I shake my head.
"He told me he didn't know why he had to pay anything when I make so much money. Can you believe that? Like he shouldn't be half responsible for his son's living expenses. It's not like I tricked him into having a baby. He was all gung ho about it, until Caleb was born and he realized it meant he had to grow up, stop being a man child and start actually being a father..."
"Brynn. It's okay."
Larson's gentle pressure on my hand causes me to realize that I've been getting even more worked up than I’d thought.
"Actually, I can believe it,” he continues. “From everything you've told me about Steven, and even from seeing his weasly little face, I can certainly believe he's still a man child who will try to do anything and everything to get out of his responsibilities."
I look up at him, still sad but unable to stop a smile from appearing.
"Weasly little face," I giggle. "Yeah, he does have one of those."
"You didn't agree to anything, did you?" Larson asks.
"No, I just told him I'd think about it, and that he should make an appointment to see me next time, instead of just dropping in like that. That's rude."
"I like when he drops in like that," Larson says. "Because then he gets to see the big muscly man you're with, who won't put up with his shit."
I laugh, so glad that Larson is here to cheer me up. And protect me. It's been a long time since I've felt like this. In fact, I don't know that I ever have. And I never thought that I would. Now that he's here, I want to savor every second. Except I still can’t wipe the meeting with Steven out of my mind.
"The really shitty thing is that he’s trying to see Caleb more just to reduce his child support obligations," I tell Larson. "The calculation is based on time spent with each parent, so now he suddenly wants to see him more often. Which could be fine— even good, for Caleb— but he only wants the timesharing to look a certain way on paper for the courts because of the money and I doubt he’ll actually follow through. He doesn’t even bother to call Caleb on his birthday. But he is so intent on lowering his child support even if it means at least pretending to agree to see him every now and then. Worse, he even mentioned the threat of going for primary custody if I don’t give him the kind of deal that he wants."
I put my head in my hands, not knowing how I got myself into this nightmare.
"Look, Brynn."
Larson puts one hand on my arms and raises my chin with his other hand, so that I’m looking straight into his handsome and strong yet caring eyes.
"That is not going to happen," he says. "Don’t even worry about that. You have been the only parent that Caleb knows, and no court would make him change primary residences."
"But I work so much," I protest, laying out all my fears while we’re discussing everything. "He can try to say I’m not even there much. Esmeralda is the one who takes him to school, packs his lunches… hell, she packs my lunches."
"It doesn’t matter," Larson says, holding both of my arms now and shaking his head empathically. "You’re his mother. You love him. You tuck him into bed most nights, wake up with him most mornings and I’m sure you’ve done a ton of other things for him since he’s been born."
"That’s true," I admit, starting to feel better about things now, if only in a bittersweet kind of way. I remember all the days and nights spent changing Caleb’s diapers, giving him baths, nursing him in the early days and rocking him to sleep, which I sometimes still do to this day.
"I know in my head that just because I work a lot doesn’t mean I’m a bad mom," I tell Larson. "Men do it all the time and are still good dads. A lot of women too. But I think I just let Steven get to my head."
"Well get him out of there," Larson commands. "I’m the only man who’s supposed to be up in any part of you now."
I can’t help but blush and laugh at the same time.
"Is that so?" I ask him, loving the sound of it.
"It is."
He winks at me and I remember how he looked at me earlier when he was licking my pussy. He looked just like this: like he owns me, like I’m his. And like I should love it, which I absolutely do.
"Well, thank you for cheering me up," I tell him.
"No problem. So, what do we have planned for this weekend?" he asks me, and I’m glad we’re on to better topics of conversation. I’m sick of talking about Steven.
"I managed to get some time off of work," I tell him. "So thankfully I'll have the whole weekend to spend with you and Caleb. I hope you're ready to freeze your ass off, because I was thinking we could go to Central Park. I know it's pretty much winter here, but no trip to New York City could be complete without it, especially when one is..."
I trail off. Oops.
"When one is what?" he asks, and I just shrug.
I almost said "in love." I can't believe I just almost said that.
"When one is missing green chile and other comforts of New Mexico," I quickly tell him. "One will definitely appreciate all that New York has to offer— and forget and forgive any of its possible shortcomings— when one is in Central Park."
"Hand in hand with a lovely lady, I presume," Larson says, winking at me.
"Oh of course."
"Well, I'm warm enough in this Harley jacket," he says, pointing at the leather coat on his chest. "It's never failed me before. And I'm looking forward to exploring what New York has to offer a Westerner such as myself."
I smile as he finishes the rest of his skillet breakfast.
"I'm also looking forward to seeing Caleb," he says. "I've missed the little guy."
"He's missed you too," I tell him. And then I decide to actually say what I'm thinking this time. "And so have I."
He picks my hand up and kisses it, and says, "I've missed you too, Brynn."
And suddenly I know that everything is going to be all right, even though just a minute ago I was stressing out about Steven. As long as Larson is here with me, things will be fine.
As he signals the waitress to bring our check, I realize with a heart-sinking thud that he's not always going to be here. He's only going to be with me for the weekend, and what am I ever going to do without him?
We head out so that I can put in a little more work before calling it quits for the weekend— Larson says he'd like to walk around and see the sights while I finish up— and I tell myself not to think about what will happen once he's gone. I have all weekend to focus on my two favorite people in the world: my son, who has always been my little hero and Larson, who is my new big hero.
Chapter 21 – Larson
Brynn was right: Central Park is a magical place. It’s large and beautiful and so fucking green, even during this time of year, compared to New Mexico. I think it’d be impossible for anyone to feel anything but fucking hope and happiness here. But maybe that’s because I’m here with Brynn and Caleb.
Caleb was so happy to see me that he’d done a “jump turn” and yelled “woo hoo!”
“That’s his latest trick,” Brynn had told me, but I still prefer to think it was something he’d invented just for me.
"Hey Lar-son," Caleb says now, in his lilting little toddler voice. "Help feed quack quacks?"
"What's that, buddy?"
He reaches up a tiny hand to hold my own. A familiar feeling tugs at me— sadness, pain— but I will it not to come bubbling up to the surface. I don't want anything to fucking ruin this day. This weekend.
"Quack quacks," he responds.
"He wants to know if you want to help him feed the ducks," Brynn translates.
"Oh, yes of course," I say. "There are ducks in this park?"
"Yep, there's a duck pond. But then, there's a whole zoo too."
"A zoo," I whistle.
I look around at the colorful leaves and long stretches of grass— so different from the dry, arid landscape I'm used to— and I have to admit that it's fucking beautiful.
"And a garden, a wildlife sanctuary, natural woods, a running track, an amphitheater
, a nature center and two ice skating rinks, one of which turns into a swimming pool during the summer months," she says, sounding like a tour guide.
"Yep. Sure seems like magic," I tell her.
"Matchick!" Caleb repeats.
"He really likes to parrot everything I say, huh?" I ask Brynn.
"He sure does, so watch your language," she says.
"Capola!" Caleb says, and we both laugh.
"He mimics what we do, too," she says, "so be careful."
"You mean I can't do this?"
I pinch her sexy ass, since Caleb can't see. He's trying to run up ahead of us but I'm holding him back by his hand.
"Very funny," she says. "Save that for later."
"Oh, I definitely will."
"Quack quacks!" Caleb announces, as we arrive at the duck pond.
Brynn, always prepared, pulls out a Ziploc bag of bread from her large purse.
"Well, aren't you the good little mommy," I tell her, impressed.
As Caleb feeds the bread to the ducks, and I "help" him by breaking off pieces and handing them to him, because he says "Just me! I do!" when I try to feed the ducks too, I reflect on everything that's happened between Brynn and me during such a short amount of time. I can't believe she's an ambitious lawyer, a loving mom and great in the sack too.
I really scored big when I found her. Now I just hope I can keep her.
I've been trying to figure out a way to turn this into something more than a fling, but I can't wrap my mind around how. I would never fit in with big city life, and her job is here. So for now, I try to remind myself to just enjoy the moment.
"All done!" Caleb says, brushing the bread crumbs off his hands as the ducks— true to the name he calls them— quack quack at his feet, fighting over the crumbs and wanting more. "Now horsie!"
"He wants to go on a horse and carriage ride to the carousel," Brynn says. "So that's like two horse- related things. He loves horses."
"Then he'll certainly grow up to like motorcycles like I do,” I tell her.
"Mo-to-cycle," Caleb says with a big grin, taking my hand again.
"Apparently he already does," Brynn laughs.
I think it's a perfect day, but I know it's going to get even better tonight. And as much as I love hanging out with little Caleb, I can barely fucking wait to be with Brynn again one on one.
Chapter 22 – Larson
I carry a sleeping Caleb into Brynn's townhouse in Brooklyn, which I’ve learned just today is called a brownstone.
"What a tired boy," she says. "He's had a long day."
"I hope he had as much fun as I did," I tell her, pausing when we enter the nicely decorated house. Once I cross the threshold, I realize I have no idea what to do next. "Where to?"
"I'm sure he did," she says. "He hasn't had that much fun in..."
She pauses, and I'm certain she is feeling uncomfortable, having just bemoaned the fact that Caleb doesn't have much of a father.
"...ever?" I ask her, to ease the tension.
"Now don't go getting too big of a head," she says. "I'm sure he's had that much fun with just Mommy at some point."
We laugh, quietly, so as not to wake up Caleb, and I'm glad the awkward moment is gone. I don't want anything to come in between all the things I want to do to Brynn as soon as I put Caleb to bed.
She must be thinking the same thing, because she says, "Oh, yeah. You asked where he goes. His room is right upstairs and to the right. Don't worry about putting PJs on him. He'll fight it off when he's this tired, so better to just let him sleep. Thanks for taking him up. I'll make us a nightcap?"
"I love when you sound so old- fashioned," I tell her.
"Whiskey, right?" she asks me.
"You know it."
I take Caleb up to his room, which is decorated like a scene from the set of the Disney movie "Cars." As I lay him in his toddler bed—which is in the shape of a red car— he briefly opens his eyes, staring at the big poster of one of the Cars characters that's stretched across his ceiling.
"Lightening McQueen," he announces sleepily.
His speech is clearer when he says the Cars' name, as proof that it's one of his favorite things to watch as well as say.
"I love Lightening McQueen," he quietly announces into the darkness.
I chuckle softly. "Good night, little man."
Then he smiles at me, as if in a dream.
"Mo-to-cycle man. I love mo-to-cycle man."
My heart melts, while it also nearly breaks. My chuckle wants to turn into a sob, but I refuse to let it.
I can't let him see me cry. I certainly can't let Brynn see me cry. Despite what I've been through, they need me to be strong. And I won't be able to stick around if I become a sniveling mess, destined to hide in a hovel all the time like the hermit I'd let myself become after everything that had happened to me before I'd met Brynn and Caleb.
Since I met them, everything has been better. I have to stay convinced that everything will keep getting better. It has to, because it can't get any worse. And I have to be strong for this cute little boy and his beautiful mother who is making me a drink downstairs and waiting for me to come have adult time now that her child is safely in bed.
Chapter 23 – Brynn
I watch Larson walk into the kitchen after carrying my son upstairs, and I think I must be in some kind of a dream. If so, it’s the best dream ever and I never want to wake up from it.
"Here you go," I tell Larson, passing him his drink. "It's a Hot Toddy."
"Very nice," he says, clinking his glass against mine. "Very Winter in New York-ish."
"I think that's the theme of our weekend together."
We both laugh. "I had a lot of fun at the park, and I think Caleb did too," I tell him.
"Good. It sure looked like it. He loves those quack quacks and the horsies too."
"I can't believe the day started out so crappy and then changed so quickly," I muse. "Earlier this afternoon I was having to meet with Steven, who got me so upset, but then..."
I trail off, feeling silly again and not knowing what to say.
"Then I made you feel better," Larson says, crossing the kitchen and taking me into his arms. "And I know exactly how to make you feel even better."
I'm wearing jeans, but he expertly unbuttons them and lets them fall to the floor. Then he hoists me up onto my kitchen table and takes off his own jeans while removing a condom from his pocket.
"Larson..." I whisper, nodding towards the upstairs nursery where Caleb is sleeping. "I don't want him to..."
"Is he a light sleeper?" Larson asks back, also in a whisper, as he plays with my nipples.
I can barely resist now, and I lean back to let him play with whatever he wants.
"No," I whisper back. "He could sleep through anything. It's more that..."
I look at him, not knowing how to finish what I'm trying to say.
"You're not afraid that he'll come down right at this moment, but you're afraid to get too close and comfy with a guy in your house right now?" Larson guesses.
I nod. Something like that.
Going to a Halloween party with friends and having a random hookup at a hotel while someone watches Caleb overnight is one thing. But the fact that I have Larson in our house— where Caleb is supposed to feel the most comfortable and safe— is something I questioned before even inviting Larson up.
I know he's a good guy to have around Caleb so I decided in favor of it. But making love on the kitchen table is something else altogether.
"Look," Larson says, pushing my hair back and staring into my eyes. "You have nothing to worry about. I care about you. I care about Caleb. I'm not going anywhere."
"Really?" I ask, collapsing into his chest.
I love how strong and broad it is. I fit in it perfectly and it makes me feel so safe and secure.
"Really," he says. "I mean, I can't exactly stay in New York City forever. I'm going back to New Mexico. But you know I'm always here for you and Caleb
in whatever way you might need."
Yeah, there is that little problem of the distance that separates us.
I let Larson resume kissing me, telling myself I'll worry about that problem later. It's enough to hear him say he cares for me and for Caleb. I certainly need that in my life right now.
He enters me quickly and strongly, and my body relaxes, happy to have him inside me again.
"Do you like when I fuck you on your kitchen table?" he asks me, putting his hands on the table while he works his cock up and down and in and out of me.
"Yes," I gasp, feeling a surge of pleasure. "I'm coming. You're already making me come."
"I love making you come," he says, gripping my breasts now as I feel the sweet release. "It's my favorite thing to do."
"That was so strong," I tell him, as he starts to touch my clit. "It feels so sensitive. I think I need a little break."
"Of course," he says, and picks me up off the table. "It just means I've done my job well."
With my legs wrapped around him, he carries me upstairs.
"I'm assuming your room is to the left?" he asks me.
"Yes."
"Have you had enough of a break?"
He lays me down on the bed and kneels on the floor.
"Yes," I answer, happy that he's going to keep the focus on me.
He takes my pussy into his mouth and sucks on my clit and then licks all around, gently yet firmly.
"Oh my God," I tell him, holding onto his head as his tongue makes its way inside and all around me.
He plays with my clit and fingers me and then he goes back to sucking on my pussy until I can barely handle it.
"Larson," I wiggle around in pleasure. "I'm coming. I'm coming in your mouth."
"Good," he says, and I can feel my pussy juices running into his mouth. He licks them up happily. "I'm glad you still like it."
When I'm done coming, he stands up and then gets on top of me in the bed.
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