Guilty Pleasures

The next few days were hard. Sunday I went to Peggy's apartment to introduce her to Dawson. We stayed a while and ate cookies and milk. I'd brought a duffel bag of toys to keep there and a few changes of clothing in case of accidents.

Dawson was nothing short of amazing. He'd relaxed after the initial fear of being in a strange place. A grin quickly shown on my son's face after Peggy's granddaughter, Lisa, walked into the living room and fawned all over him. He definitely preferred a female's presence to a male's company.

"You go on to your friend's apartment now. I'd like to see how he does alone with me and Lisa." Peggy assured me that she'd have Lisa come and retrieve me if there were any problems, but that none were foreseen.

"I don't know if he's home, but I'll see." I rose and waved 'bye-bye' to my son. He just stared and watched me go to the door. I had a sense he'd cry when I left like he had when Ann left, but he hadn't. He wasn't attached to me yet. I had to be patient and let him move at his own speed.

I knocked on Kit's door and waited. Last night's dinner at the 'Olive Branch' had been fun. Kit ate chicken parmesan while I had an Italian salad and Dawson ate spaghetti sporting a plastic bib tied around his neck.

You'd think the bib would've helped, but at the end of the night when I lifted him off the booster seat, a blob of noodles and red sauce fell from his lap and onto the floor. Tomato sauce covered his hands and sleeves and his face turned out to be just as messy. I'd taken him to the bathroom to clean up and get him to pee in the toilet, with success, while Kit paid the bill with my money; my treat for him coming over and helping out, though he joked that he only showed up for the sex.

Kit's door flew open. "Yeah?!"

"Are you mad?" I asked, seeing his face scrunched up and his hand near his ear holding a phone.

He put the phone against his chest and claimed, "Mad? No, I'm not mad. I'm fucking pissed!" He waved me in and looked behind me. I assumed for Dawson so I pointed next door.

He nodded and put the phone to his ear and spoke, "You had no goddamn right! I told you the first time. I won't do it and you cannot make me."

He strode to the kitchen and pulled the refrigerator door open hard. He held up a can of cola and I declined. He took it for himself and popped it open, then kicked the door shut.

Kit's shaking voice grew louder, fueled by adrenaline. "Then take it up with my lawyer!" He slammed the phone on the counter and slugged down the soda.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He growled as he crushed the can and tossed in the recycling bin. "That damn underwear company I used to work for wants me to come back for a month. They said I didn't fulfill my contract."

"So? Go model some underwear." I didn't see the harm.

"The thing is, is that they've got Dirk already and they want us to do a video in the underwear. It's a thong, Richard."

"Again, what's so bad about advertising thongs?"

"Because," he raised his voice, "it would be a video for online customers only. It can't be shown on TV or in magazines. They want us to be playful without being too sexual, but they want to see sexuality."

Oh, one of those videos. "I think you handled yourself well on the phone."

"Yeah? Well they had better leave me alone. I've moved on to greener pastures." Kit gave me a hug after a shake of his head. "I missed you last night. I miss sleeping with you."

"I miss you too, kitten." I pecked his ear.

"Where's your kid?" he asked, walking to the refrigerator again to get another soda.

"Peggy and Lisa's. Peggy wanted me to leave so she could ascertain whether she'd take the job. I'll be up shit's creek if she doesn't. I have to work."

"That is a problem." Kit agreed, leaning his ass against the kitchen island.

"Yeah," I murmured while thinking I could take a day off to find a preschool for Dawson if Peggy wouldn't watch him. "What are you doing today?"

Smiling, he motioned to his clothing: shorts and a ripped tee shirt. "Can't you tell? I'm off to church."

I gave an eye roll. "I shouldn't have asked."

He wrinkled his nose at me and began walking to the living room. "Have a seat with me."

We made small talk about the weather, but the way his gaze roamed over my body didn't indicate subtlety. I told him about the weather in L.A. and how I'm not used to the chill of the fall in the morning.

He pounced and laid me flat out on the couch, covering me with his hard body and showered me with kisses as his fingers raveled in my hair. I closed my eyes, allowing my other senses come to life. Kit smelled, well, like Kit. His body formed to mine, chest to chest and pelvis to pelvis, and his long legs stretched out over mine. He was a perfect fit for me. And the taste of his kisses—indescribable. The flavor burst on my tongue the same way as when I sampled the skin on his body.

We both heard his phone and after the fifth ring I asked, "Do you want to get that?"

"No," he panted and cradled my face in the palms of his hands; his long fingers extended, and brought his beautiful, plush lips down on mine again. The ringing stopped, but started back up again when he'd reached into my pants.

"Dammit!"

"It's okay. Get it, it may be important."

"I highly doubt it," Kit returned and extracted himself from my body.

I sat up, fixed my ruffled hair and my shirt. I yawned loudly. Last night Dawson had cried himself to sleep. I'd tried putting him next to me and singing lullabies, but he kept getting up and running to the door and trying to open it. I had to carry him back and give him the teddy bear I'd bought. He'd throw it and we'd begin all over.

I finally told him he'd have to sleep on the cot if he continued to cry. He went there on his own. I covered him up, gave him the teddy and he lay on his side staring at me after I crawled into my bed with exhaustion. I made myself stay awake until he fell asleep, after crying and intermittent whispering the word 'momma' again and again.

"I don't give a shit!" Kit yelled into the phone.

I walked to the kitchen, sighing at the way he seemed to get worked up easily.

"I am not doing the thong video with you, Dirk. I already talked to them, and yes, I know what they're accusing us of, but I told them to talk to my lawyer."

Dirk. I rolled my eyes. He couldn't talk Kit out of a paper bag. I had no worries of them being together sexually if they did the video.

"No I don't have a lawyer, but it sounded good." Kit laughed into the phone. "Really? Wow."

The subject of videos seemed to have shifted to something else.

"No, I won't watch it, but good luck." Kit smirked at me.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, he's right here. We're fine. He has a kid now."

I listened to him explain my situation and then he said, "No! I'm not his dad too. You idiot!" He full out belly laughed. They were back to flirting and speaking to one another as good friends.

"Yeah, he's cute, but I'm too young."

So much for my theory of Kit wanting Dawson in his life. I walked to the door, ready to pick up my son from Peggy's care.

"Hey."

I opened the door and stepped out.

"Hey, Richard!" Kit called to me. "Dirk, I have to go. Talk to you later."

"What?" I asked innocently with my brows raised.

"Where are you going?" He took my hand and spread his fingers to fit between mine.

"To get Dawson and talk to Peggy. Why?"

"No reason. You weren't going to say goodbye?"

"You were otherwise occupied and I didn't want to bother you."

"It's just Dirk. I don't care if you interrupt us. You're more important to me than he is."

I believed only 99 percent of what he'd said. I heard him tell Dirk about Dawson and the way he denied being a part of his life, so I confronted him on it.

"I-" Kit paused and I thought for sure he'd try to make something up. Continuing, he added, "I told him that to get him off my back. I like Dawson, but I don't want him to get attached to me."

"Why?"

"Look at the poor kid! He lost his mom and he's crying and mourning her. If—Oh Christ."

I understood. "If we don't make it, he'll go through that all over again, right? Isn't that what you were going to say?" I spat bitterly.

"Think about it, Richard. Think. How many nineteen year olds do you know that are in a relationship with an older man who has a child?"

"I'm sure they're out there, but I don't know of any off the top of my head. Anyway, this is about us, not some other couple."

"I don't want to hurt you or Dawson. That's why I need time... or... I don't know." He raised his hands and laced them on top of his head as his sad eyes met mine.

"So, this is it then? We're through."

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't say we're together either."

"You're so fucking frustrating!"

"Is it so wrong of me to want answers? I don't think I'm being unreasonable."

"And I am? I told you I need to think."

"Fine, you go and think. I'm leaving. Oh, by the way, during your 'think time' am I allowed to date?" That remark got the door slammed in my face. I chuckled, walked one door down, and knocked.

It turns out Peggy and Lisa loved Dawson and his good manners. How I wished I could hug his mother and thank her for giving birth to him.

Peggy massaged the fingers on her mangled hand. "As for charging you, I feel three-fifty a week is fair."

I had no idea what was fair or not, but for that amount, it sounded like Dawson would get the best care possible. In the short time I'd spent with Peggy, intuition told me she was a delightful, caring woman.

"You got a deal. Can he start tomorrow?"

"Of course, and bring me a copy of the likes and dislikes you mentioned. That will help a lot."

"I will. Dawson? Are you ready to leave?"

"Stay." Dawson stood and put his hand on Peggy's leg.

"No, we have to go. Tell Peggy and Lisa bye-bye."

His lip protruded in a pout. I almost heaved a sigh. When would my own son get used to me? I know it had been only two days, less actually. He'd been so friendly to Ann, Kit, Peggy and Lisa that I felt like an outcast, a bad guy because I'd replaced his mother.

Dawson had encounters with women more than men, but why had he accepted Kit? Then it dawned on me; the model was pretty and effeminate. Dawson thought Kit was a woman! I laughed aloud, shocking the people in the room.

"I'm sorry, I had a thought. Never mind." My face reddened at the unwanted attention I'd garnered. "Dawson, we're going home now." I stated firmly.

"Home?"

"To my home, our home. Our hotel," I fumbled.

Peggy walked him to the door. "Goodbye, I will see you tomorrow." She gave his hand to me.

"Bye Dawson!" Lisa waved, my son waved back, but he looked up at me with huge brown eyes and for a moment, I could feel his fear of being with me without a single woman in sight. Did I have to get a girlfriend so he'd be filled with peace?

Dawson pressed his lips out.

"I guess you won't get a goodbye today," I told them. "We'll be here tomorrow bright and early. See you."

We walked down the hall. I paused at Kit's door and listened. I could hear the TV, but that's all. We continued to the lift.

"Do you want to push the button on the elevator? Push the down arrow." I showed him. He depressed the button, turning it green. The doors dinged and opened and we entered.

"Push the number one. Can you find it?"

Right away, he pushed the correct number. Astounded, I asked, "What's this number?" I pointed to the six.

"Six."

"And this one?"

"Three." Although it sounded like he'd said 'free'.

"You're so smart! Can you say the alphabet?" I began singing the tune and he chimed in. Finding out new things about my son bore a resemblance to opening Christmas presents every day, peeling the layers of paper away and being surprised by what I'd find.

"How high can you count?" I proceeded to listen to him count to twenty, forgetting the numbers twelve and seventeen. I'm sure he'd have recited them all correctly had he been more relaxed.

"Wonderful! I think you earned an ice cream." I told him as I strapped him into his chair.

"Ice cream!" he said, excited that he'd earned a treat.

When I settled behind the wheel of the car, I asked, "What kind do you like? Chocolate, vanilla or strawberry?"

"Strawberry!" I looked in the mirror and saw him fist pump the air. He also kicked the back of my seat. I'd remember next time to put him in the middle or behind the passenger seat.

I drove around looking for a parlor. I caught one ice cream vendor braving the fall air up ahead on the sidewalk. I pulled to the curb, got out, and ordered a cone for Dawson, then I wondered where I should let him eat it. The backseat would become a gloopy, sticky mess if I let him have it in the car.

Screw it. You only live once and the car can be washed. I slipped into the driver's seat and turned, handing it to him.

"Yummy!"

"Yes, yummy. Are you cold?"

Dawson opened his mouth and put the tip of the cone in his mouth. When he pulled off, his lips and the area surrounding them were pink from melted sweet coldness.

"No, just right."

"Good." I turned up the heater just to be safe.

We were almost home when a wave of adoration for Dawson came over me.

"Uh Oh. Daddy, help."

Air filled my lungs and love made my heart full. "What sweetie?" I asked, my voice trembling as tears filled my eyes.

"Look."

"I can't little man. What happened?"

He began to whine so I turned down a side street and parked at the curb.

"What's gotten you upset?" I took off my seatbelt and lifted myself while twisting around to see him. I saw an empty cone in his hand and his small index finger pointing at the floor.

His scoop of ice cream had fallen off. I winced at the melting mess. "It's okay. I'll get a napkin and throw it away."

"More!"

"More? More ice cream?" I asked, he nodded. Crap.

I disposed of the napkin and ice cream in a garbage bin and made a U-turn.

"More?"

"Yes, I'll buy you another, but you have to eat it carefully." I rubbed my temple. What kid eats carefully? "Forget I said that. Eat it like you usually do."

Dawson yawned once we arrived at the hotel. I bathed him and put his pajamas on him with big boy underwear. He did turn away from me when I took his clothes off, but once he sat among bubbles in warm water and a few bath toys, he was in heaven. I didn't wash his hair because I wanted to keep him in a good mood and I needed to stay in his good graces. I'd try to shampoo it another day when I could handle his whining about the water and soap running into his eyes.

I laid him on his bed, propped up with a pillow, and sat next to him. "Did you like Peggy and Lisa?"

"Yup."

"You're going to see them tomorrow while I go to work, okay?"

"Where you work?"

"I take pictures with a camera." I saw his eyes light up. I'd show him my camera another time. Right now, I wanted to get to know him. I asked him questions about his favorite animals, colors, food, and clothing. He answered in one word sentences and drifted off to sleep.

Thinking about cameras, I took mine out and snapped off twenty or so of Dawson sleeping in different positions.
∞∞∞∞∞∞
The following day I poured Dawson dry cereal and minimally helped him get dressed. It took him some time, but he did it. I put on and tied his shoes for him, then his fall coat. I lifted him and took him to the car.

He'd been silent this morning and it had me wondering if he remembered the nightmare he'd had. One point last night I awoke to him whimpering in his sleep. I rubbed his back and kissed his head and he'd quieted down.

We walked the familiar hall and neared Kit's place. The door opened before we were able to pass.

"Hi there." Kit said to me and gazed down. "Hi Dawson."

"You!" Dawson shook my hand free from his and ran. He wrapped his arms around Kit's legs and hugged him.

Kit laughed and adjusted the messenger bag slung over one shoulder.

"My name is Kit, remember?"

"Kit." My son mimicked.

"You're off early." I glanced at his choice of clothing: an unzipped black jacket with a tee shirt beneath it and a pair of jeans.

"I'm off for a fitting and a haircut for a show here in New York."

"Oh? Where?"

"Friday night. Fusion is having a runway show over at Lincoln Center. Not too far from here."

"Can I get in or is this just for certain people?"

"I can invite you, but Dawson can't come."

"Me go!"

Kit laughed. "No, not this time."

Dawson had enough of Kit and came back to me.

"I'll let you run off then. Nice to see you."

"You too. I'm sorry about yesterday."

"Me too." I became saddened at the memory of our fight.

"Ready to see Peggy?' I asked Dawson as we neared her door.

"Yes."

"You be a good boy for her. I'll pick you up later when I'm done with work."

"Pictures?"

"Yes." I grinned and bent down. "Can I have a hug?"

I received a loose hug. At least it was something. I kissed his cheek and rapped on the door. "Love you, sweetie." I left whistling a catchy tune after Peggy took him inside.

Work was work, but Gregg made it fun. I told him I'd inherited a three year old and he asked how.

I explained how my son came to be with me.

"Man, that's awesome, but how are you going to go to the Zion Park with me if you have a kid?"

He had a point. I couldn't go. I couldn't leave my son with Peggy for a whole weekend and I didn't want to be out of his sight for that long either.

"Shit." I muttered and wrung a hand in my hair.

"Do you have a babysitter?"

"Yes, but she's not the type that can do weekends."

"Have you got any friends?"

"Yeah, you."

"Well I'm not going to be able to babysit." He chuckled. "Anybody else? Parents, siblings, aunts, uncles? Any relatives once removed?"

"No... wait." I thought of Kit. "Eh, I don't know. I can ask, but if it's a no, then I can't make it and Ms. Johnson will have to send someone in my place."

"Oh no you don't! You're coming with me, bank on it." Gregg jabbed a finger at me.

"I said I'll see."

"Who do you have in mind? I'll contribute some money for the cause."

"A friend of mine, he's good with kids."

"A male? We better include some booze and easy women if you want to leave your boy with him for a whole weekend. Hell, maybe some wacky tobacco too."

"He wouldn't need to be persuaded that much." I smiled politely. Kit would never get high or drunk around Dawson. "I do have to ask him though. Oh shit!" I shook my head, discouraged. "He won't be around Friday. Dammit." I slammed my fist on my desk, rattling the objects on top of it.

Gregg sighed. "I could ask my wife, but I don't know how you feel about strangers watching him."

"The offer is very kind, but I'd rather not resort to that."

"I understand. Having lost his mom so young, he probably doesn't trust strangers."

"Nope, especially men. His guard is up. He's personable though and he'll come around when he feels comfortable."

"I guess that means no beer after work tonight."

"Not for a while I'm afraid."

"You're no fun." Gregg teased.

I laughed and went back to work.