Guilty Pleasures

Saturday morning I sipped iced tea from a can on the bed while watching TV in my puny hotel room. I'd read the paper and circled several potential apartments for my son and I. I'd been waiting for him for over a week and Ann still hadn't called. She'd mentioned she had a lot of paperwork to file and I guessed that's what held her up.

My phone went off and I eagerly answered it with a breathless hello.

"Hi. It's Kit."

I'd heard guardedness in his voice which put me on alert. "Kit. Hello, how are you?"

"Fine, I-I just called to tell you my neighbor, the one I said could probably babysit for you, wants to meet you. You can come now and I'll introduce you to her."

Oh. He didn't want to get back together. My heart ached to have him in my arms again. With a dejected sigh, I agreed to go to his apartment and then meet Mrs. Peggy Walters, the so-called elderly woman who lived next door to him.

I just had to tie my shoes and drive over to Kit's, but it happened to be harder than I counted on. I checked my image in the mirror more than once and had changed my shirt three times. After a spritz of cologne, I made myself leave the hotel.

It turned out that to knock on Kit's door frightened me. I stood there staring at the number of his apartment. I wanted him back, but afraid that when he opened his door he'd show no emotion toward me, or that he'd have a guy there who'd taken my place. Maybe I should consider moving back to L.A.. The thousands of miles between us ... no, it wouldn't ease the pain in my heart.

My knuckles rapped loudly on his door and I had to wait a minute before I heard him unlock it. I nearly died at the sight of him, he looked that good, albeit a little gaunt.

"Hello." Keep it formal, my mind told me.

"Richard." Kit acknowledged and nodded quickly. "Give me a minute." He walked out of sight.

I stood there in the hallway looking in and saw two men his age lounging in the living room with beer in their hands. Models. They had to be. Both were ridiculously good looking. I gazed at the floor brooding. Kit had called me by my full name, he hadn't invited me inside, and he'd expressed detachment in his eyes when he opened the door. I was downhearted. He was over me within a week.

Kit came toward me with his eyes on the carpet. "Okay, let's go."

Let's go? Both of us? "I appreciate you taking time out of your Saturday to do this. I'm sure you have plans." I tried to make small talk, but he didn't reply. He came into the hall and closed his door. I couldn't help gazing at the back of his neck. I remembered what his skin tasted like and I craved that flavor now.

He turned and caught me staring. He didn't react at all! He motioned with his hand that we walk down the hall. At least I'd obtained an eyeful of his ass as he walked ahead of me. It brought back fond memories of when I kissed, licked and buried myself in the sweet flesh between his round cheeks.

Mrs. Walter's door opened before Kit knocked.

"I've been expecting you, come in. Come in." She ushered us inside.

She appeared around the age of fifty as Kit said, nowhere near elderly. Her hair was predominantly grey, but at one time it all had been dark brown. "Thank you Mrs. Walters, I'm Richard Parker. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Call me Peggy, everyone does. Now, take a seat anywhere. Would you boys like something to eat and drink? I made lemonade and cookies," she said, already heading for the kitchen.

I looked around. Her apartment layout was identical to Kit's, only decorated differently and a bit like how my grandparent's home looked: embroidery on table surfaces, pictures in old frames on the wall, and throws draped over chairs and on the couch.

I chose to sit on the couch. Kit took a chair and kept his gaze in the direction of the kitchen.

"How have you been?"

"Fine." Kit still hadn't given me a look, not even a peek.

"Good." I nodded and laced my fingers together. It seemed like forever for Peggy to come back and when she did, I found out why. She carried a tray with three glasses of lemonade and a plateful of fresh baked cookies, but one of her hands looked like a claw. I'm sure she couldn't use it well.

"Help yourselves." Peggy said, setting the tray on the oval coffee table and sat next to me. "How old is your boy?" she asked me.

"He's three years old. What I'd need is for you to watch him weekdays from 7:30 am to 5:00 pm." I brought a glass of lemonade to my lips. My face puckered from drinking the extra tart summer beverage.

"I can do that. I would like to meet the little one first before I decide to watch him."

I widened my eyes. Instead of me interviewing her to see if she were fit for the job, she would determine whether she would babysit him or not.

I heard Kit snicker at her demands and then he stood up. "Now that you know each other, I'll be on my way."

"Bye dear, don't be a stranger." Peggy waved to him.

Longing for him, I watched him cross the room to the door. "Bye, Kit," my voice cracked.

"Bye." He glanced at me. I witnessed the look in his eyes change. The only word to describe it? Turmoil. He wheeled around and practically ran out of Peggy's apartment, discarding my look of concern for him.

"That boy is always on the move ... except lately." Peggy shook her head. "He must be ill. He's in that apartment playing the TV or the stereo loud and he has parties, but lately it's been quiet and usually that's when I know he's gone, except he's not gone. He's there. Some kind of model or something." She flapped her good hand.

I shrugged. If she wanted to know she'd have to ask Kit. "May I ask you about your hand?"

"Oh that happened years ago." She turned it palm up then back again. "I worked in a factory and I guess I must have been daydreaming because suddenly I felt the worst pain in my life and looked down. My hand had caught in the machinery. The doctors did what they could to save my hand, but sadly it's badly mangled and almost useless." She wiggled two fingers and her thumb, but her range of motion was greatly compromised. "I'm on disability now which is good because I'm raising my granddaughter. She's fifteen."

We talked some more and I told her my situation with Dawson. We laughed and joked and shared stories and when I rose to leave, she said, "I like you Richard. I think Dawson and I will get along fine. I'd like to meet him. Bring him over when you have time. I hope we click, but if we don't, it may take more time for him to become used to me. You may need to come with him and stay for a while before you leave him here full time. Call me."

"I'll do that." I took the post-it note she'd handed me with her name and number on it.

On the elevator on the way down, my phone rang. I answered it thinking it'd be Kit and he'd ask to see me. I was disappointed when I heard a female voice. I almost burst into song when I realized the voice was that of Ann James.

"I hope you're doing well."

I beamed. "Yes, I am now. How are you?"

"I'm great. I have a little boy who needs a home." I was the fish, Dawson the bait, and she effortlessly reeled me in.

"I can't wait!" I wiped the tears from my eyes. The elevator dinged and I left the building. "When?"

"In an hour if you're not busy."

"Today?"

"Or tomorrow if you prefer."

"No, today. I want to see him today."

"Are you at the same apartment?"

"No. No, I'm not. I'm staying in a hotel. I promise you that I am looking for a decent place to raise him."

"You don't need to explain. As long as he's fed, cared for and has shelter, I won't judge you."

I was apprehensive since my room was loaded with toys and toddler things—not much room for a child to run and play. "I'll see you in an hour then," I said and recited my temporary address and room number. Suddenly it became imperative that I get a place where Dawson could frolic outside.
∞∞∞∞∞∞
I bit my nails, stood up and sat down. Ann and Dawson would be here any minute now. I prayed he'd take to me, but he'd been with his single mother for three years. Had he had a relationship with any men?

I saw shadows pass by my curtain and went to the door. As soon as I heard a knock, I pulled the door open and greeted Ann with a huge smile. I gazed down at her hand, her fingers wrapped around my son's small one. My son! I couldn't take my eyes off him and that caused me to appear rude.

"May we come in, Richard?" Ann asked, breaking my spell.

"Yes, please do." I tugged back a chair from the table and invited her to sit.

"My backseat has his belongings in it: a couple suitcases and boxes of Olivia's things. Would you mind bringing them inside? It's the blue Toyota."

I emptied her backseat and sat across from her. Dawson was on her lap.

"I want to say congratulations. You're the father of a bouncing baby boy." Ann laughed, making me smile.

"Dawson, do you remember me? I'm your daddy." I stretched my arm across the table and held out my hand. He drew back and shook his head.

Ann rubbed his back and soothed him. "You're going to live here with Richard."

"No. I want momma." Dawson screeched.

"Honey," I said gently to get him to be quiet so he'd listen to me. "I'm going to take good care of you. Will you take care of me too?"

My son stared at me as I spoke. I wasn't sure how he felt about me or what he thought. I hoped he wouldn't begin crying. Then relief spilled through me as he nodded.

Ann kissed his cheek and then said to me as she glanced about, "I have a list of his likes and dislikes. Remind me to give it to you. I have one question, how are you going to make food for him without a kitchen? You can't possibly eat out every night."

"I'll buy groceries that don't need to be heated and I've got some places picked out in the rental ads." I pointed to the newspaper where she could see my marks in the housing listings.

"I'm sure you'll find the perfect place for you both." Ann set Dawson on his feet, but he wanted to stay in her lap and began to whine. My heart leapt immediately. What was wrong? Would he cry after she left? What would I do then?

"There're toys over there, Dawson." I picked him up and set him on the bed where I'd put matchbox cars, plastic dinosaurs and the stuffed bear I'd introduced him to when we were at Kit's apartment.

He whined until my hands left his little body. I took my seat and asked Ann, "I don't think he likes me."

"It's not that he doesn't like you. He doesn't know you. I was told by the babysitter that Olivia dated women and you know she had no family. I'd assume she had male friends, but it doesn't matter whether he was exposed to men or not. You are the main male in his life now. Raising children isn't about the sex of the parent. He will thrive and flourish if you love him and provide him with confidence and support."

I looked at Dawson fondly. "I already love him."

"You'll fall even harder once you get to know him. It's a different kind of love than when you fall in love with a lover."

"It's unconditional." I said, turning back to her.

"Yes."

I glanced at my son and she watched him too. He made 'brruum' sounds by making his lips vibrate. It was the cutest thing I'd seen since Kit's little ass in his bikini.

"Dawson," I spoke up, "Do you like cars?"

"Yeeees."

I chuckled at his face—the 'of course I do, dummy' look.

Ann snapped open her purse and took out a folded piece of paper. "As promised, his likes and dislikes."

I took it from her and unfolded it. "He likes baths but not his hair washed?" I asked, reading the list.

"Right. Some children don't like getting their hair rinsed because soap and water can run into their eyes."

"Oh." I nodded. I scanned the list in case I had other questions as she explained, "He'll grow out of those in time. Remember, it's just a guideline. You can give him green beans if you want. Just because the babysitter wrote that he prefers not to eat them, doesn't mean you can't try. I encourage you to expose him to new things."

"Peeeee." Dawson stood on the bed.

"He wants his diaper changed, would you like to try?"

"Umm" I'm sure I appeared frightened.

"I'll be right here to give you a hand if you need one." Ann said, looking ready to laugh at me.

"I'll give it a shot, why not?" I grabbed a diaper and baby powder from the dresser and set them on the bed.

"I'm going to change you." I told Dawson, who shook his head no. "Yes, I am." I told him, stung by rejection, and pulled down his sweat pants.

"Lay down." I said in a nice tone and motioned with my hands.

"No." He tried to pull his sweats up but I was faster. I lay him on the bed, removed the soiled diaper, and thought with a smile, 'Way to go Olivia. He's circumcised just like his daddy.'

Dawson began to kick and turn. "Help?" I said while holding his legs.

Ann spoke strongly, "You're doing fine. It's natural for kids to squirm. The whole process is one that you try to do as fast as possible.

I broke out in a sweat from struggling with him.

"Peee!"

"Oh! You have to go to the toilet?" I pulled him up and carried him to the bathroom. I put the toilet seat up and set him on his feet, but he was too short. I'd have to hold him up for him to make it in the toilet, and that's what I did for about five minutes until he finally went.

"Yay!" I set him down and clapped. "You did it!"

He ran out of the bathroom, climbed up on the bed, and lay perfectly still.

"What a good boy!" Ann gave positive feedback. "Good job!"

"You are a big boy." I smiled at him as I raised his legs, scattered a fine dusting of powder on him, then slid the diaper beneath him. "Hm." Something wasn't right. I figured out I'd put the diaper upside-down and that's why it wouldn't fasten the right way.

"There." I told him, pulling his sweats up and fitting the elasticized waistline around his middle.

"Great job, Richard." Ann congratulated me as she rose from the chair. "I think you'll be fine, but if you have questions please feel free to call me."

Dawson rolled over and stood on the bed. "Go?"

"Yes, I have to go. You'll stay here."

"Me go too." He held out his arms and wiggled his fingers at Ann.

"No honey." Ann went to him and hugged him. "You'll have fun here. I promise. You like Richard, don't you?"

Dawson's big eyes stared at me while I put on a happy face for him. He buried his face to her chest.

"Now be a big boy." Ann said to him and sat him on the bed. She stepped away before he could cling to her again.

"Richard, it's been a pleasure and you'll forgive me if I quickly slip out before he pulls at my heartstrings again."

"No problem." I hurried to the door and opened it. She waved once more to Dawson, who maneuvered himself off the bed, legs first. Ann snuck out and I closed the door and locked it.

"It's just you and—"

Loud crying, crocodile tears, depressed lip corners, flared nostrils and a quivering chin is what I saw. Dawson wailed. Fear overcame me that I'd be reported for child abuse by my neighbors. I crouched and held my arms out with hopes that he'd come to me, but he didn't. He ran away, kicked his way onto the cot, and laid facing away from me. I pushed my hair off my forehead. I went around the cot to speak to him, but he cried louder, turning his head the other away. I sighed and kneaded my temples. The noise was unbearable and there were no signs of him slowing.

"Do you want some juice?" I asked, reaching for a juice box. I was met with more howling and bawling. I couldn't win. I sat at the end of the cot with my head drooped, ready to join him in crying.

It had been forty-five minutes and the shooting pain of a headache had been born forty-four minutes ago. I was going crazy and I didn't know what to do for my son. What kind of father am I to let him cry? I'd tried everything, but it wasn't enough. I must have forgotten something. In my desperation, I called Wil, but he didn't answer—probably out with Kane. Fed up with Dawson's crying, I made a bad decision. I had the phone to my ear listening to Kit's phone ring.

I half expected him not to answer as he could see who was calling. He'd probably ignore me. It shocked me to hear his gentle voice.

"I need help. I don't know what to do. Dawson is here. He won't stop crying and I have a headache and I tried everything."

"Did you change him?" Kit asked.

I poked my index finger in my other ear so I could hear. "Yes."

"Is he hungry? Tired? Is he hurt?"

Kit sounded concerned and sane, unlike me. "I don't think so. Can you help? Can you come and look at him for me?"

"And do what? I'm not an expert on kids."

I didn't answer him right away, overwhelmed with disappointment by his unwillingness to help me. Feeling alone, I felt tears form in my eyes. "I apologize. I shouldn't have called. Goodbye."

"Wait. I'll come over, but just to see if I can do something. You didn't spank him, right?"

"No, I never would."

"Hm, okay. See you in a few. Bye."

I hung up with a relieved smile on my face and noticed the silence in the room. I rose and went to the side of the cot and saw my son's tear-streaked and red face. His curls were wet and plastered to his forehead, and his eyes were closed. He'd cried himself to sleep!

I had to wake him before Kit arrived or he'd think I'd deceived him. Yet, I really, really enjoyed the silence. Disheartened, I called Kit back.

"I'm almost there."

"You don't have to bother. He's fallen asleep." I rubbed my tired eyes. I needed a nap too.

"I'm close. I'll just stop in to see if things are alight."

I was standing in the open doorway when he arrived. I watched him park the car, get out, and saunter to me. He wore different clothing from what he had on this morning. He'd actually dressed up. Did he have a date? He'd said models asked him out. Maybe he took one up on the offer?

"Hi." I nodded and swung my arm inside for him to go first. I smelled cologne when he walked past me. "Am I keeping you from something?" Or someone.

His body angled to me. "No, why?"

"You look and smell nice, better than nice, delectable." I closed the door and leaned against it with my arms crossed on my chest. "I thought maybe you had a date."

"Me? No." He shook his head and quieted his voice, "No, we're on a trial period, remember?"

I looked at him confused. He'd dressed up for me? I spoke up, "The last time you talked to me, aside from this morning at Peggy's apartment, you told me to leave. I thought you'd made up your mind."

"I told you to leave because I was pissed off. You gave me the worst case of blue balls I've ever had." He snickered with his hand covering his mouth so he wouldn't wake my son.

"Then why did you act so distant to me this morning?" I asked as I walked to him.

"I thought you were mad. You were so formal so I gave you some room." Kit gazed into my eyes. "Um," He broke eye contact and looked at Dawson. "So he's asleep now. He could have been tired."

"Well, he began right after Ann left. He wanted to go with her. I don't think he likes me much."

"He'll love you. You're very easy to love." Kit raised his hands and put them on my shoulders, heightening my lust.

"You're easy to fall in love with." My lips closed in and decreased the distance between us. "I'm going to kiss the fuck out of you," I promised.

"Go ahead, try." His eyes lit up at the challenge.

It proved to be all I needed. I took him in my arms and smothered his lips with kisses and scattered them over his face, then missed his lips so much that I had to go back to them. Tasting the edges of his lips was exquisite, I thoroughly devoured them, and the inside of his mouth as my hands clutched his hips. Passions rose and our breathing increased. He began to grind against me, lightly at first, then more aggressively.

Our heated desires took us to my bed. We lay side by side and continued to kiss each other with my hand cupping one side of his ass. His one hand lay on my chest and he rubbed the back of his fingers against the bulge in my pants with the other.

He hummed and drew his head back. "Think we could go in the shower?"

"Why?"

"I think you know why." He said seductively, rose on an elbow, and nodded to Dawson.

"What if he wakes and I'm not here?" I worried. He'd think I'd deserted him, maybe he thought that of his mother too? But his mom couldn't come back and I could.

"He'll be fine." Kit's eyes came back to mine.

"I'll do it if we keep the sounds to a minimum and the door halfway open." What was I doing? This had to be wrong. Kit hadn't made a choice yet, his motive being purely sex. His thoughts were not for Dawson or me.

"Deal!" He scampered off the bed, took off his shirt, shoes, socks and jeans. I continued to rub my head. To my good fortune, my cell went off and I answered it eagerly to pause what Kit and I were about to do.

"Hey, it's Wil. You called?"

"I did. How are you?' I noticed Kit put his hand on his hip and cocked his head. His expression showed impatience.

"Great, and you?"

"I had a minor crisis earlier, but I'm fine now. Dawson came to live with me today and he cried for the better part of an hour after the lawyer left. I was going insane, then he happened to fall asleep, thank God."

"I don't know the first thing about children, you know that. What advice could I have given you? I'd have suggested something stupid like stand outside and let him cry it out." He chuckled.

"I just needed another adult to talk to, to calm me down." I saw Kit enter the bathroom out of the corner of my eyes. "Did you ask Kane out?"

"Yes, I did."

I could tell he had a huge grin on his face. "And?" I asked, curious how the date went.

"As a friend he's great, as a date he's wonderful—a true gentleman. He opened doors for me and even ordered for me at the restaurant. You remember 'Spice', right?"

"It's one of your favorite restaurants, yes."

"After we ate, he ordered a piece of volcanic chocolate cake to go and paid the check."

"The cake that has the gooey chocolate center?"

"The very one. He took me to his place and undressed me. He ate the cake off my body, oozing chocolate and all. He fed me too with his fingers. The whole experience was very sexy." Wil had spoken with a euphoric tone to his voice. I admitted to being delighted for him and that he'd found happiness and enjoyment with our mutual friend. "Tell Kane hello from me."

"Will do. How's the kid, I'm talking about Kit, not the three year old."

"I knew that. He's here." I cupped the phone to speak privately. "He wants to have sex, but he hasn't made up his mind whether he wants me around permanently. I don't know what to do. Any suggestions?"

"Fuck him."

"Um, are you saying I should tell him to go to hell, or actually fuck him." It wasn't obvious in his voice what he meant.

"Do it with him to relieve some of the stress you're under. I can sense how tense you are."

I thought about what he'd said. It would help me and it would serve a purpose for Kit as well. It would show him how much I loved him.

"All right," I succumbed and told him goodbye.

Dawson roused and rolled over. His cherry colored mouth was wet with saliva. He looked so peaceful. I had a moment of tranquility and love pulling at me. I stood beside his bed and caressed his hair, delicately so he wouldn't wake. His soft brown tresses were still damp from his crying jag.

"Psst, Ricky," Kit called from the bathroom. I saw his head poke out. "Hurry up."

I glanced at Dawson again and leaned down to kiss his forehead. He didn't stir, so I undressed and laid my clothes on my bed, then I dug through my shaving kit for lube.

"You're so sexy." Kit's hands whispered over my chest. "Do you want to start the shower or I had the fantastic idea to do it on the counter. That way you can hear Dawson clearly if he wakes."

I beamed. "You're a genius, and very thoughtful. The counter it is."

Kit hopped up and scooted his ass to the edge. His shoulders pressed against the mirror and his arms held himself in a half sitting position. He raised his legs, wrapped them around me and pulled me to his waiting body. Nestled between his legs, I used the lube and two fingers to loosen him up, all the while telling him to shush when he groaned. I became more turned on by being inside his tight entrance, my digits curling against the walls of his interior to stimulate his prostate.

He begged me in desperate winded breaths, "Now please, now."

I slid my fingers up and down my shaft and added more lubrication before I glided into him. We both exhaled a contented sigh when I snuggled all the way and he'd molded around my cock.

I took a moment to listen for Dawson. It was quiet and I proceeded by slowly pumping to explore every inch of him. I kept the pace even and slow and I'd lifted his leg and rested it on my shoulder wanting him more accessible to me. I held onto both of his legs to hold my balance as I snapped my hips back and forth.

His low broken moans painted a vivid picture—a delicious image telling me I was doing right by him. His sweaty body trembled and his legs twitched in my hands. I saw his stomach muscles contracting and felt the sensation of his hole clenching my cock.

I stopped to prolong the anticipation. In his pre-orgasmic state, Kit groaned and pled for more. Inspired, I drove myself into him repeatedly, watching devotedly. He grasped his cock, thrust into his hand, and added a twisting motion on the upstroke when his palm touched the crown of his dick.

I continued until the world around us faded and all I could hear was our breathing, moans and the wet slapping of my body colliding with his, unaware of anything else. He and I were the only ones that existed at this moment, the moment when my thrusts lost rhythm and I came.

I took a cleansing breath, took over for his hand, and stroked him the way he likes it when I touch him. His swollen cock felt rock hard, yet smooth in my fist. I yanked and pulled at it with a gentle hand and soon the change in his fevered pitch told me he'd approached his summit and the point of no return.

"Christ you're beautiful." Kit told me. At least I think that's what he said. The sounds that came from his mouth had been deep and a bit inarticulate.

"Look at you. You're gorgeous, I'm so lucky to have you in my—" I rapidly halted. Was he in my life? I didn't know and I didn't care now. I picked up the pace, internally cognizant of what he was feeling: a sultry river in his veins, the strumming of his nerve endings and the tingling below as his nuts tightened and pumped out his release. Strong jets hit his stomach and drizzled down my fist. His heart beat heavily, pulsating with his orgasm until he blinked heavily, drained of energy. He took a loud, labored breath and looked at me with a glow in his eyes.

"I'm crazy in love with you," I said.

"You are?"

Oops! "Did I say that aloud?" The heavy scent of masculinity hit my nostrils as I brushed my hands up and down his lean hairy legs.

"You did and you know it."

"No, it just came out." I bit my lip and straightened up, helping him with his legs so he sat on the counter. If I were he, I'd be really sore, but he seemed all right. "Hop in the shower before my stuff comes out."

Kit laughed. "Stuff?" It's cum. Are you embarrassed to say it?"

"No." I shook my head at his disbelieving expression. "Cum, there I said it."

Kit patted my cheek and stepped behind the shower curtain. "Are you coming in?"

"No. I'll take one later. I'm going to check on Dawson."

"Okay."

I heard him start the water upon walking out of the bathroom. Dawson was still asleep so I dressed quietly and waited for Kit on my bed. He seemed to be taking his time, so I turned the TV on and muted it. I watched some soap opera where a woman yelled and slapped her lover or husband on the cheek. I laughed to myself at how phony it all appeared.

I found an old episode of "Murder, She Wrote' and began to watch Jessica Fletcher solve a mystery. Kit tiptoed into the room naked and picked up his clothing, putting it on as slow as a stripper takes theirs off. He sat next to me on the bed and gave me a kiss on the cheek.
"Thanks for calling me." He squeezed my thigh with his thumb and four fingers.

"Thank you for coming. I didn't think you would want anything to do with me."

"I want everything to do with you. The problem is, I don't know about him." He pointed to my son, who stirred. I wasn't religious, but I prayed that he'd stay asleep. He'd cry if he woke and I didn't have enough energy to get through it alone.

"Momma?"

Oh God, here we go. I thought. I jumped up, sat on his cot, and rubbed his hand. "I'm here Dawson. Daddy's here." He was still cloaked in sleepiness and I thought for sure Kit would beat it out of here before my son fully woke. Instead, he sat and watched.

"Ease him awake." Kit advised.

"I'm trying." I said between my teeth.

"Let me." Kit took the other side and while Dawson came around, he spoke softly. "Hi Dawson, naptime is over. Are you hungry?"

Dawson began to cry when he saw our faces. I panicked and gave him the teddy bear. Kit gave me an eye roll. "Try picking him up and giving him a hug."

"Oh yeah." Duh, I thought and pulled Dawson onto my lap. He kicked and screamed. "Maybe he's still asleep and having a nightmare?" I said rather loudly over the racket.

Kit held his arms out. "Give him to me."

I passed him to Kit who addressed the three year old, "Dawson, settle down. We're nice, good people. You have to be quiet now."

Surprised by his technique, Dawson stared teary eyed at him.

Kit cackled. "See? He didn't have a nightmare, he's just afraid of old men."

I ignored him because he'd called me old plenty of times and I was used to it. "Dawson, do you want me to take you to McDonalds? Do you like hamburgers?" I asked without referring to the list Ann left for me. What kid didn't like Mickey D's?

Apparently mine.

He didn't know about McDonald's and as a healthy eater that was all right with me.

"Where do you want to go?" I saw Kit lean in and sniff the top of Dawson's head.

I called attention to his sneaky behavior. "Did he pass inspection?"

"Huh, what?"

"You smelled him." I grinned, amused. Dawson lifted his face and looked at him too, nearly falling backwards out of Kit's arms.

"He smells good, like strawberries." He took a big whiff again and hummed. "You smell yummy!" Kit told Dawson with a smile, tickling my son's ribs. Dawson giggled and wiggled before he announced, "Eat."

Kit stopped wriggling his fingers. "Tell your daddy where you want to eat." He pointed to me and Dawson glanced at me.

I put on a smile for him. "I'll look at your list, okay?"

"List." Dawson pointed to the table and pushed himself away from Kit's hold. Kit set him down. Dawson ran to the table, retrieved the paper Ann had left, and gave it to me.

"Eat at home?"

"You want to eat here?" I asked him. I ran through the groceries I'd bought, putting things together in my mind of what he'd like as I read the list.

"Home. I want momma." Dawson's lip quivered and I decided to pick him up. He cried on my shoulder while peering at Kit.

"Peek a boo." Kit said, covering and uncovering his face to play the game. It seemed to be working. He distracted my son and Dawson stopped weeping.

"He likes spaghetti." I'd read from the paper. "Do you know of a good place, not too authentic?" I bounced my son on my hip and rotated my waist from side to side.

"Madison Avenue has an 'Olive Branch'. Their noodles are homemade."

"They have that restaurant in Los Angeles too." I breathed out, relieved. "I love it. Is Madison Avenue far?"

"Depends on traffic. I'll drive. Uhh, I think you need a car thingy for him though." He tapped his chin, thinking.

"I have one. I'll put it in the backseat." I set Dawson on the floor, gave him a brand new toy and carried the seat to the car with the instructions. It took a mammoth undertaking to get it fastened in correctly. I had no idea how much time passed until I went inside and saw the lunch hour had ticked by and Kit had given Dawson a banana, now lying half-eaten on the floor.

"Please pick that up and throw it away," I told Kit, but Dawson did the job and made me proud. He'd made the mess and he owned it. I could be thinking prematurely, but I hoped he'd continued to be this responsible.

"He wanted something to eat, so I fed him. He still wants spaghetti. Did you get the thing installed or were you out there rooting through my glove compartment?"

"You don't think I'd read all those love letters, naughty magazines or unwrap the condoms in there." I smirked.

"So that's where my condoms are! I searched the apartment high and low and I'll be damned, they were sitting in the car all along." He snapped his fingers for effect and laughed.

I encountered a sense of family within the three of us. I wondered if he felt it too.

We piled into the car. I sat in the back with Dawson to keep him busy. He'd throw or drop a toy on the floor and I'd pick it up and give it back to him, only to do it again, then again for a hundred times.

As usual, Kit had fun teasing me from the front seat. Things were good. Really good. I had the confident impression he'd want a relationship with me and Dawson.