A/N: Part II of John's first full day of the week with his little family. Perhaps a walk at the park for the day, after a little playtime—and a few laundry loads? Two kids, one under the age of two, and yes, there'd be some of that going on, haha.
And of course, some more stinky-stink diapers, probably, hahaha (though from what I remember, formula poop wasn't so bad—just erm, plentiful)!
Thanks again for reading. Cheers!
In the eat-in kitchen, Aaron sat in his high chair, securely strapped, and banged away on his tray table with the sippy cup of diluted orange juice John had given him, while Joss prepared the pancakes, scrambled eggs and sausage for breakfast. Actually, what was in the cup was pretty much water with a hint of OJ, a little refreshment that he knew his son was rather fond of. That would keep him happy until his formula and cereal were fully prepared.
Joss had also cut up an apple, taking half of it for herself, and peeling and slicing the other half, in quarters, for the baby, his other tiny hand gripping the fruit tightly before awkwardly putting it to his mouth and pulling it away to investigate the yummy thing mommy had given him. That got him to stop banging the sippy cup on the tray. Pretty soon, the apple would be little more than mashed mush once Aaron Reese got through with it.
Aaron was quite fond of apple pieces, as well as goldfish and graham crackers, and Joss breathed a sigh of relief that he wasn't as picky a baby about finger food as Taylor had been. Having not had another child to compare with before, she figured both her babies were going to be like that. But Aaron was nothing if not possessed of a fairly hearty appetite.
He was just like his daddy, who, upon smelling the aroma of the honey smoked sausages on the fire, patted his belly and smiled a beaming smile at Joss. "Mmmm, sausages. Can't wait. How many do I get?"
"How many do you want?" she asked, incredulously. Though his middle years were starting to show more on him—including in the midsection, he was still a remarkably fit and handsome man. All that running around after bad guys on the streets of New York left little chance for calories to pile up and make him fat. Plus, he had an affinity for sports like street basketball, and he lifted weights. All of that together kept him tall, slender—and fine. She was a lucky lady—and their baby would be just as handsome when he grew up. Hell, he already was.
"Oh, at least four. You know, a growing boy's gotta eat," he smirked playfully at her. "Speaking of which, hey, Aaron?" John tapped his finger on the baby's shoulder, trying to steer his attention away from the now-mushy apple in his hand. Aaron, do you smell those yummy pancakes on the griddle? Mommy makes the best pancakes. Would you like some yummy pancakes, too?"
When Aaron turned his head towards John, he stared at him, wide-eyed, while his father spoke to him. It was one of those gazes that John lived for: the boy's brown eyes widened in wonder, his little mouth, smeared with apple goo, formed in a bow; his chubby baby cheeks drooping adorably. And there he remained in rapt attention, until said attention was pulled away by his mother's scooping pancakes onto plates and walking them over to the table. The other breakfast items soon followed, and Aaron was now fully intrigued by what it all was that his mommy had put on the table.
"Ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma...boooozzzzz...mmmm...ma-ma-ma-ma..." he spoke, and then proceeded to bang his sippy cup on the tray table again.
"Don't worry, Aaron, baby. Mommy didn't forget you. Just hang on."
"At least he's being calm about it," John said, grinning. "Last time I was here, you couldn't get him that bottle fast enough. Huh, little guy? You were a hungry wee mite, weren't you?"
Aaron cooed in agreement with whatever his father said, before breaking into a happy squawk, bouncing in the chair and banging on the table even harder. Pretty soon, they all heard a clatter on the linoleum floor. The sippy cup had been soundly dropped. But that didn't bother Aaron. He continued to bang on the tray with his apple-smeared hands instead.
John laughed. "Uh-ohhhh! Oh, well, Aaron. There goes your juice."
Joss turned from the counter and after testing a heated bottle on her hand, deemed it sound, and handed it instead to Aaron, who was most happy to get it. Kicking his feet in anticipation, he reached up with both hands and promptly popped the nipple in his mouth, greedily sucking down his breakfast. John pulled the high chair closer to his own to keep a better eye on him, as well as to fix his bib, this one bedecked with puppies and sunflowers.
Joss finished setting the breakfast table, then sat down next to Aaron on the other side of his high chair. John began to dig in, pulling the syrup towards him, as well as the orange juice and coffee. Through the pulling and sucking on his bottle, Aaron watched his father's every move.
Pretty soon, he couldn't resist the temptation, and with all the gusto he could muster, threw the nearly empty bottle on the floor along with the sippy cup, and began straining his little body against the confines of the high chair to reach John's meal, his frustration level mounting with each foiled attempt to get his hands on any part of Daddy's food.
John, on instinct, reacted to his son's behavior with just a touch of irritation. "Aaron, no! Not nice." he said sternly, picking up the bottle and the sippy cup from the floor. Getting up to rinse off the nipple, he returned it to the child—who proceeded to promptly toss it on the floor again. This time, John was a bit more annoyed, and his voice was sterner.
"Aaron, stop. Stop. No. No. Not okay," he said, shaking his head and locking eyes with the baby.
The boy froze in his seat at his father's voice, all fussing and whimpering ceased. He fixed on John the same wide-eyed stare he had before. He then turned it on Joss, who was watching the whole scene with amusement. She threw up her hands.
"Don't look at me, Aaron. You heard your daddy. He said 'no.' That's what he means. And you know that word already."
John, not one to stay grouchy with his boy, soon became amused, too, by his antics, and opted to make a deal with him. "Ah, you'll never get it that way. Hmm? You want a little bit, honey? You want some of mommy's yummy pancakes?"
Aaron answered, as he could, in the affirmative.
"Okay, here. There we go. Mmmm, yummmm..." John took a tiny piece of pancake without syrup, and placed the bite-sized morsel there, making sure it went all the way in his mouth. Aaron's way of breaking down solid food without teeth was to stick his tongue and lips out, back-and-forth, until the food broke down and he could swallow it. Combined with his wide-eyed stare, his little sweet pea face and tousled hair, he was simply adorable, and John's heart exploded in love for his boy all over again. How had he done it? How had he lived all these years without this feeling, this experience of being a father to such a precious child as Aaron? How?
And how would he keep up the arrangement he had with his mother without it breaking that very same heart, each time he had to do it again? How would he be able to leave them, this time?
"John? You okay, baby?" Joss asked, noticing his faraway look.
"Yeah...yeah, I'm okay. I'm...just...okay..." His voice was suddenly soft, wistful, even, and he tilted his head in resignation towards no direction in particular. He couldn't really describe what he was feeling at the moment, so he didn't try, lest he make a fool of himself as he had almost the night before.
But Joss knew him well, well enough that he didn't have to say anything. In fact, in all the time she'd known him, her discovery of him and how stubborn, unpredictable—and wonderful—he could be never came because he told her anything; he was like a closed book. At first, it annoyed her. But when she figured out that she could figure him out without the reveals, she felt much better about the whole situation. She just spent time with him, got to know him and trust him with her life and the well-being of the city.
And then, she came to love him. And that made all the difference.
"You're right. It is okay. We find our way, John, and it's okay. We find our way.
Putting her fork down, she took his hand into hers and squeezed. He responded, in turn, with a soft smile, a long, loving gaze, and then, a kiss to her upturned palm.
##
After breakfast, and a burp from Aaron that would blow the house down after his bottle, John got him settled for his morning baby bath in his little bathtub, while Joss threw the first of three laundry loads in the back hall washer. Having two children, one of which was under the age of two, in addition to herself, the laundry never seemed to stop coming. Taylor was old enough to do his own laundry, and sometimes he did; but she still liked to make that task her special project. Just because he was growing up so fast, nearly off to college, and just because she now had Aaron, didn't for a second mean that Taylor wasn't still her baby, too, and that she didn't still fuss over keeping him together.
He was her first-born, her pride and joy—and for such a long time it had just been the two of them. There was a special bond between them, different to the one she had with his little brother, and that would never change. She just hoped she'd learned enough from her mistakes in raising him that she wouldn't repeat the same ones second time around.
She had enough guilt to last her a lifetime over Taylor—but then, as her mother told her: "Chile, there's no rule book when it comes to raising children. I know that as well as anybody. You just do the best you can and hope it all works out for the best." So far, it had. Heading into his junior year, Taylor was doing well at Brooklyn Magnet, near the top of his class, and he was already beginning to take on college tour field trips, Penn State, UCONN, and Morehouse being three of his top interest schools. But the idea of her son being far away from home rankled her. UCONN wasn't so bad, she supposed, neither Penn State. But Morehouse was all the way in Georgia. They had some distant family there, cousins, an uncle, but no one Joss would know well enough to look out for her son, on his own for the first time.
There was still a little bit of time. He might just decide on Columbia or NYU, perfectly fine, top-tier schools right there in the City. Ultimately, she would support him in whatever he wanted to do, but she did hope he'd pick closer to home.
She should call him and see how he was faring with his dad. He would spend a few weeks in the summer with his father every year, along with every other weekend. Of course, now that he was older, she gave him more leeway in how much time he spent there. But so far, Taylor seemed content with the arrangement as it had been. Now that Aaron was here, he was most keen to be there for her and him as much as he could, especially without John being able to be home every night. She decided she'd check in on him before she put Aaron down for bed. That would make it seem as if she wasn't smothering him too much.
With the load in, Joss left the laundry room to wash up the breakfast dishes and then to her computer, to answer emails from her summer students. She had been able to schedule the John Jay class for two days a week with an hour and a half instruction time each class. It was an intro class, Constitutional Basics, and she provided weekly assignments that were submitted electronically. Generally, the class ran during Aaron's afternoon nap time, which was nice for her—and her students—but every once in a bit, he threw a wrench in the works and her students were treated to a bit of entertainment from the little show boater that was her son.
While she was on the computer, John returned downstairs with Aaron, now fully dressed in a baseball tee-shirt, denim shorts, and socks. His hair was damp from washing, and he smelled of BabyBaby Bubble Wash and lotion.
"Aaron's all fresh and clean! Yes, yes! Mmm, give Mommy huggies."
Aaron gurgled enthusiastically as he sat in his mother's lap with a teething ring in his hand. John wondered if another bib wouldn't be the best thing for him, since the drool threatened to make him a mess all over again.
"Joss, I was thinking: what do you say to us going down to Bentley Park this afternoon? All that storminess is over with, it will be a gorgeously hot day. Would love to get this little guy rolling around outdoors for a while."
Joss nodded her head in agreement. "Yes. Yes, I think that would be great. Just let me get that load of laundry I put in into the dryer. And both of us need showers too. We can take turns."
"Okay. You first. Always takes you longer anyway." he murmured under his breath, just enough so she could hear. His Special Forces training came in handy for moments when projectiles like the pencil eraser came at him from Joss' desk. Aaron, ever observant as he was, was fascinated by the pink thing with the little hole in it, as well as where it landed on the floor. Immediately, he he fought against his mother's restraint to get at that eraser. John grinned while picking it up.
"Uh-uh, my little fella. Not for you. And Mommy should know better," he teased. "Hmm, Aaron? Shouldn't she know better? Naughty Mommy."
Joss rolled her eyes playfully. "You'll get worse than that if you don't quit it. Here, take your son back. And you can put the clothes in the dryer." She handed Aaron back to his father with a kiss on his cheek and headed towards the stairwell—but not before John managed a quick swat to her bottom.
"Owoo!" she exclaimed with a start and a giggle. "John Reese, behave!"
"Get in the shower, woman. Aaron and I will have some fun down here on the floor."
Joss climbed the stairs leaving her two men in the living room. John decided to do a little preparation for the park trip by spreading out the floor quilt they used for Aaron to have free reign over the open space in the living room. Then, he got some of his favorite toys spread out and placed Aaron on the blanket, on his knees. When he'd last been home, Aaron's crawling was coming along, though he still tumbled over on his side from time to time.
Now, however, the boy was a pro, easily outpacing John, who had dropped to his knees alongside him and scampered after him in play. And now that Aaron was crawling better, he was also testing his other limits now, too. He was in the beginning stages of pulling himself up to stand.
John marveled the boy's progress in just a few short weeks. And now, he was beginning to feel some of that strain in the body that came along with having old bones parenting young ones. Keeping up with his son, who was all about exploration and discovery, was proving to be a test for him too. Especially when parts of the living room that couldn't be completely child-proofed weren't. And Aaron knew exactly which parts those were.
"Aaron, no." John gently said as he went to balance himself on the hard end of the sofa arm rest. Not too far from that stood the coffee table. One wrong wiggle and he'd tumble over, hitting his tiny head on it or the wooden floor not covered by rugs. John scooted over and redirected him towards another, wider part of the quilt. He tried to interest him in the colorful stacking rings spread out on the floor—but Aaron had other ideas, this time crawling over to the old-fashioned radiator under the window across from the couch, his little head and bottom bobbing up and down as he crawled. Underneath, he managed to find something—an old piece of cracker—perhaps, and proceeded to lift it, as to put it in his mouth. His father's admonishment, even stronger than at breakfast this time, stopped him.
"Aaron, no! I said no! Not in your mouth. Uh-uh."
Aaron looked at his father, wide-eyed again, and babbled at him, as if to say "No, Daddy? But why?" When he went to move the piece of fluff covered whatever-it-was again to his mouth, John repeated himself once more, sternly. Aaron still regarded him with wide eyes, stuck in his tracks, gurgling away, his gaze returning from John to the thing in his hand and back to John again.
John shook his head before scooting over to remove the nasty thing he found, which indeed was a piece of old cracker. Leave it to his boy to be such a sleuth. Between his mother and him, the kid had no choice.
Soon, though, he was on his back with Aaron on his belly, then in mid-air, then on his belly again. More games of Daddy Airlines. Aaron squealed, drooled, and squealed some more as he sailed through the air, then bounced, then rolled over on the quilt. John kissed and nuzzled and tickled his son, and he basked in the glow of his love.
Soon, Joss returned from her shower fresh and spry, dressed in a dark blue sundress with sunflower prints and a pair of flat sandals. Her hair was in a loose ponytail, and she wore just a hint of makeup with her posted silver earrings.
She was beautiful. She was the mother of his son. She was everything.
"Oh, boy. What have you two been up to? I heard all that commotion. Never quiet when Daddy comes home, huh, baby? Like I got three kids in here," she teased.
"You better believe it. Only thing is, this kid likes his mommy in her sundress. Even better out of it."
Joss grinned. "John, stop talking dirty in front of the baby. There will be time for that later. Did you get the laundry out?"
"Mmm hmm, count on it. Umm, no. We kinda forgot."
" Yep. Three kids. Well, if you smell bad, I'm not touching you at all. Upstairs, shower, now. Come on, Aaron. You can help Mommy get the clothes dried."
John handed the baby over to his mother and got up for his shower. He kissed her forehead and nuzzled the baby. "I'll be right back. Don't leave the house without me."
"Wouldn't dream of it. You're my relief."
"Love you, Joss."
"Love you, too, John. Now, go shower."
Up the stairs he skipped, two-by-two, as she walked the baby to the laundry room, him attempting to pull at her ponytail. The sun was already starting to blaze and beam high through the windows, and the day promised good things, only good things ahead of them. Joss hummed a little tune. She wasn't so alone whenever John came home, never felt she was the only one in the world with an infant son completely dependent on her. When John came home, everything was perfect. All the possibilities were possible.
She would hold onto that for as long as she could. For Sunday next was right around the corner.
A/N: "Sunday next" was the day John got prepped to leave again. Finch through the earpiece, Man-in-the-Suit suit back on, a slight distance overcomes him, the whole bit. He'd be "John Reese" again, not "Daddy." This is hard on Joss as much as she says it is for the two boys. It would have to be!
Isn't that Aaron a little scamp? John's got his work cut out for him this week for sure, haha!
We'll keep the fun moving along. Off to the park!
Thanks for reading, and best of all!