Page 33 of Wreckage of Us
“I don’t know,” he looks at me almost in distress. “Unka Wyatt lets me pee in the back yard,” he confesses, making me laugh. “I sit down when I go in the house.”
“This is the same thing as peeing in the yard,” I insist when I see he doesn’t look convinced. “Here, I’ll show you.” I stand up and undo my jeans. I have to pee too now that I think about it. Might as well turn it into an educational moment.
“Okay, pay attention,” I tell him and glance down to see him doing just that. “You grab it,” I show him, “then you point it.” The look on his face is priceless. “You don’t move it around,” I make sure to tell him. “Then you pee,” I shrug and let it go, sighing in relief as I empty my bladder. “And when you’re done,” I make sure to tell him, “you shake it a bit, so you don’t get your underwear wet, okay?” I do just that, then pull my jeans back up and walk to the sink. “And you always, always,” I repeat to him for emphasis, “wash your hands afterward.”
“Okay, Dad,” Ethan bobs his head up and down, then proceeds to do everything I just taught him, bringing tears to my eyes. Tears. What the fuck.
“That was very sweet,” Becca murmurs quietly from the open door where she’s waiting with a spray bottle of bleach and a stack of paper towels. “But you still can’t move in with me,” she continues in a hard voice.
“We’ll talk after they leave,” I tell her, then turn around just in time to see my son flushing the toilet, then walking to the sink to wash his hands. He is too short and has to lift himself on the tips of his toes to reach the faucet, same with the soap, but he does it.
“All done,” he announces after he dries his hands off.
I expect him to run back to Wyatt and Ali now that the potty situation has been resolved, but he’s just standing here staring at me and Becca.
“I’m just going to…” Becca motions with the spray bottle toward the floor where Ethan peed a little.
We move out of the way and watch her cleaning it, her face scrunching in an adorable frown when the smell hits her nostrils. That’s when I realize what she’s doing.
“Jesus, woman, give me that,” I grab the bleach and paper towels out of her hands. “Are you fuckin’ crazy?”
“What?” she sounds confused.
“You can’t be getting my baby high on bleach fumes,” I bark out, sounding a lot harsher than I meant it. The distressed gasp coming out of her confirms it. I ignore it and just wipe around the toilet, then stand up to take everything to the outside garbage can.
I am surprised when she follows me there, and so does Ethan.
“All done,” I repeat the words my son said in the bathroom after washing his hands.
“Dylan, you need to go…” Becca starts, but she is being cut off by the little human next to her.
“Ali said I can come stay here with you if I want,” Ethan informs me in a quiet voice, almost always with a serious look on his face. It’s like he’s wise beyond his years, and given how he lived for the first four years of his life, it is understandable.
“Yeah?” I squat back down to be more at his level, even though, I am still taller than he is in this position as well.
“Yes,” he nods big. “But I still live with her and the baby,” he makes sure to add. The fact that Wyatt doesn’t get included in that is making me smile.
“I get it,” I smile, hoping he can see how sincere I am. This little boy managed to change me on the inside in ways I never fathomed.
“And Julia is there, too,” he rushes to add.
“Who is Julia?” I ask, my curiosity definitely piqued. This is the second time I hear him mentioning her.
“Julia is my friend,” he explains. “She lives with her mom and dad.”
“Ah, makes sense,” I nod in agreement. “Do you see her a lot?”
“No.” The answer is so short and to the point, it takes me by surprise. I hear Becca chuckling from behind Ethan, and I look up. It’s weird, but it’s almost as if we’re sharing a moment.
“Would you like it if I came to visit you once in a while?” I ask in a tentative voice. “At Ali and Wyatt’s house,” I assure him.
“I like it here, too,” Ethan tells me. “I can see Grandma, too.”
“So you’d like to come visit us here?” My voice is almost shaking as I ask. This is some monumental shit, and I am trying really hard not to lose it.
“Yes.” He replies in the same fashion as before. One thing is for sure with this kid. He knows what he wants, and he is not afraid to say it. And that’s all thanks to my brother and his wife. This little boy would’ve been scarred for life had I not sent him to them when I did.
I hear a ding echoing in the open garage area, presumably from Becca’s phone, but she’s not leaving us here, so it must not be anything important.
