“You told him you were too old for me?” His ridiculously blue eyes roam my face and trail down. “That’s not true,” he whispers before he rakes his lips with his perfect teeth. “I seem to recall—”
“Don’t go there, I haven’t even had my coffee.” What is it about men that they are so hard-pressed to make you remember the time they had their penis inside your vagina? I assume it’s just another territorial thing, or some fruit of my loins bullshit. But I’m not about to let him have his moment. “Do us both a favor and don’t bring that up again.”
“Fine. Are you going to let me in?” I step back as Troy steps in, he’s got on snug-fitting jeans and a T-shirt, full-on man swagger in his steps.
“I’m going to take a shower.”
“Need any help?”
“Just watch him, please. I need ten minutes of peace.”
“Just let me know if you find any areas hard to reach. Happy to set a good example in helping the elderly.”
“Troy, come back here! You can have my last pancake!”
Troy chuckles again, avoiding my death glare.
“No,” I shout back to Dante. “Those are for you!”
Troy lifts the gift bag in his hand. “Mind if I give him one of his presents early?”
“No,” I sigh, moving toward my bedroom, “go right ahead. One of us needs to do better parenting today.”
“Ahhh, it’s okay, Mommy.” The crack of his hand on my ass fills the room and my blood boils as the fire spreads. Troy’s eyes remain fixed on my burning ass as my jaw unhinges. “Look at that bounce. I would say that’s supple.”
I lean in with a hiss. “Do that again, and I’ll chop off your nuts, blend them up, and serve them at his party.”
He leans in, all two hundred plus pounds of him, and whispers low in my ear. “You look good, Mommy. Trust me.”
“Troy!” Dante summons again.
“I’m coming,” Troy replies, a little exasperated.
I can’t help my smile.
“He’s all yours, neighbor.”
Troy
Clarissa showers as I sit with Dante while he finishes his pancakes. He flips on his TV and begins to change the channel when an old Looney Tunes cartoon comes on.
“Hey, bud, don’t discount Looney Tunes. Those are the best.”
“They’re old.”
“Yes, but they’re classic. Just watch for a few minutes. Trust me.”
“K.” Dante sits back, taking another bite of his pancakes as the screen pans in on a little green frog. I scan my newsfeed replaying last night’s highlights while trying to ignore the fact that Clarissa is naked mere feet away from me. It’s childish, but the woman is a knock-out. And her comments about being too old and not coed enough aren’t jiving well with me. Why were they having that conversation in the first place? Is she curious about me? Does she ever think about that night? Does she think about me in more than a ‘baby daddy’ sense? If so, I hope her ass is still burning from my slap, and her other cheeks are still red from the compliment I meant. She’s fucking fire. One of the hottest women I’ve ever laid eyes on. And she thinks she wouldn’t be enough for me? Given the chance, I’d show her otherwise in a heartbeat.
Loud laughter erupts from Dante, interrupting my reverie. Chuckling at his reaction, I look up from my phone to see his mouth is parted, hysterical spittle running down his chin as he watches the frog come to life, belting out opera. He’s laughing so hard I think he may choke on his pancakes. “Easy there, killer.” I can’t help but laugh with him at the way he’s responding to the cartoon. I quickly Google the character’s name and find it’s Michigan J. Frog, saving it in my arsenal of things my kid loves.
Dante’s still hysterical when Clarissa pops her head in, her hair wet from her shower. The smell of coconut permeates the room. My dick jolts to attention as she joins us on Dante’s small mattress, all curves in tight-fitting jeans and a loose T-shirt. She looks between us, a clear face without a stitch of makeup, and I almost forget myself and push a loose strand of hair from her forehead. “What in the world is going on?”
Dante’s eyes are trained on the frog who remains mute while in the presence of others before bursting into song once he’s alone with his keeper. And then Dante’s laughing again, his whole body shaking as Clarissa looks on, incredulous.
“I’ve never, ever, heard him laugh like this,” she tells me over his shaking frame. He’s hysterical.
“I told him not to count out Looney Tunes. I guess this is his first time seeing them?”
“Guess so,” she says, beaming brightly as our son starts to choke. I pat Dante on the back, and he dodges my touch, so he doesn’t miss any of the cartoon.
“Wow,” I mouth, widening my eyes at Clarissa.
“This is definitely something.”
The frog begins to sing again, and Dante’s laugh echoes out of his bedroom, as tears pour down his face. “Oh, my God, Mommy,” he exclaims, wiping his tears away. “That’s the funniest thing I ever saw.”
“Baby, what in the world?” Clarissa laughs with him in confusion, looking to me for answers. I’m just as clueless as he ignores us both, zeroing in on his new hero.
“You must be Parker.” I stand, clad in a pointy hat that Dante insisted we all wear. I’ve seen her numerous times going in and out of Clarissa’s apartment, but never up close. The woman is strikingly beautiful and full of piss and vinegar as she sizes me up. I can feel my balls shrinking under her withering glare.
“Does Clarissa know you’re answering her door?”
I nod. “She asked me to get it.” I glance back at Clarissa, who’s doing shit to hide her sly smile. “And I have a good idea why.”
“Uh huh. So, you’re Troy.”
“Yeah.” She opens her mouth to spew, what I’m sure, is years’ worth of pent up insults, and I raise my hands, defenseless. “And before you read me the riot act, I just want to thank you, profusely, for all you’ve done for him. I know how much you love him. So,” I whisper low, “before you declare me nothing but a piece of shit sperm donor and unworthy father, just know that I’ve wanted for a long time to meet the other Dad in his life and I’m all ears for any tips you want to give me.”
My rehearsed door speech goes over well, and I can see her eyes soften ever so slightly.
“How did you know about me?”
Confused, I look back to Clarissa who darts her eyes away before opening a box a candles for the cake.
“I’ve seen you around.”
Parker guffaws. “Funny, I can only recall seeing you once when—”
“Auntie Parker!” Dante yells before he comes running into her arms. She scoops him up, the smile on her face genuine.
“Hey, Duckie, Happy Birthday.”
“Thank you,” he squeaks as she keeps him close while he struggles to get out of her arms.
“Just five more seconds,” she snuggles him as he wiggles in an attempt to escape. She sighs, letting him go entirely.
“I got so many presents on the table,” Dante exclaims proudly. “But Mommy didn’t get my boats and hoes cake like I wanted.”
“Because it’s highly inappropriate,” Clarissa chimes from the table. “And you are not to watch that movie ever again.”
“I agree,” Parker says, taking her ball-melting gaze from me and giving Dante her undivided attention. “So, with all those presents, I guess you don’t need what I have in the trunk.”
“No, I do! I do, I swear!”
“Okay then.” Lifting her keys, she clicks the fob for her SUV, and the trunk opens. I stand back stupefied before damn near gasping like a girl at the number of wrapped packages, feeling my balls shrink to the size of raisins.
“Parker!” Clarissa scolds, walking past me as Dante hauls ass down the porch, his eyes wide.
“It’s not much,” Parker says guiltily.
Clarissa openly gapes at the truck along with me.
“Okay,” Parker says, looking between the two of us, �
�confession, I may have taken an Ambien, and accidentally one-clicked everything on his wish list. I might have also gotten everything on mine,” she brings her tone down so only we can hear, “which included six lifelike vibrators and two Womanizers,” she elbows Clarissa, “and I brought one for you. I swear to God, it’s the best thing ever invented.”
Dante is practically screaming as he unpacks the SUV, and I feel my enthusiasm take a nose-dive. It took me weeks to save up for the present waiting on the table. Clarissa shakes her head and pulls Parker into a hug. “I can’t even be mad,” she nods toward Dante, who is unknowingly dropping gifts on the lawn behind him as he brings an armful up the steps, his face lit up like Christmas. “Come in, babe.”
As they hug, Parker bats her lashes my way, and I narrow my eyes and mouth, ‘game on.’ She mouths back, ‘bring it.’
It’s not much of a party. Just the four of us, but I can’t help but be thankful to finally be a part of this day. When I asked Dante why he didn’t invite his friends, he shied away from the question. It’s something I’m determined to get to the bottom of, but today I don’t want him feeling anything but elated, which he is the moment he opens my gift. It’s exactly the reaction I hoped for.
“Troy! You got me a drone?”
“I did. Happy Birthday.”
Though Dante had sent me dozens of amazon links, all of the gifts were less than thirty dollars. I know that conditioning. I’d done the same thing with my own mom, never asking for more than she could afford so as to not make her feel bad. That’s the thing about being raised by a single parent, you tend to look at them like it’s your job to take care of them as much as they do you. I’m proud of my son for being so considerate and want to reward him for it.
Both Clarissa and Parker look at me with suspicion and awe.
“Can I go play with it, Mommy, please?”
“Sure,” Clarissa says, swallowing when she sees the bulk of the presents left.
Dante rushes out of the house with his gift in hand, leaving us all in the dust.
“Don’t you need me to set it up for you?” I call after him, terrified to be left in the lions’ den with the females.
“He’s got it,” Clarissa says confidently, pulling the dirty cake plates from the table. It’s then I know I’m in deep shit, when I’m left with Parker with no little ears around.
“So, Troy,” she turns to me, licking some icing off her finger, “let me get this straight, you impregnate her and leave her to raise your super sperm for six years without you. Why now?”
“Parker,” Clarissa says in a tone I can’t decipher. She’s hiding something, and I know exactly what that something is. The fact that I’ve tried long and hard before now to be a part of his life. “Let’s not brawl on his birthday. Now isn’t the time.”
“That’s what we’re talking about, timing. I think now is as good of a time as any. Don’t you, Troy?”
Clarissa glances over at me, worrying her lips.
“I had a lot of growing up to do.” It’s the truth, and even though it pisses me off that Clarissa hasn’t bothered to come to my defense nor state the facts, I still spare her. “I’m here now, and I’m hoping that counts.”
“Six years?” Parker asks, unwilling to give me a break. I get it though, I would be just as cautious.
“I didn’t want to cause her any more trouble than I had.”
Also the truth, a muted version of it.
“Bullshit.”
I sigh. “Look, I can’t change what I did or how absent I’ve been. All I’m asking for is a chance. And whether you think so or not, I have both their best interests at heart. I don’t want to take your place, just invent my own.”
“How poetic.”
I run a hand along my jaw and face Parker head-on. “I care about them both, very much,” I meet Clarissa’s eyes, and she darts hers away, so I bring my attention back to Parker. “I want to be the best father possible, and I know how much you matter to them both, so I need you to sign off on this.”
Parker glances back at Clarissa, who slowly nods, but she doesn’t let up.
“It’s not like you asked us first. I’m just supposed to trust you?”
“It’s all you can do until I prove myself.”
Parker is very much an integrated part of this family, and I need her approval, nearly as much as I need Clarissa’s. Sweat gathers at my temples as I sit in wait for a good minute for her verdict.
“If you don’t make good with them, I’ll have you know, I know people, internationally. I can make you disappear.”
I cup my jaw to hide my smile. “And what is it you do exactly?”
“That’s for me to know.”
“She’s a consultant,” Clarissa giggles uncontrollably from where she stands at the sink.
“That’s right,” Parker snaps my attention back to her, slowly running a finger in a slit your throat way across her neck. “I advise clients all over the globe.”
“Impressive.”
“I’ve got your number, Troy,” Parker hisses.
“Everyone does. It’s twelve. Are we done with the death threats? Because if so, I’d like to spend a little time with my son before I do the yard.”
Parker turns to Clarissa. “He’s doing your yard too?”
Clarissa nods, unable to keep her smile to herself. It’s beautiful, and I can’t help staring at her a little longer because of it. She’s a vixen without knowing it and has a ‘come hither’ air about her. My hand is still burning from that slap I gave her this morning and itching for another go around. I knew I must have momentarily lost my damn mind touching her that way, but I couldn’t help it. She thinks I’m into supple coeds, but my attraction to her has grown exponentially over the years, and she’s the definition of just my fucking type. I love her fiery amber locks, her straight nose, and the shape of her lips. I love that our son’s birth widened her hips giving her more contrast and curve. Her thighs are thick, and her ass is fucking heart-shaped perfection. Parker’s interrogation rips me from the few seconds of appreciation I’m finally able to give without Clarissa noticing. But the pitfall is that Parker notices and I have a feeling that’s not a good thing.
“So, let me get this straight,” Parker says. “You’re back. You’re doing the yard, helping to pay the bills, and practically a live-in babysitter so she can go out on dates with her college crush?”
“He’s your college crush?” I ask Clarissa, who rolls her eyes, ignoring my question.
Parker is all too happy to fill me in. “Oh, yeah, she was googly-eyed for him for years. He’s a real estate mogul.”
Clarissa pipes up, shaking her head. “Uh, I wouldn’t go that far.”
“He’s got a ten-inch cock, endless bank account, and practices Ju Ju Jetsu or some shit, which means he’s lethal.”
“He had a green belt in Karate when he was ten,” Clarissa snorts, “and I haven’t seen his cock.” Her bright blue eyes dart to mine at her confession, and she backtracks when she sees my smirk. “Not yet. I haven’t seen it yet.”
They haven’t been intimate? She’s been dating him at least a month. This pleases me, though it shouldn’t. I know it shouldn’t. I need to stop obsessing, but I can’t help my slight satisfaction with all that’s been revealed today. Maybe, just maybe, there’s a chance I could be more than her baby daddy. It’s not much, but it’s better than no chance in hell.
“Oh, he’s packing,” Parker assures. “Marion told me so.”
Clarissa drops the dish in her hands, and it clanks loudly in the sink. “Marion slept with him?”
Parker’s enthusiasm plummets as she turns to Clarissa, “Oh, crap, babe, she didn’t tell you? Yeah, they dated for like ten minutes.”
Clarissa looks at her pensively. “Do you know why they broke up?”
Parker turns back to me, ever the menace. “Probably because she couldn’t handle all that sausage, she’s a vegetarian.”
“So, you think I have some gaping vagina?
”
“And that’s my cue to leave,” I chuckle and stand. “This has been ridiculous. Parker, nice meeting you.”
“Pleasure is all yours.” Parker turns back to Clarissa. “No, love, you don’t have an overstuffed taco. I’ve seen your puss, it’s pretty.”
“I second that,” I say before two sets of eyes laser my head off.
I make my exit, chuckling as Clarissa hisses at Parker behind me, “Did you have to go that far?”
“I got a little carried away.”
I shut the door and join Dante in the yard, just as the drone sets sail.
Michelle’s Hash Brown Casserole
Dude Ranch Housekeeper, Florida
Makes 8 servings
1 hour and 30 minutes
2 Lb. Bag Tater Tots or Hash Browns – Defrosted and Crumbled
1 Pint Sour Cream
1 Chopped Onion
1 Can Cream of Mushroom Soup
2 Cups Shredded Cheese
2 Tsp. Salt
1 Cup Melted Butter
Topping:
2 Cups Crushed Corn Flakes
1 Stick Melted Butter
Mix all ingredients together. Pour into 9 X 13 baking dish. Place topping on mixture.
Bake at 350 degrees for 1 hour.
Clarissa
“What are you doing?” I ask Parker as she stands rapt at the window.
“Just enjoying the weather.”
Dante opened the last of his presents half an hour ago and has locked himself in his room to make a video, while Parker and I soak up a little adult time with a newly uncorked bottle of Pinot.
“You’ve been standing there for ten minutes,” I say, wiping my hand on a towel before shining the sink. I don’t remember much of my mother, but do remember the way she took pride in her cleaning, always shining the faucet after she was done with the dishes. One of the few memories I have is the two of us elbow deep in suds while singing together. My mother loved soul, the classics, that much I do remember. It’s what brought her and my dad together.
The Underdogs: The Complete Series Page 34
