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Jared
“Coop, kid, come on. It’s time to get up, buddy.”
My three-year-old makes a groan worthy of an Oscar as he tosses in his bed, but doesn’t move to get up. He’s developed his mother’s love of sleep, something that makes my chest pang when I think about it. I deprived him of ever finding that out himself.
“Don’t wanna,” he whines, and I don’t blame him. I don’t want to be up either, but I have to be at work this morning.
“Kid, cut me some slack here.”
“What’s slack?” His words run together and it takes me a second to understand what he’s asking. I swear I spend half my life translating the untranslatable. His language is getting better, though. He knows a lot more words and he’s not afraid to use them, but sometimes he has trouble pronouncing stuff and he gets easily frustrated when I don’t understand him right away. I can’t help but think Robyn would have been better at this shit than me.
“It means get up without complaining, Cooper.” I rake my fingers through my hair as I say it, feeling a little of my patience slipping.
He groans again, but does start to move. “Why do we always gots to be getting up?”
Good question, kid, and not one I have an answer to.
“Because Daddy has to work and you need to go to Grandma’s. You like Grandma’s.”
“Yeah.” He lets out a huff of breath as he sits up, rubbing his eyes. “I loves Grandma, but Daddy, I’m tired.”
“Me too, pal.” I help him off the small toddler bed and then we start our morning routine. I feed my son, get him ready for his day and then I see to myself.
I never expected to be a single parent. It’s rough as hell—especially now he’s bigger and able to get into things he shouldn’t. I feel like I need to have three sets of eyes on him at all times. Honestly, I don’t know how people manage with more than one kid. Juggling Cooper’s needs is hard enough.
We pile into the car and I strap him into his seat before climbing into the driver’s side and taking off for Mom’s. She’s been a rock for me over the last few years. I didn’t handle Robyn’s death well and she was such a support while I was trying to deal with the loss of my wife and caring for a newborn baby. I would have drowned without her.
Cooper sings to himself as I drive and I can’t help but smile at him. He’s something else, he really is. I didn’t think I could love a person as much as I love my son, but what I feel for him is something else. I’d die for my kid if I had to—without question. No one and nothing will ever touch my boy.
When I reach my mom’s house, I pull onto the driveway and come around the car to his door to unstrap him from the car seat. I lift him down to the ground and take his hand immediately. I’m always worried he’ll wander into the road, even though it’s a really quiet street Mom lives on.
“Let’s go find Grandma,” I tell him and together we head to the house.
The back door is, as always, open, so we step straight into the kitchen where I find Mom drinking a cup of caffeine at the table.
“Good morning.” She beams. I think she loves my kiddo as much as I do.
I watch as Coop rushes into her open arms and hugs her tight, like he’s afraid to let go. Maybe he is. Me and my mom are the only constants in his little life.
“Why don’t you go and play in the living room, little man. I’ll be with you once I’ve said bye to your daddy.”
Coop nods and starts in that direction, then comes back and hugs my legs. This kid…
I hug him back, letting all my love for him out in that one gesture. He gives me a squeeze before rushing off to find his toys.
“He seems in good spirits this morning,” Mom notes.
“You should have seen him an hour ago. He wasn’t happy about getting up.”
“He likes his sleep.” Mom zeroes her attention on me. “Are you okay? You look a little on edge.”
How can she tell that just by looking? Momtuition is a real thing. “I’m fine.”
“J—”
“Really, Mom, I’m fine.” She cocks a brow at me and I sigh. “Okay, I’m not, but I’m dealing.”
“What happened?”
