Living with Ruby is going to be the death of me, and it’s only been a few days. Reaching down, I adjust my rapidly hardening dick. Apparently, this is now a permanent problem.
Footsteps pad down the hallway, and I turn to see my son standing there.
“Morning,” Aiden says, stretching his arms over his head.Kids have an uncanny ability to show up at the worst possible moment, and mine is no exception.
“Hey, buddy. Breakfast?”
Nodding through a yawn, he slides onto the stool. He rests his head against his folded arms, taking me back to nights at the bar. I should be offering him a beer and advice about his failing marriage.
Ruby comes over and rinses out her mug. “Morning,” she says. “Sleep well?”
“I had a weird dream about Jerry. He was as big as a dinosaur.”
She walks over to the fridge and pulls out the orange juice, pouring a glass. “Wow. That’s crazy. Was dinosaur Jerry playing dead?”
Aiden laughs. “Nope.”
Ruby slides the drink in front of him.
It’s amazing how much he’s opened up to her already, but I’m not surprised. Ruby has this way of setting people at ease. It’s why so many people are drawn to her. It’s whyIwas drawn to her, why I still am.
I crack a few more eggs into the pan and scramble them up. “I’m off for two days. I was thinking we could have a camp out.”
Aiden’s face lights up at the suggestion. “Really? Can Ruby come?”
I try not to let my disappointment show, but I was looking forward to a little one-on-one time. It has nothing to do with Ruby and everything to do with missing my son, wanting to connect with him.
We had a rocky start, and I’ve since made a conscious effort to spend time with him as often as possible, so he knows I’ll always be there for him—that I’ll never leave him the way his mom did.
Or the way my dad did.
Ruby’s gaze meets mine, and before I can answer, she places a reassuring hand over his. “I’d love to, little dude, but I think you should spend some time with your dad, and I have to get some writing done. Maybe next time?”
His shoulders slump, mirroring my own disappointment from moments before. “Ok.”
“You’ll have a great time. And don’t worry about Jerry. I’ll take good care of him while you’re away.”
Aiden perks up a little. “He really likes lettuce. And bananas. And he likes scratches behind his ears, and he has this ball he loves, and?—”
I slide Aiden’s breakfast toward him, interrupting his extensive bunny babysitting list. “Slow down, buddy. How about you eat first, and you can show Ruby everything she needs to know after we pack. Sound good?”
He shoves a massive bite of scrambled eggs into his mouth. I turn my attention to Ruby and mouth the words, ‘thank you.’ She gives me a tight-lipped smile in return, crinkling her nose.
Ruby has this way of anticipating my needs, and she does things without question. It’s jarring. I’ve never been cared for like this, and I’m not sure what to do with it. I know one thing for certain—I have to keep my distance. I can’t let the lines blur any more than they already have.
She’s my nanny and I’m her ex-boyfriend’s brother. Ruby belongs on stage under the bright lights with a guitar in her hand, and I belong on the periphery, forever tucked away in the back corner of the arena watching her shine.
Later in the afternoon, I help Aiden pack up all of our camping essentials. It’s not much, just a cooler with some snacks, and a backpack of his favorite things. There’s a grove of trees at the back of my property that we use for camping. I spent last summer building a permanent deck for my canvas bell tent with poles to hang up string lights, and it’s the perfect getaway; it’s close to home, but it still feels like another world.
There’s a small fire pit nearby with horizontal logs for benches, and smaller logs for stools. Sometimes I imagine what it would be like to come out here with a family—a wife and a few more kids—but the thought is fleeting. I wouldn’t even know what a real family looks like. I’m content to be with my best bud and his stuffed dinosaur.
I’d like to give Aiden a family—a mom and siblings—but that’s not in the cards for me. It’s a risk I’m not willing to take. I refuse to become my father’s son.
We finish putting up the tent as the sun dips behind the lake, bringing the solar string lights to life. Aiden helps me gather tinder for the fire, and I grab a few logs from the woodpile. It’s dwindling; I make a mental note to come out here soon to replenish it.
Building a fire is like muscle memory for me, and Aiden is catching on quickly, too. I used to camp with my brother growing up, sometimes out of necessity when things went to shit at one of the foster homes. It was easier to hide out in the woods than to face whatever was waiting for us at home, if you can even call it a home.
When Breanna left, I swore I’d do better for Aiden.
