Rudy Can't Fail

Nat's cab pulls up outside the house and I watch through the curtains as she gets out and straightens her hoodie. She has this weird look on her face and she's wringing her hands. Could it be that Nat, with the balls of steel and mouth like a truck driver, is nervous? I chuckle and turn to Frankito as I hear the doorbell ring.

"Okay, little man, you ready?" I say, crouching to meet his eyes.

"Are you?" He asks me, a bit unsure of my question.

"Born ready. How about you answer the door." I breathe, straightening up and turning to watch him run out the room. I walk to the hall and see him undoing the latch on his tiptoes.

"Hi. I'm Frankito. " He says, opening the door wide then stepping back to let Nat come in.

"Well hi Frankito, I'm Nat." She offers her hand to him, smiling as he shakes it. "Nice to meet you."

Turning to me, he beams "Daddy, she's pretty."

"I know, son." I smile back at him.

She's standing there looking awkward but then she crouches down to him and says "And your even better looking then your Dad!"

Frankito laughs and leans over to her to whisper in her ear. "I know. I think that all the time!" He hadn’t got the low voice down just yet. Looking at me, he giggles, then runs upstairs.

"Why thanks, Kito!" I yell after him.

Walking over to Nat, who by this time, is laughing, I pull her up and into my arms to give her a soft kiss.

"Hey you." I whisper into her neck.

"Hey…cute kid! Nice place you got here, Mr Cool. It looks so much bigger in the daylight." Stepping out of my arms, she looks around the hall and past me, into the kitchen.

"Thanks." I smile at her.

"Where'd he go?" She asks, walking through the house to the kitchen and taking a seat at the dining table.

"His room probably, but he'll be down when the food arrives."

"Aha; like father, like son. So what are we having? I'm so hungry I could eat a scabby dog." She says, unzipping her hoodie and scratching her stomach.

"Pizza." I go to the cupboard and get a couple of glasses. "So, your cool with Billie and Mike coming over?" I say cautiously. "I mean, I could always call them and cancel."

"Pizza sounds good. And no, I don’t want you to cancel, I want to meet them." Smirking as her eyes follow me around the room.

Pouring out some lemonade, I hand her a glass, and we both look up to the thundering that was coming down the stairs.

"Hey! Slow your roll, Tootsie, or you'll have an accident!" I say to the tornado that is my son. He slows down to a brisk walk as he enters the kitchen, armed with pens and paper.

"Sorry, Daddy." He's all breathless, cheeks puffed out and red faced.

"What’ve you got there, Franktio?" Nat smiles at him, patting the chair next to her.

He walks past me and hops into the seat, putting his pens and paper on the table and fixing her with a bashful look.

"Well Daddy says you can draw really good and I thought we could draw together."

"Come on, Bud. I don't think Nat wants to…"

"I'd love too. So what d'you want to draw?" She interrupts me with a death stare and turns back to Frankito.

"Um…an aeroplane? Or maybe a police car…no…a fire truck!!" Frankie's visibly excited and bouncing on his seat.

"Sure." She grins at him. Reaching for a pen, they both start sketching things out, chatting about nothing and everything all at once.

"Well I guess I'll go order some food." I sigh contentedly, taking the phone off its holster on the wall and keying in the pizza parlour's number.

So far, so good.

***

We sat down to eat, and I watched as Tre fawned over Frankito. Making sure his elbows were off the table and wiping his face, when Frankie got tomato sauce on his cheek.
It was a side to him I hadn't seen and he was a such a great Dad. Everyday I learned things about Tre and I was enjoying it- this was going better than I expected and any fears I had about our ‘relationship’ were disappearing.

I was gonna tell him how I felt, but I had to find the right time.

The afternoon flew by; after we were done eating in the kitchen, Frankito, or Frankie- as he asked me to call him, had led me to the basement by my hand.

"Where we going, Frankie?"

" To see my Dad's drums. He's really good, you know!" He was so proud of his father. He had puffed out his chest and strutted as we walked.

"You think so?" I was in awe of this little boy. So like his Dad; so charming and mischievous. I couldn’t help but fall I love with him.

"Yah. He's the best. Even Ramona thinks so!"

Later, house was quiet except for the babble coming from the television. Tre and I were sitting on his sofa, as he had just put Frankito down for the night.

He was the cutest kid ever. So full of energy like his Dad and funny too. With the cutest brown eyes, and dimples to boot; he was gonna be a heartbreaker when he was older. And I think he liked me, too. Earlier, he had laughed at me teasing his Dad, asked me about England, showed me his room and even climbed into my lap to give me a cuddle, before he went to bed.
I think Tre was a little surprised too, cos I remember him saying that it took Frankito a while to warm up to people.

"He likes you." Tre said softly into my hair.

"Good. I like him too." I said quietly, stifling a yawn. My head was beginning to pound a bit harder then before, so I rubbed at my temples, causing Tre to shift a little. I was going to the Doctor's tomorrow, I didn’t bother to tell Tre about it as I had it sorted.

"Yeah, you seem to have an effect on the Wright men." On seeing me rub my head, he asks "Are you ok?"

"Uh huh, just a headache." I say, sitting up to graze his lips with a kiss, which he deepens quickly. His hands are about to slide my hoodie off my shoulders when;

"You know, you should really tone down the P.D.A's when you have guests." Billie Joe says loudly.

We obviously hadn't heard he and Mike come in.

"What are you two? Stealth Ninja's in training? What's with sneaking up on us like that!" Tre says, re-adjusting himself.

"Well we wanted to catch you guys in action." Mike moves in our line of vision.

Laughing, I got up and went over to shake both their hands in turn. "Aha, the infamous Billie Joe Armstrong and Mike Dirnt."

"Hey, that’s not the kind of greeting I was expecting!" Billie says, pulling me into a hug. "I'm the 'hugging' type…I see what you mean Tre!" He says as he steps back, to get a look at me.
"Nice a-" Falling onto the sofa, to settle in the spot I had just vacated. I raise my eyebrow and look at Tre, who looks back at me with a butter-wouldn’t-melt expression, while Billie recovers and finishes his sentence “…arms.”

"Hey." Mike offers, also hugging me. He starts humming a very familiar sounding tune, as he walks over to the armchair by the window and sits down.

Realising what the song was, I look at Mike who's now smiling and whip my head back to Billie, as he has also decided to join in the humming.

The guy's rendition of Baby Got Back gets louder with Tre finishing it off:

"Shake it! Shake it! Shake that healthy butt! Baby got back!" The Green Day trio burst into laughter.

"My anaconda don’t want none, unless you got buns, hon!" I say back, shaking my arse at them, throwing in a slap on my bum for good measure. Well, when in Rome…

The guys look at me in surprise and then burst into laughter again, this time louder.

"We better keep it down or Frankie will get up" Tre says, still giggling.

I sit on the arm of the sofa, next to Billie Joe. I take a minute to look at them all. I mean, I'm in a room with Green Day and they sang a song about me! Not the song I'd personally choose, but hey! I have to take this all in- Max was gonna have a cow when I told her!

Before I have time to catch my breath, Billie has pulled me down next to him.

"Tre, my man, why don’t you go us some beers, so me and Mike here can get to know some more about the woman who's got you so fucking pussy whipped, you cant drum in time!" Both he and Mike start laughing and I raise an eyebrow.

"Tre and a problem with rhythm? I'm really finding that hard to believe." I say looking over at Tre, who's now flushing a rosy shade of pink. "He's always on beat when we're…"

"How about them beers!" Tre cuts me off, standing up and making his way to the kitchen, not before looking at me and wiggling his eyebrows.