Mikey and I sat on the couch on an average, dull Saturday Actually, I was laying on my back and Mikey was laying on top me while we watched one of his seizure-inducing cartoons with all the bright, florescent colors. His cheek was squished against my chest with his head rising every time I inhaled. Mikey was still in his Superman feety pajamas and I was in a plain white t-shirt and shorts.
“Daddy?”
“Yeah, Mikey?”
“I invited Louis over.”
Part of me wasn’t surprised in the slightest. The other part was trying to be mad about him inviting someone over without asking first.
I scowled him gently, “Mikey, you know better.”
“But we were just texting and I told him we’re not doing anything today,” he complained, “And Louis said he wasn’t doing anything either and I just asked if he wanted to come over and he said sure. I’m sorry, daddy.”
I sighed, unable to really be mad at him, “Fine. When will he be here?”
“He said around 1.”
I checked my watch, “It’s 12:54.”
“Oops.”
I nodded it at him, “Yes. Oops. We’re not even dressed.”
The summoned man picked that time to buzz on the intercom. Michael shot up and scampered over to the intercom to buzz him in. He unlocked the door then settled right back on my chest. A minute later, the door bust open with an amount of excitement that definitely didn’t belong to Louis.
“Franco Federico Noë Rodriguez!”
I froze at the furious voice of my mother.
The small woman was glowered over us. She began yelling in Spanish, “How dare you not tell me about my grandson. Why did I have to find out from Troy slipping up? And why does Troy call more often than you do? How do you think I feel when I find out that you have a son and didn’t say a word to me about him? I did not raise you to be so disrespectful or to keep secrets from your mother. Who else knows? Who’s the mother? Where is she? When was this secret grandson of mine born? You do plan to take responsibility for him, don’t you? If you think I worked three jobs for you to grow up and shirk your responsibilities as a father, you have another thing coming for you. You are going to raise this boy to be a good man if it’s the last thing you do.”
After she finished her rant, she looked down at Michael, who was trembling in fear on my chest. Her disposition did a 180 as she went from mercilessly ripping me a new one to cooing over him.
“Oh, Franco, who is this adorable boy? I just want to take him home in my purse.” She hugged Michael against her ample chest, “Hello, little one, I’m Franco’s mama, you can call me abuela Ana.”
When she finally gave him enough room to breathe, Michael beamed, “Hi, I’m Michael.”
“Oh, Miguel, aren’t you cute? Franco, who are this adorable boy’s parents?”
I took her interest in Michael as a chance to inch away, far enough to get a good head-start with running, before answering, “That would be me… and my ex-girlfriend.”
Her glare became sharp like the knives she was mentally throwing at me.
“Mama, let me explain,” I whined, feeling like I was in fifth grade again, “She never told me she was pregnant and left him with his grandma and his grandma died a few weeks ago and his lawyer brought him here and told me that his grandma wanted me to take care of him and I am taking care of him. I drive him to school every morning and make dinner every night and we hang out together on the weekends like now which you sort of interrupted.”
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Treasure Box
Romance(Spin off of Not so Bad, Just Violent) Franco was twenty-six and single. Not single by choice, single because he always managed to screw up his relationships in one way or another. Then he became single with a nine year old kid. And with the nine ye...
