I only own my OCs in this chapter. That's it.
Chapter 13
Time Flies: Johnny Reid
"A baby's born.
Momma cries. She sees a glance of his daddy in his eyes.
Take him home and watch him sleep,
stand and wonder who he's gonna be.
Then its Tonka Trucks and baseball gloves
Then his first kiss and his first love.
Oh the innocence, just don't last.
Our dreams and our future go by so fast."
Kieran Flack turned one on a gorgeous early summer day. A slight breeze rustled the tree tops and the sun was high and bright in a vibrant blue sky. Much like the day that he opened blue eyes the same color when he entered the world. He was a bubbly, vibrant child who loved everyone and everything and never sat still for a second. He loved to shower people with sloppy wet kisses and gave bear hugs around the neck and grab a hold of anything those little hands could get a hold of. Your hair, your ears, your nose, the chain around your neck. He laughed easily and was alert and happy. And healthy. The most important part. For his first birthday, his mother and father had taken him to the zoo and then too a park by their house where Danny and Erica had set up a few picnic tables and put up balloons and streamers and ordered pizza for everyone. little Morgan spent her time pushing Kieran in the baby swings or taking him on the little kid slide or blowing him bubbles. the latter had him in a fit of giggles on the grass. Stella and Mac brought the ice cream and birthday cake. From the same bakery they'd purchased their cake for their upcoming wedding from. Hawkes and Alexis brought cold drinks and junk food. Adam and Heather and Sid and Marty Pino brought themselves. And they all brought a whole lot of gifts. So many in fact that Flack joked they needed to rent a one bedroom apartment just for Kieran and all his stuff.
At the end of the day, when all the cake and ice cream and pizza and junk food had been eaten and all the presents opened and everyone had gone home and the moon had replaced the sun, Samantha sat in the rocking chair in her son's room and held on tight to that sleeping one year old in his tiny Yankees jersey that bore Alex Rodriquez' autograph (how Danny had pulled it off remained a secret). It seemed like just yesterday that she sat in that exact same spot, cuddling a tiny eight pounder, staring down into his angelic face and feeling the most overwhelming sense of love take over her entire body.
And fear. So much fear it was crippling. She knew nothing about taking care of a baby. Of taking care of someone that was so utterly dependent on you for everything. She could barely stand the smell of a crappy diaper, let alone bear the thought of spit up and all the bumps and bruises he'd get as he grew up. She was terrified of failing him. Of failing herself. What if she forgot to feed him or change him? What if, God forbid, she forgot him some where! Panic and terror would set in at such a thought and it would lead to other thoughts of something terrible happening to him. She hadn't slept a month straight because she'd been consumed with thoughts of SIDS and did nothing but tip toe back and forth to make sure he was still breathing.
And now, a year later, sadness and longing crept into her as she sat there, staring at her son. Her little boy was growing up. Far too fast for her liking. He was walking well on his own and using a sippy cup and learning and using new words everyday. And everyday he was looking and acting more and more like his father. The physical resemblance could not be denied. But now he had the same mannerisms, the same facial expressions. And she was sure, if his vocabulary was good enough, he'd also be just as off hand and sarcastic. He was changing. Growing. And it made her happy to see him doing so well, but made her sad at the same time. It was all going by way to fast. She suddenly missed those days of three a.m. feedings and boiling and sterilizing the bottles and being able to hold him while he was awake for longer than thirty seconds.
And if the first birthday had come so quick, so would all the others. And soon it would be the first day of school. Talk of his first play ground girlfriend. His first play ground fight. Followed by playing sports and meeting real girlfriends and sharing real kisses and having real heartbreaks. High school and college and...
She closed her eyes shut. Too many thoughts. Things that shouldn't even be taking over her brain.
"You asleep?" Flack asked quietly from the door way.
"No... just thinking."
"About?" he softly padded into the room and stood beside the chair.
"Things. About how fast he's growing up. About how fast he'll keep growing. And how old we're getting."
"Speak for yourself." Flack said. But he was feeling a little down in the dumps himself. Wasn't an easy thing accepting that your first born was getting big. That he couldn't get back the things he'd missed. And that he may not get the chance with another baby to make up for it. "I think you should put him in his crib and come to bed," he suggested. "Its almost midnight. You've been in here for a couple hours. Give him to me and I'll tuck hm in."
She nodded. Passed her son over into the strong, capable arms of his father. Watched as Flack carried his son to the crib on the far wall and tucked him in snugly and securely. He'd always been caring and attentive. A real hands on dad. From the time he was talking to and listening to the baby inside of her, to know. From changing diapers and giving baths to putting together toys and getting down on the floor to play. "I love you, you know." she suddenly said.
He turned away from the crib and smiled at her. "I know," he offered his hand. "And I love you, too."
"I want to have another one. Or at least try to have another one." she said, as she took his hand and got to her feet. "I
think we should at least try."
"You know what I think?" he asked.
"What?"
"I think time flies by way too fast."
She nodded and agreement.
"And the having another one thing? Know what I think about? About trying to have another one?"
She waited for him to continue.
"I think trying's the best part and there's no time like the present."
She smiled. "Spoken like a true man," she said.