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Ivan handed me Bam-Bam so fast my head spun.
Please, and he said he didn’t have favorites.
I took Bam-Bam, and he pulled my hair, not the sort of hair pulling I had in mind for date night. I untangled his grubby hands. He was already testing me while Ivan, for the first time in days, looked down at the little one and smiled. “We’ll have a good time.”
“Keep them alive.” Ash slapped Ivan on the back. “We’ll grab him around ten, as far as Bam-Bam…” His voice trailed off.
He stared, and Bam-Bam straight-up tilted his head and said, “Thank you.”
For no reason.
Only it sounded like “Fuck you” every time.
We were always confused if he just couldn’t say his T’s or if he truly meant what he said.
Some days, I think he honestly knew the words and meant them.
I shuddered and held him closer while Ash cleared his throat and murmured, “Welcome, little dude, and on that note.”
He stalked out of the house.
“Walt.” Ivan’s tone said it all, like he had already given up now that we were babysitting both kids. “He even looks like a Walt, what the hell kind of Italian name is Walt? Do they really want him to grow up to be an accountant? It’s like they spoke nerd over him!” He paused and caught his breath, then used one finger to point at the poor infant and whispered like Walt knew words already. “Walt is not a killer’s name.”
Walt looked up at him and giggled, he had a full head of jet-black hair and the prettiest blue eyes, one small dimple on his right cheek and lashes that I would kill for. Ivan was right, the guy looked like he wanted to dance in a field of daisies and burst out into song, then knit a sweater just in case someone caught a chill.
Whatever. I wouldn’t admit Ivan was right, I think that was part of the rules the Family built for us, don’t give in, even if you’re wrong, it just starts arguments.
I set Bam-Bam down. “Yes, because that’s what you should think when you birth new life into the world… might name him Damon, kind of sounds like Demon, he could kill people.”
Ivan held Walt against his chest and pulled down his little burp rag. “It’s like being excited that your kid will one day become a sociopath rather than go to college and shed a tear over it.”
“Yes.” Bam-Bam chose that moment to give me a thumbs up, then run into the wall before falling down, then jumping up and sprinting into the living room. “My thoughts exactly, do you ever just like look at Bam-Bam and think, yeah, he’s going to be a drug lord? Because I often think that may be his journey.”
Ivan looked around the corner while Bam-Bam stacked his different snacks in a row as if he was getting ready to sell them to the highest bidder. “Guaranteed, if I handed him a chocolate bar that little shit would still only hand over one bag of fruit snacks. A chocolate bar should at least equal three packs.”
“NO!” Bam-Bam yelled.
“Shit, he heard me.”
“Shit, shit, shit!” Bam-Bam laughed. “Shit, I shit, you shit—”
“—we all shit,” Ivan grumbled. “For the record, I’m telling them that you taught him that word.”
“He says worse.” I shrugged. “All right, let’s get them fed and then put on a movie that will more than likely make both of us want to inflict violence on each other.”
Ivan sighed and held Walt close to his chest, then put him over his shoulder and started rubbing his back. “Yeah, yeah, I say we order pizza and then feed this little dude some yogurt.”
“GURT!” Walt yelled. “GURT!”
The amount of energy it took to even walk over to the fridge was not a good sign for the rest of the night, especially since it wasn’t even that late yet. “What’s their bedtime again?”
“Now,” Ivan groaned. “I think in like two hours.”
“Two hours of hell, awesome.”
“Well, you live with me, I’m pretty sure you can handle two kids.”
I slow clapped. “Wow, you finally compared yourself to a toddler and a baby, I’m so proud that you’re seeing what we’ve known all along. You’re a child.”
