This is a little more in the world were Jaime Jamsen came into the Dunbar's lives
By Sunlight… By Starlight… 'til Midnight
"A cup of coffee, a blueberry bagel and you," Jim practically sang as he brought the tray into the bedroom early Monday morning.
"You are a life saver," Christie's voice puffed as she hopped on one foot trying to tug her tight leather boot on without sitting down.
"Pep-o-mint or wild cherry," Jim waggled his eye brows as he listened to his wife struggle with her boot. "When are you getting home tonight?"
"I haven't the foggiest idea," Christie moaned as she zipped up the boot and reached for the other. "I go straight from the office to the Four Seasons to wine and dine the Proctor and Gamble people, advertising is our bread and butter, and then I meet Tyra and Twiggy for a head to head. If I offer a photo spread to the winner I could be a celebrity judge on America's Next Top Model."
"I can't wait to see you on television." A pillow whizzed past his head before Jim felt Christie punch his shoulder, "hey, at least I'd have the TV on. I seem to remember saying you were too beautiful not to be a model.
"That was when we were dating. I've gotten a lot older since then." Christie said through after she swallowed her coffee. "I wish I looked that good now."
"No," Jim found Christie, took the coffee from her hands and tucked his knuckles under her chin. "You are more beautiful now than you could have ever hoped to be then. What does not kill us makes us stronger… and more beautiful."
"Don't do this to me, I have to go to work and all I want to do is throw you on the bed and…"
"Christie! Jimmy!" reality in the high pitched squeak of Jaime Jansen poured cold water on the over heated couple. "I can't find my Sponge Bob shirt."
"I love my job, it's the perfect escape," Christie breathed as she sprinted out the door. "I'll find the shirt and get Jaime dressed and then I have to go."
"Yeah, go on, he's four years old… that means we only have another fourteen years of this to look forward to," he called after his wife as he gathered together the forgotten breakfast in bed. "I may not last that long, but I'll try."
As Jim put the dishes in the kitchen sink he heard Christie and Jaime in the other room.
"You can't wear that, it's dirty."
"Can't you wash it, please please please. It's my favourite."
"I don't have time. We'll put it in the dirty clothes hamper here and find
you a better shirt."
"But I want Sponge Bob."
"Jaime, it's dirty. Here, you can wear the super men today."
"They're X-Men. I want Sponge Bob."
"Today, you wear what I say and tomorrow you can wear a clean Sponge Bob.
Get that shirt on now."
Jim felt sorry for the little boy. He felt like this every time he got dressed for work. Even if he had put together his suit, shirt and tie the night before and Christie said it was good then, as soon as he tried to get ready for work she was pulling out different ties and socks. Sometimes he felt like giving up and pulling off all those funky little tags that the people at Lighthouse had had him sew into his clothes. Why bother reading the Braille markers when fashionista Christie was on a roll? Soon, Jaime would be wearing what Christie wanted and she would be out the door and gone.
"Christie," Jim called as he approached the door, "I'll finish up and you get outta here."
"Thank you, sweetie," with quick kisses to both Jim and Jaime she was gone.
Jim went into Jaime's new bedroom and tilted his head to the left, waiting for the boy to make a move when Hank nudged his hand forward. Reaching out, he found Jaime sitting on his bed in a silent sulk.
"Jaime, are you dressed?"
The only reply was a sullen grunt from the bed.
"Jaime," Jim sat down next to the boy. "You have to talk, I don't understand bear speak and you sound like a grumpy bear right now."
He homed in on the little snort Jaime let out.
"I have the next six weeks off, so we can have time to do things together, like laundry. I could wash your Sponge Bob shirt, if you want."
"Could ya, please," the little voice sounded hopeful. "I promise I'll be good, by sunlight, by starlight, 'til midnight."
"Wow, that's a big promise," Jim had never heard that phrase before.
"My Mommy promised that all the time" Sadness began to creep into the boy's voice, "it means all day, I guess." Jaime still didn't seem to understand that his parents had no power to come for him, that this ending wasn't their choice.
"I think it's a nice saying and I guess it means all day too." Jim reached out and pulled the boy close beside him and ruffled his hair. "How about we find all the dirty clothes and put them in the hamper."
Together, man and boy systematically checked the room for dirty clothes. Hank circled and nosed the pair as if they were playing a game that he wanted to be part of. Soon the bottom of the closet, under the bed and dresser and the entire floor was searched for the tiny bits and pieces Jaime wore. It all went into the hamper and waited to be cleaned.
"What are you wearing now?" Jim asked gently.
"Wolverine and Cyclops," Jaime ran his fingers down the front of his t-shirt, "'s clean."
"Yeah," Jim laughed, "sometimes I don't like what Christie wants me to wear either, but it's always clean. Come on, let's have some breakfast."
Jim called the laundry service to pick up Jaime's clothes and the rest of the laundry so it would done and back before the day was over.
Breakfast was quick. Coco Puffs had never dared haunt Christie's kitchen, but for the newest resident nothing was too good. Besides, Jim liked them too. Afterward Jaime went off to play while Jim did the dishes. From the kitchen Jim could hear the boy thumping around the living room.
"Jaime, What are you doing?"
Something dropped to the floor before the boy answered. "Nothin'."
"That doesn't sound like nothin'," Oh my God, Jim thought, I've turned into my mother. Turning to the coffee maker, Jim poured himself another cup and decided this would be a good time to make a few of the phone calls that needed to be made. He headed the dining table and the list of numbers to be called when Jim's toe hit something that went skittering across the floor and crashed into a wall.
"Jaime!"
"Didn't do it."
"I didn't even say you did anything," Jim was stopped in the middle of the floor. "What was that?"
The answer was almost inaudible, "my car."
"Is it the one you want me to fix?"
"Yeah."
Jim sighed and imagined himself in the middle of a mine field. "Are there any other toys on the floor?"
Jaime's voice was even smaller, "yeah."
"Well, you pick them up and put them in your room and I'll get my pliers and together we'll fix the broken car. Okay?"
"Yeah!"
God help me, I have to expand this kid's vocabulary, Jim thought as he turned round and went back to the kitchen and pulled the tool box out from under the sink.
"So, what do I do now?" Jaime called from his bedroom.
"You come over here and we fix your car," Jim put the tool box on the counter, "bring it over here."
"The broke one?"
Jim just shook his head as he gently corrected Jaime's grammar, "yes, the broken one." Jim listened to the thump bump gait that told him Jaime was retrieving the toy while he set the chest on the counter. Finally Jaime was beside him, tugging at Jim's shirt to be lifted up on one of the bar stools there.
"Wow," breathed the little boy as he reached into the tool chest and rattled its contents.
Jim's hand snaked out and grabbed Jaime's hand. "Don't touch; these are tools, not toys."
"But Daddy let me help."
Jim bit down the urge to say; thank God I'm not your Dad, when inspiration struck.
"How about, when we finish this job I show you all the tools and what they do. I promise you can help with the next project if you promise to be patient."
"Yeah, I promise," the smile on Jaime's face shone through his voice.
"Okay, Boss," Jim reached in and found his needle nosed pliers, "these are pliers. See how they open up like a mouth."
The tool dipped as Jaime put his fingers on the pliers, "it's got teeth."
"Yeah, it does," Jim smiled back and started the job, "and we take the car, turn it over, straighten the axle and it's fixed."
"What do we fix next?"
Oh god, Jim thought as his mind searched out something else to 'fix'. Casting his hand over the counter Jim found just the thing; Christie's cutting board. "Come on, now we'll fix this."
Soon the poor board was filed, sanded, gouged, nailed and its handle cut off. After all that Jim and Jaime carefully put all the tools back in their proper spots, dressed for the outdoors and went to the local hardware store to buy Christie a new cutting board.
"Do we gotta fix this one too?" Jaime said when they re-entered the condo.
"No, this one is okay for now. You go play in your room while I make some phone calls. Okay?"
The 'okay' and the sound of the cast and crutches told Jim that Jaime was doing as he'd been asked. He was a good, little boy and as Jim went to the table to start the calls he should have started that morning he was beginning to think that taking Jaime Jansen into his life wasn't such a bad thing.
Christie finally pushed open her front door at nine that night. The lights were low and the aroma of Ray's Famous pizza filled the place.
"Jimmy?"
"Shhhh…"
Tiptoeing into the living room she found Jaime curled in Jim's lap, fast asleep. Jim's hand was gently stroking the black curls that covered the boy's head.
"Wow, I didn't expect to find this," Christie said as she sat down and planted a kiss on Jim's brow. "How did your day go?"
"Well, we fixed the car you wanted to throw away and we learned all about tools and what they do. By the way, hope you like your new maple cutting board."
"What, that one was only two months old."
"Believe me, you couldn't use it anymore. We went to Petrillo's Hardware for a new one and Mickey Dee's for lunch and then we came home and played with trucks and balls, walked Hank and finally had supper. Jaime decided to wait for you to come home so he could tell you all about it." Jim leaned his head toward his wife, "I even found time to make all those phone calls. I think we have a paediatrician, a choice of day cares and our laundry is clean. Figured we'd take it easy on ourselves and get it done."
Christie slipped her arm around Jim's shoulder and snuggled close to him. "So it wasn't so bad, today, here with the kid."
"Nah, it was a pretty good day. I even learned something today. The biggest promise Jaime makes is by sunlight, by starlight, 'til midnight, and that is why we're here. I promised we wait for you to come home before big boy here went to bed."
"I like that promise. Give him to me and I'll put him straight to bed. If he wakes up he can tell me all about how the day went."
"You promise?"
"Yes," Christie said as she gathered Jaime into her arms, "I promise by sunlight, by…" she stumbled on the words.
"By sun light, by star light, 'til midnight, you have to promise again in the morning… you know… because of the midnight expiry date. This is for big promises only, okay."
"Okay," Christie shifted Jaime's weight in her arms as she looked down at her husband, "and only for you. I got that."
"You better; or Jaime and me; we'll fix this cutting board too."
fin