Happy Miserable Mess (FOB/Patrick Stump FanFic)

Chapter 13

I woke with a start when something landed on my back. I groaned in pain and buried my face in the pillow.

"Daddy! Daddy! Wake up!" Parker's voice sounded from above me.

I glanced back over my shoulder, barely being able to see my son sitting on my back, a wide smile stretched across his face. I rolled my eyes and rested my head back down on the pillow, groggily asking, "What time is it?"

"Morning!"

"Thanks, Park. That's so helpful," I chuckled before sitting up, my son rolling off my back and falling down on the bed, laughing because he found it amusing.

I sat back on my heels and rubbed my face with my hands, dropping them down in my lap and looking at the blurry digital clock on the nightstand which slowly came into focus. 7:36a.m.

I ran my fingers through my hair and looked back over at my son, who had gotten up and was beginning to jump up and down on the bed.

"We're goin' down down in an erwier round. Sugar we're goin' down swingin'!" He sang as he bounced up and down. I shook my head and rolled out of bed, grabbing my duffel bag and looking for a pair of clothes to change into.

I slipped on a clean shirt and a new pair of pants before going to do the same to Parker. But he didn't want to get dressed, so instead he was running around the room in his underwear. "Come on, Park. Stop messing around," I begged.

He rushed up to me and clung onto my legs, looked up at me with a wide grin stretched across his face, "Are the chockwit chip pancakes ready?"

"They will be once you get dressed," I told him, trying my best to hide how annoyed I was with him.

He groaned, "Okay." He stuck his arms in the air, waiting for me to put his shirt on for him. I sighed and bent down, slipping the child-sized long-sleeve shirt over his head.

"You know, you're getting old enough to dress yourself," I muttered as I pulled his shirt down over his small stomach. "I shouldn't be dressing you still."

"Mommy would still dress me," He argued quietly, shifting his gaze down to his feet.

I heaved a sigh and stood back up, grabbing a pair of jeans for him and getting him into them. Once I fastened the button that held his pants together around the waist, he ran away from me and out of the room, yelling, "Catch me if you can, Daddy!"

I groaned and ran after him, following him downstairs and into the kitchen where I found Jeanette standing at the stove, making the pancakes like she promised she would, and my dad sitting at the table, reading the paper. I swooped my son up in my arms and showered him with kisses, making him burst out into a fit of giggles and pleas for me to stop.

Jeanette glanced back at us and smiled, "Well look who finally decided to wake up." My dad glared at us over the rims of his glasses, shaking the newspaper and going back to reading it. "How'd you sleep?"

"Okay," I retorted, setting my son down and pulling out a chair adjacent to the one my dad was in, sitting down in it. I actually did get some sleep last night, and I felt the best I had in a long time.

My son ran up to Jeanette and hugged her legs tightly. She giggled and ruffled his hair. "What about you, Parker? Was the bed comfy enough for you?"

"It was okay, but Daddy snored a lot."

I scoffed, "I do not snore." Jeanette glanced over at me and grinned. I grinned back.

"Well, pancakes are almost ready, buddy," She remarked, looking back down at Parker, "Why don't you join your dad and grandpa and I'll bring them over when they're done?" He nodded his head in agreement and scurried over to the table, climbing up into the chairs and sitting on his knees so he could see us. He looked so happy here, the happiest I'd seen him in a while.

Jeanette flipped the last of the pancakes onto the big plate she had and brought them over, "Eat up, guys."

*****

"So what are you going to do today, Patrick?" My dad's girlfriend asked me as we sat at the table after breakfast. My dad was standing, putting our dirty dishes in the sink.

I shrugged my shoulders, "I'm not quite sure yet. I don't know which place I want to take him to first."

"What places are you going to take him to?" My dad questioned, glancing back at me over his shoulder as if he actually gave a damn about me. It humored me really. He didn't even know which son of his I was.

"Places that were special to his mom and me," I answered, irregardless of how inconsiderate my father really was.

"Why?"

"I just want to go to them, is that so wrong?" I found myself becoming defensive.

"Calm down, I was just asking," He retorted, turning around and walking back over to the table and kissing his girlfriend on the head, "Hey, I've got to meet up with the guys. I'll be home around dinner time."

"Okay. Have fun!" Jeanette called out to him as he made his way to the door. He waved to us and left the house. I heaved a sigh. Jeanette met my gaze and a kind smile appeared on her face, "I think what you're doing is really sweet, Patrick."

"Thanks," I muttered, standing up, "Hey, do you know if that old little gallery is still here?"

"Old little gallery?"

"You know, that one where the guy showcased all of his paintings, sold a couple here and there. It had to close, though, after he died. I was just wondering if the building's still there."

"Oh that place? Yeah, I think it's still there."

"Awesome," I said, looking over at Parker who still had chocolate smeared across his face. I chuckled and walked over to him, picking him up out of the chair, "Come on, Park. You and I are gonna go somewhere cool, after we clean your face off."

"Nooooo!" He cried as I took him away.