Demanding All Of You

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Demanding All Of You Page 8

by Ali Parker


  We seated ourselves, the restaurant being very informal. Oliver had a cute little grin on his face. “Dad says I can have a cheeseburger,” he announced.

  “Really?” I smiled. “I think I might get a cheeseburger too. I like mine loaded.”

  “Loaded?” he questioned, his nose wrinkled.

  I nodded. “With all the fixin’s. Lettuce, tomato, onions, pickles, and whatever else they can fit between the two buns.”

  He grimaced. “I don’t like onions or pickles.”

  Damion laughed. “No, he doesn’t. That was a hard lesson to learn. He let me know how much he didn’t like them on his burger by puking all over my backseat.”

  My mouth fell open. “Oh wow! I guess it’s a serious dislike.”

  “Yes. Some people will say to make him eat what he’s given, but those people haven’t had to clean puke.”

  I laughed. It was hard to imagine a guy as smooth as Damion cleaning up puke. It was yet another piece of the puzzle that was Damion. “I think some people need to mind their business about how other people raise their children. Kids need to be kids. I feel like we have gotten away from that. I’m sure your grandpa let you roam, eat dirt, and even skin your knees.”

  I wasn’t necessarily meaning to judge his parenting, but the moment I said the words, I realized I had. It was exactly the thing that had caused the argument that morning. I had butted into his business. “Sorry,” I grimaced. “That was not meant to come off sounding judge-y. I guess I completely contradicted myself.”

  He chuckled. “It’s fine. I know what you mean. I think you’re right—mostly. I don’t think I’ll be letting Oliver eat dirt, but I do think coddling him isn’t doing him any favors. It’s very difficult to let go of that protective bubble I’ve put around him. As a parent, I don’t ever want him to feel pain.”

  I nodded, still feeling like a complete asshole. “I get it. I do. I promise, I will not let him get hurt when I’m out there with him.”

  “It’s not a promise you can make,” he said. “None of us can. We do our best, but things happen. Oliver and I talked. He knows the dangers and I trust him to stay close and not run off. Right, Oliver?”

  Oliver nodded. “I can’t touch the horses or go in their stalls. And I have to always tell Daddy where I’m going.”

  I had to fight back a laugh. Clearly, there had been a very thorough conversation after the incident that morning. “Good boy. Listen to your daddy. He wants to keep you safe. A farm can be very fun, but it can be dangerous for kids that don’t listen.”

  Damion smiled before giving me a quick wink. “Thanks.”

  “Anytime.”

  “I’m going to a new school,” Oliver announced. “Miss June will be my teacher.”

  “A new school!” I exclaimed. “That’s exciting! When do you start?”

  Oliver looked at his dad for the answer.

  “Monday,” Damion replied.

  “Wow. That is going to be a lot of fun. I went to that school too.”

  “You did?” Oliver asked with surprise. “My dad did too.”

  She grinned. “I didn’t go to that school until after your dad had already graduated. I loved it, though. It was my favorite school. I went to several schools.”

  “I went to a different school before, but I didn’t like it very much,” he said, his voice losing that enthusiasm I had heard earlier.

  “How come?” I gently asked.

  He let out a big sigh. “I didn’t have any friends. It was really loud.”

  I slowly nodded. “I bet there were a lot of kids in your old school.”

  “Yes.”

  I looked at Damion and could see the emotion in his eyes. He rubbed his son’s head. “This school is going to be much better. Only a few kids and he’s already making friends after our visit.”

  I couldn’t imagine what a big-city school would be like. It had to be overwhelming for a kid. I had been to a few bigger schools, but none could compare. I felt bad for the kid. We ordered our burgers and fries, and when they were delivered, Oliver very carefully peeked under the bun to make sure there were no onions or pickles lurking under the lettuce.

  “How long have you been away from home?” I asked Damion.

  He wiped his mouth before answering. “About thirteen years. I left the summer I graduated.”

  I quickly did the math and pegged him to be thirty, maybe thirty-one. “College, or did you just leave to leave?”

  He laughed. “Maybe a little of both. I was born and raised here. Any vacations we took were to local towns. The farm never allowed my grandfather the chance to really get away for a week. The day I graduated, I felt like I sprouted wings. I couldn’t wait to spread them.”

  “Did you immediately go to New York?” I pressed, realizing I was essentially interviewing him. I told myself it was all part of me assuring he was ready for the farm.

  “I did. I went to NYU. Took a while but landed the job at the magazine and that’s where I’ve been.”

  I had to laugh. “So, you flew one coop only to find yourself locked in another?”

  He grinned. “I suppose that’s accurate, although my coop in New York was a little bigger and a little more eventful. I was young. I needed excitement. I craved the big city lights and action I had only ever seen on TV.”

  “Was it all it was cracked up to be?”

  He shrugged. “When I was younger, it was. I loved the city. There was always something to do, somewhere to go. I loved meeting new people. People who didn’t know me or my story and I didn’t know them. There was a certain freedom to being a no one without a story.”

  That made sense to me. I supposed we were alike in that way. Neither of us wanted to be known for our pasts. I had run away from my past as much as I could without leaving the area. “I get it.”

  “Did you know my grandpa—I mean great-grandpa?” Oliver asked.

  I smiled. “I did. Only for a short time.”

  “Did you like him?”

  I smiled, feeling a little tug at my heart with the mere memory of Oliver. “I did. I liked him very much.”

  “Did you ride horses with him?” he asked, his little face so sweet and innocent.

  I shook my head. “No. I didn’t get to do that. I only got to know Oliver for a short time.” I turned to look at Damion. “Did he spend much time with him?” I asked, hoping he understood what I was saying.

  He cringed. “Not enough. I never made it out here and he hated the city. They talked on the phone and met a couple of times, but that was it.”

  That made me sad. “Too bad.”

  “Yes, it is. I wish I would have known. I could have made a better effort.”

  I shrugged. “I think that’s part of life. You don’t get to know. You have to just assume it isn’t always going to be there.”

  “Lesson learned,” he mumbled.

  “Do you ride horses?” Oliver asked. The kid was fascinated by the horses. I liked that and hoped I could show him a thing or two before I moved on.

  “I do. Have you ever ridden a horse?”

  His eyes bulged. “No! They’re too big.”

  I laughed. “They have to be big to carry people. Your great grandfather has another mare that is very sweet and gentle. Maybe we can work with her and see how you do, if your dad says it’s okay.”

  Oliver looked up at Damion. “Can I?”

  Damion winced. “Let’s work up to that. You have a lot to learn about horses first.”

  “What about Fiona?” Oliver asked. “Can I ride her?”

  I shook my head. “No. Fiona is an old girl who has an owie leg.”

  “Oh no,” he gasped. “Is she okay?”

  I smiled. “She’s fine, but she’s not meant for riding.”

  “Oh.”

  We ate our burgers, talking a little about their time in New York. Damion wasn’t exactly an open book. I had a lot of questions for him but held back from asking. I didn’t want my interrogation to feel like an interrogatio
n. He would likely get defensive and clam up altogether. Or fire me.

  “We should be getting back,” Damion said after they had finished the big piece of apple pie they shared for dessert.

  “I’ll be over in the morning,” I told him. “If you’d like, I can show Oliver around the paddock and stuff.”

  “I’d like that. I guess I need to get familiar with the pasture as well. A lot is coming back, but there’s a lot I have forgotten.”

  “I understand. I’m happy to show you the ropes. Things are in pretty good shape right now, but it takes daily work.”

  He smiled. “That’s something I do remember. Daily work and early mornings.”

  “You could sleep in, but working in the summer heat is no picnic,” I teased.

  “I’ll get used to the early mornings,” he said. “I don’t know about before sunrise, but early.”

  I felt my cheeks stain red. It had been a subtle nod to my tractor incident. “Sorry about that,” I muttered.

  “It’s okay. We needed to be up early.”

  “I’ll be there in the morning, but I’ll make it after sunrise,” I said with a laugh.

  “Thanks.” He chuckled. “Give us city boys a chance to adjust.”

  We walked out of the restaurant.

  Oliver waved from the backseat, a big smile on his face. I was actually looking forward to seeing them both tomorrow. Oliver was eager to learn, and Damion certainly seemed to be mellowing out a bit.

  I was feeling more confident by the minute that Oliver Senior had made the right choice in leaving the farm to his grandson.

  Chapter 13

  Damion

  I woke early, anxious for the day. I liked that Alex and I had been able to talk and iron out some of the wrinkles in the very brief relationship we had. She wasn’t quite the horrible person I first believed her to be. She was tough and I could tell she was no-nonsense, but I saw the softer side as well when she had talked with Oliver. I liked that side of her and was going to do everything I could to stay on her good side. I needed her help. I was way out of my league with the farm. I couldn’t walk in one day after thirteen years and expect to know what the hell I was doing.

  Alex was an invaluable resource and I planned on learning everything I could from her. I needed to learn everything all over again. It wasn’t enough to simply know how to take care of the horses and fix the fences. I would be stepping into my grandpa’s shoes. I didn’t realize it back when I was a kid, but I now knew he was doing a lot more work than it had appeared.

  I had been surly and pissed a lot, thinking I was carrying all the weight of the farm. I had no idea how much more went into the actual running of it. I was him now, and that meant I needed to make the right calls about when to plant, when to harvest, and when to pray for rain. It was a lot of stress.

  I had time to worry about the weather later. I dumped the bag of frozen hash browns into the hot frying pan. The sizzling of the cold versus the hot was a sound that took me back to the mornings when my grandfather would make us breakfast. I smiled at the memory of the big man cooking me breakfast at the stove. He’d be in full-field attire with his boots, scarf tied around his neck, and his usual plaid flannel.

  Once the eggs were done, I turned off the burner and went to wake up Oliver. He was already awake when I walked in but still lying in bed. “Good morning, buddy.”

  “Hi, Dad,” he said, followed by a big yawn. “Is it morning time?”

  I laughed. “It sure is. I’ve got breakfast ready. A farmer needs a good breakfast before he goes out to the fields.”

  He nodded as if I had just given him some secret knowledge. “Okay.”

  “I’ll get your plate ready. I put out your old jeans and a shirt. We’re probably going to get dirty today and I don’t want you ruining your school clothes.”

  I left the room, chuckling to myself. I still didn’t quite believe I was a multimillionaire. I wasn’t about to start spending money like it was going out of style. I didn’t want the money to change me or Oliver. It hadn’t changed my grandfather. Technically, I didn’t have the money. I was on a six-month probationary period. I wasn’t worried about not making it. I wasn’t going anywhere. The money didn’t matter. I was at the farm to stay.

  I dished up Oliver’s plate, cut the pancake into small pieces for him, and put it on the table.

  “I’m ready,” he announced coming into the kitchen. His hair was sticking up a little, giving him a very precocious look.

  “Have a seat and dig in,” I told him. I sat down, shoveling a fork full of hash browns and eggs into my mouth. “Are you excited for your first day of school?”

  He bobbed his head up and down. “Yep. Are you going to work?”

  His quizzical expression made me laugh. He had a very expressive face. There was no hiding what he was thinking. His little brow furrowed, and he looked very serious.

  “No, I’m not going to work. The farm is my work now. I will take you to school in the morning and pick you up in the afternoon.”

  “Will I go to daycare?”

  “Nope.”

  “Will I have a new nanny?” he asked, seemingly worried all of a sudden.

  “No. It will be me. I will be taking care of you.”

  He took another bite. “All the time?”

  “Yes. We moved to the farm so I could spend more time with you. I’m going to be a fulltime dad.”

  That seemed to get through. His face lit up. “Okay!”

  I hated that he was used to being with someone other than me. I was going to work hard to make up for lost time. I noticed he wasn’t eating much. “Aren’t you hungry?” I asked him.

  He shrugged. “Alex is coming.”

  “Yes, she’ll be here any minute, which is why you need to finish up.”

  “Alex needs breakfast,” he answered.

  “She probably ate her breakfast at her house,” I insisted.

  He pushed his plate away from him. “Just in case, I’ll save her some.”

  He was a good kid. I had gotten lucky with him. “I have extras warming in the oven. If Alex would like—”

  I didn’t get to finish my sentence. The sound of Alex’s truck coming down the driveway had Oliver up and out of his seat. I got up, following him out onto the porch. He waited on the porch until her truck was off and she was getting out of it. That was one of the lessons we had talked about. No running into the parking area while there were vehicles moving. I was glad he seemed to remember.

  “Alex!” he shouted, running toward her.

  She stopped and turned around, a bright smile on her face. “Hi, Oliver.”

  “I saved you some breakfast,” he announced.

  I stood on the porch, letting him do the talking. It was his idea. She looked up at me. “Breakfast?”

  I nodded, pointing at Oliver. “He’d like to know if you would like to eat breakfast.”

  “I would love some breakfast!” she exclaimed.

  Oliver looked back at me, a told-you-so look on his face. He grabbed her hand and led her up to the porch. “Better get her a plate, Dad.”

  I nodded. “Absolutely.”

  Oliver ushered her into the dining room, telling her where to sit. He poured her a glass of orange juice and delivered it to her while I dished up a plate with the leftovers in the oven. He was waiting on her like she was an honored guest. I was very proud of his manners.

  “Now, I can eat,” Oliver announced, taking his seat and pulling his plate back toward him.

  “Thank you for inviting me to breakfast,” Alex said to Oliver.

  “You’re welcome,” Oliver answered. “Dad says we have to eat breakfast before working on the farm.”

  She nodded. “He’s right. I always eat breakfast before I go to work.”

  I realized what she was saying, but Oliver didn’t. She had already eaten. “Thank you,” I said in a low voice.

  She shrugged. “I can always eat hash browns.”

  “Are we going to ride ho
rses today?” Oliver asked.

  Alex smiled, slowly shaking her head. “I don’t think so. It’s up to your dad, but there are other things that need to be done today.”

  “My dad doesn’t have to go to work anymore,” Oliver announced, quickly moving past the horse situation. It was how his mind worked. I imagined it was how a lot of little kids’ minds worked. Their little brains moved as fast as their little bodies. Always on the hunt for input.

  “Your dad doesn’t work?” Alex asked.

  “Nope. He’s going to take care of me.”

  Alex laughed. “I bet that is a job. What about the farm? Taking care of the farm is a job.”

  Oliver took another bite of eggs before washing it down with juice. “We live here. That’s not a job.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. He had some sound reasoning. “I’ve been a single parent since, well, forever. I worked a lot back in New York. This is a big change for him.”

  “I think it’s great,” Alex said. “A fulltime dad makes you a very lucky little man.”

  Oliver nodded his head. “Yep.”

  “I just hope I can be both,” I told her.

  “I think you’ll be okay. Your grandfather did it.”

  I scoffed. “I’m not the man he was. I wish, but he was next level.”

  “It is going to be an adjustment, but with the right help, you’ll be fine. The farm is in good shape. There are no major issues. Your main worries will be about keeping the water flowing, keeping the pests at bay, and keeping the horses healthy.”

  “What did he do with the chickens?” I asked her.

  She shrugged. “He didn’t have them when I showed up. The coop and henhouse are in good shape, though, if you think you can handle the extra work.”

  I laughed. “I may be out of practice, but chickens were about the easiest thing to take care of. I think I’d like to get some. It will be good for Oliver.”

  “Chickens?” Oliver chimed in. “Will they lay eggs?”

 

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