Part 2: Our Boy
The next day I wondered why I woke up in the morning. I expected to see Jon there next to me but he wasn't. I slept through the night? That wasn't possible because Spencer never slept through the night. Grabbing the house coat that was hanging on the closet door, I got up to inspect my home.
"Jon?" I spoke up as I walked across the hall to Spencer's room.
Well with this mystery, I expected to find Jon in Spencer's nursery. I knew that Spencer loved to be held and rocked as I read one of his books to him. The rocker was empty, the crib was empty. From overhead, though, I heard a creak in the ceiling. We were on the second floor and there was the full attic that I had done over for Jon. I heard the music now as I turned from the nursery and headed what looked like a closet door at the end of the second story hall.
Up in the attic I had asked Dwayne, Joe and some of the other guys to help put things up there for Jon, so that Jon could have his own space. In essence it was a man cave that covered the entire house. It had once been an apartment but now it looked like a living room and a weight room. There was a series of leather couches in front of a large flat screen near where the entrance door was. Then more towards the opposite side of the area was the exercise area. That was where I found Jon, and Spencer.
Spencer was laying on a pillow, looking up at Jon who was doing push ups. Every time Jon would lean down he would blow raspberries into Spencer's onsie covered belly. At three months old Spencer was laughing and smiling, these were the milestones that Jon loved to be involved with. Though Spencer's hair could be seen as the same color as Jon's, there was still a chance of it changing more towards my own hair later. But for the most part, Daddy Dean and Spencer could be seen as biological father and son.
"He looks so much like you," I remembered one woman telling Jon when were were at the store. "He's got your eyes."
And Jon, he smiled. While some times it was obvious that Jon was not Spencer's real father but I could also see that he loved him. I still had some internal issues with referring to Jon as Spencer's dad, though Jon didn't.
"He's my little man." Jon told the woman before taking my hand and walking towards the check out stand with me.
I walked over to the two boys who were having a grand ole time and sat with my legs crossed and my knees just above Spencer's head. When Jon looked up at me he smiled that cocky smile of his.
"Our boy is getting bigger." He said pushing himself up so that he was sitting facing me. He picked up Spencer with the pillow and placed him in his lap. "Isn't Mommy pretty, Spense?" He asked, looking at me.
My son looked at me and smiled. I leaned forward and kissed his head. I heard him laugh slightly, his little uncoordinated hands waving.
"Let's go get something to eat." I suggested. "And then we need to talk about something, Jon."
He sighed, looking down at Spencer. "Yeah, I think we do."
My kitchen was big, there was even a full dining room just off set from it. I loved that room, it was where I could think while I was fixing meals. Most of the time I didn't use my writing room because I had Spencer, and when I was writing if I was writing at all anymore, I was in this kitchen sitting at the island.
Jon put Spencer down in his car seat on the island and then started getting stuff out for food. I tried to get in the fridge until I felt Jon swat my butt.
"Get out of there. I'm here, I can do it."
"Last time you made something you burnt the mac and cheese." I responded while grabbing a water bottle out of the fridge.
"Hey, your brother has been helping me with that."
"Joe or Matt?" I asked.
He rolled his eyes. "Which one has the restaurant?"
This back and forth stuff was common for us. Bantering and whatnot. I still could remember that well when we were first introduced to each other.
Jon moved around the kitchen, Spencer and me watching him. My mind went back to when Jon and I first met, when I was pregnant with Spencer, whose real father was killed by my birth mother.
"Remember when we hated each other?" I asked.
"From what I remembered, a little of it was me liking you but not having the guts to admit it until around Thanksgiving of last year." He looked over his shoulder at me.
How could I forget that? Hence why he kept calling me Princess. That guy was Hell bent on fraying my last nerve. He enjoyed making me get pissed off at him.
"When Sarah," I started to say but Jon stopped me.
"Don't say her name. She's not around anymore and I want to keep that in the passed." He leaned down on the counter and kissed me. "I want us in the here and now, Princess."
I wanted him here permanently. I watched as Jon went back to cooking breakfast.
I looked at Spencer who seemed to be watching Jon. "Jon, can I ask you something? Did what happen at the last Raw event get you annoyed?"
Jon, as Dean Ambrose, was in a championship title match, which he won. That wasn't what happened though.
"The fans chanting Daddy Dean? Yeah, a little. Kinda sucks when I want to keep my personal life out of the ring, back in the locker room." He looked back at me.
I really couldn't blame him. Spencer wasn't biologically his. I didn't think Sketch would have minded me giving Spencer the last name of Anoa'i. It just felt so right. Spencer Joseph Anoa'i, named after his biological father and after Joe Anoa'i, my brother. Though I was white, not Samoan like the rest of the family, it was still fun to see some of the family pictures. Especially when Jon was involved.
"Summer called earlier, she was wondering if we could watch Noella for her and Scott for a few hours."
"I don't see the problem. Did Spencer wake up at all in the night?"
"Nope, not once. After I came in to change him he slept through the night." He looked back at me.
I smiled at him. He was so good to my son, if what has been going on in the last couple months I would say our son but that was still hit and miss at times.
"The guys want to see him though. Larry and some of the others that I work with."
"You want to Bring Spencer on the road?"
"Just for a week or two, he's three months old. That way we can have some time together and I get to see my kid, all in the same package." He shrugged.
So I took a bite of pride and asked him straight out. "Why not just move in with me, Jon? You're here most of the time anyway. Ma loves ya, Sika is all for having you around. It was his idea to give you the attic space. I've tried, Jon, to keep you here. But you won't."
He was cracking eggs and putting them in the pan that was on the burner. Jon didn't look at me, not that I expect him to.
"Can I think about it?" He asked.
"Yeah, I guess."
I stood up and did what felt right. Being mindful of the burner, I wrapped my arms around Jon's waist and pressed my face between his shoulder blades. "I love you, Jon." I mumbled into his tank top.
"Love you, too, Princess." Jon said as he put his hands on mine.
That was the best I could hope for but I still had an entire day to have him say yes to moving in with me.
One more part to go. Hope you guys enjoyed this update.
