”
“It’s no big deal. You’re busy. It happens sometimes.” Aisen finishes his food and moves to the sink. “I’m not a baby.”
He’snota baby anymore. I sigh and try not to let the exhaustion and shame overwhelm me.Some guardian I am. I watch as the rapidly growing adolescent in my home washes dishes. “Still, I need to pick you up when I promise.” I glance at our recycling bin to see multiple cardboard pizza boxes piled up. “And maybe cook more often.”
“No problem,samchon,” he says. He washes the dishes while I eat. I’m grateful he’s managing to get around without me. After a beat, he gazes at me. “Are you still bringing me to the Maritime Monsters thing tomorrow?”
I smile and perk up. “Of course. I take it you’ve liked it thus far?”
He chuckles. “Yeah, I did. That shark guy knows a lot.” His smile falls, and he continues, “Mr. Dillinger is really cool, too.”
Cool isn’t how I would describe that blue-eyed beauty. Just the memory of us sharing coffee has my pulse rising. So, I get up and pile the last pizza box with the others. The messy state of my kitchen would be such an embarrassment if I brought Skyler here after a date. Which is absurd because that’s not happening anytime soon.
“I’m glad you guys are, like…friends,” Aisen says meekly.
“Yeah?” I smile and stand next to my nephew. “You lookin’ out for your uncle’s wellbeing?”
He snickers. “Everyone needs friends.”
“And you? You making buddies in high school?”
His smile falls as he finishes the last dish. “Yes. Maybe. I don’t know. Can I go for a swim?”
“Sure. Just wear a helmet when you skate.”
“Okay,” he replies, dashing out before I finish my sentence.
“Make sure it’s the helmet with the blinking lights!” With that, the door closes, and I’m alone again.
My heart aches for him. I want to probe more, but I think we’ve maxed out our deep insecurity sharing for one night. The kid needs friends, but it’s not like I can buy them for him. Maybe the Maritime Monsters Institute can make him feel less lonely.
My prayers to the monster god are answered when we get to the Institute the next morning. My nephew and I walk in to see the familiar faces of Karlo, Razorjaw, and the frustratingly attractive Skyler. Next to them are two younger folks.
“Oh good, you made it!” Skyler says. Maybe I’m imagining things, but his eyes seem to sparkle when they meet mine.
“Now we’re all here and we can get started,” Karlo says.
“Start what?” I ask. Aisen, meanwhile, curiously glances at the other kids. Two teenagers stand near Razorjaw, glancing at us with looks that fluctuate between apprehension and curiosity.
“With you, we have enough young folks for our monster liaison program to do group work,” Karlo says with a smile.
“They’re ninth-graders, just like you,” Skyler says. He motions toward the other teens, who each give Aisen a tenuous nod.
“I was informed that they can be like your pack,” Razorjaw says. He oozes naivete and charm in his human form. He raises a finger and adds, “Perhaps with less devouring each other for dominance.”
We laugh, but the teenagers give amused eye-rolls.
“What RJ means to say is that we can do more together. Also, we can really delve deep into the issues of being young monsters,” Karlo says. “You guys ready to rehabilitate some dolphins?”
“Yeah,” the teen girl says.
