Moving On - 41. Chapter 41

After the cursory greetings, hugs, and my dad repeatedly asking if I was sure he did not need to rent a car, we headed out to the car.

"You said you got a new car; I was half expecting you went all out and got a minivan," my dad teased.

"No way! Noah and I needed something bigger, but I'm gonna fight getting a soccer-mom car as long as I can."

"For the record, you and Ethan were both long done with soccer by the time I broke down for one," Mom said.

"Why did you end up getting one?"

"You and Ethan kept slamming the doors into things when you opened them. We got sick of dealing with it. Plus, it was easier loading things in and out of the sliding doors," Dad explained, before mouthing 'all her', and gesturing to my mom.

We loaded their luggage and started driving. I hadn't thought about the radio, and it was on its usual satellite radio station, uncensored pop. Every time a curse word came across the radio, Zach always giggled, and with my parents in the car it was no exception.

"Scott, I really don't think it's appropriate for Zach to be exposed to that kind of language. He'll come to think it's socially acceptable to use those types of words," my mom pointed out critically.

I sighed. If I had thought about it, I would have changed the station to avoid this.

"Zach?"

"Yeah, Papa?"

"Damn."

"No-no, Papa!" Zach said sternly. Unlike when the word was on the radio, there was no giggle.

"Shit."

"Papa, that's another one, stop."

"Scott what the hell are you doing?" my dad asked.

"That's a no-no word, too. You can't say them around me!"

"Fuck," I said. I was really trying to hammer my point home.

"Scott, that's enough!" mom said angrily.

"Imma tell Daddy when we get home. You said it wasn't tattling if you said three or more no-no words. Daddy's gonna clean your mouth out with soap, he told me so!"

I didn't know about the soap part, but I had teased him for tattling on me for my language shortly after he first came to live with me. I had not meant anything by it, but it was during the period where he was positive we would hit him if he misbehaved, and he had massively overreacted. Noah and I decided it wasn't 'tattling' if it was three or more times. It was an arbitrary number pulled out of thin air, and I never hit it before this.

"Thank you, Zachy. Can you tell your grandparents what no-no words are?"

"Sure! No-no words are words like damn, ass, shit, and fuck," he said matter-of-factly.

"Zach, you know better than to use those words," I said firmly, trying not to chuckle at his literal interpretation of my question.

"What? You asked me what no-no words are. Those are no-no words. I know more too, but Daddy and Tom said those were really bad. Do you wanna hear those too, so you know not to say them?"

"No, buddy, that won't be necessary. Can you tell your grandparents why they're no-no words?"

"Oh that's easy! They're words only adults can say, but they shouldn't say them a lot because they're not nice. Even grownups shouldn't say them around kids, and it's important to use words other than no-no words when you're upset because it's more constructful."

"Constructive." I corrected. "That's right; there are lots of other words you can use instead of no-no words when you're upset. They don't hurt people's feelings and they do a better job at telling us how you really feel. Any questions, Mom?"

She stammered a little, before asking, "Why did you giggle when they said a bad word on the radio if you're so quick to correct your father?" Ok, I'll admit my heart melted a little bit when she explicitly referred to me as Zach's father.

"Because he should know that little kids listen to the radio too, and we hear all the no-no words, which he shouldn't say in front of us. If I ever meet him, Imma give him a piece of my mind and he won't know what hit him." Zach said simply, which caused all three adults to laugh.

When we pulled up to the house, I asked Dad to take Zach inside but for Mom to stay out with me for a minute. I waited for the door to close before I said anything.

"Mom, I know I'm new at being a father, and we're both a little lax with Zach. You're just trying to be helpful, and I appreciate that, but please don't ever undermine my parental authority in front of Zach again. If you think I'm doing something wrong, come to me. I may not agree with you, but I promise to listen."

"I understand, hun, and I wasn't trying to undermine you. He does seem to really get the concept of profanities being wrong, but I don't understand why you are exposing him to those words in the first place."

"Part of that is deliberate. Remember how he spent the first four years of his life? His mother was a drug addict and prostitute, who shot up and had sex with him present. He had already been exposed to those words; he already knew how to use them correctly. He hated baths, and the first time I gave him one, he said words that would make a sailor blush, and I'm pretty sure at least one of the things he suggested I do to myself is physically impossible. We decided to focus on teaching him not to use those words, but there was no point in sheltering him from them. We both curse, so it's convenient we don't really have to watch our words around him. I'm not sure what's up with this soap thing, though. This was the first I heard about it."

"Well I think you're doing a fantastic job, sweetheart. It's not always easy, and you won't always make the right decisions. All you can do is try your best."

"And I'm sorry, Mom. Maybe I'm just a little paranoid that Zach will one day decide I'm not really his father and he doesn't have to listen to me."

"He'll stop listening whether he views you as his father or not. It's called being a teenager. Be glad you missed the diaper and sleepless-nights stage and enjoy the time before rebellion sets in."

"Hey, I wasn't that bad!" I protested.

"Not as bad as some of the horror stories I heard, but you were still quite a handful. Neither your dad nor I knew how to deal with you."

"Honestly, I barely knew how to deal with me either. We should probably head inside before someone mounts a search party."

Noah and Dad were sitting on the couch, drinking beers when Mom and I walked in, but being a good host, Noah immediately got on his feet to greet Mom.

"Fey, can I get you anything?"

While he fetched her a glass of tea, Mom and I sat down. It only took Zach a minute to stop playing on the floor and sit between his grandparents.

"Did you have a good time at Disney World," Dad asked him, conveniently forgetting that Zach wouldn't stop talking about it every time he spoke with them on the phone.

"I heard you wrote a book about it. I'd like to see it!" Mom said excitedly.

"Ok!" Zach exclaimed, jumping off the couch to grab it.

Terry had really been working with him on his reading skills, and we had started reading stories to him at night. The improvement really showed, and Zach slowly read his scrapbook out loud to my parents, only struggling a few times each page.

When he was finished, mom got a wicked smile on her face. "I've got a surprise for you and your papa," she said, getting off the couch and grabbing her carry-on bag.

"When Papa was your age, we went on a long trip in the car. When we got back, I helped him make a scrapbook just like yours."

"Don't be silly, Gammy, Papa was never my age!"

"Well this was a long, long time ago," Dad added helpfully.

"Not that long ago," I grumbled under my breath.

"Anyway, do you want to see it, Zach?"

"Ok."

"Noah, come over here so you can see, too."

Slowly Zach read the book out loud. We all got a kick out of the drawings and decorations that were included, and the parallels between my description of favorite rides at Opryland and Zach's at Disney World were eerie.

When Zach read "We stopped next to a golf course and Daddy taught me how to play. We really did," Mom cut in.

"I don't remember that at all."

"I do, but I understand what actually happened now that I'm an adult. I was being a pain in the butt in the car, and Dad had had enough. He pulled over and described how golfers needed silence to concentrate. My guess is it was just a ploy to get me to shut up. I'm guessing the 'we really did' comes from you not remembering it when I told you what to write. I don't know why that has stuck with me, but it did. Zach and I had a few of those where I didn't remember things the same way he did."

"Oh, Daddy, Papa said three no-no words in the car. That means you hafta wash his mouth out!"

"Did he now? Let me talk to him in private first, then we'll see what happens."

Noah and I walked back to the bedroom. As soon as he shut the door, he said, "I'm sorry babe. After you established that it wasn't tattling if it happened three times, Zach asked me what the punishment should be. I wasn't thinking, and suggested washing our mouths out. It slipped my mind to tell you, and it's not like you curse that much in front of him."

"It's fine, I just wasn't expecting it. A little notice from either if you would've been helpful before I tried to make a point to my mother," I told him.

"We could go back out and tell him we did it already if you want. He won't know any better."

"I know he won't, but maybe there's a lesson in it for him. If I accept my punishment with no complaints, maybe he'll do the same in the future. It probably won't work, but we can hope."

Noah called Zach back to our bedroom, and the three of us went into the bathroom. I sat on the toilet and Noah made sure Zach could see before beginning. It was nasty tasting, but not nearly as bad as I pretended it was, really hamming it up for Zach. Noah played it cool, and treated it the same way we acted whenever we punished Zach. He calmly reminded me a few times I had broken the rules, so he had to administer the predetermined punishment.

Zach's eyes went wide with surprise at first, and then fear as I struggled and complained about the taste. When Noah finished, Zach immediately launched onto my lap, hugging me as he began to cry.

"I sowwy I got you in twouble," he got out between sobs. I rubbed his back and cooed in his ear until he began to calm down. I had him sit on the counter while I brushed my teeth to get the taste of soap out of my mouth.

"You didn't get me in trouble, Zachy," I told him when I was done. "We agreed you could tell Dad if I used three no-no words, and I did. From here on, I'm going to do my best to not use any of those around you again, so I don't get in trouble. How does that sound?"

"But he put soap in your mouth and it was icky! If I didn't tell him, Daddy wouldn't do that to you," Zach whimpered, fresh tears beginning to form.

"You did the right thing, even though I got in trouble for it. I'm very proud of you," I told him, wrapping my arms around the boy and kissing his hair.

I carried him out to the living room, and tried to get him to play while I started dinner. Instead he insisted on helping me, although he was more in the way than anything. That night in bed, Noah asked me about it.

"I hope that wasn't too bad. I couldn't tell if you were in hell or if you were playing it up for Zach."

"Don't get me wrong, it was disgusting, but it wasn't the worst thing I've ever tasted. I think I went too far, though, since Zach wouldn't leave me alone for the rest of the night."

"It was really cute though. You can tell he loves you."

Mom adored Zach's Halloween costume, even if he had to explain what he was supposed to be. It didn't help that on one occasion, I jokingly referred to him as 'Princess Spider Pan', a name he immediately latched onto. On Halloween, I convinced them to hold down the fort while Noah and I took Zach trick or treating. Since my street never had a lot of kids, we decided to take him to Tom's neighborhood.

For the first several houses, Zach was shy. One of us would have to ring the bell and prompt him to speak, which came out quiet as he mumbled the words. After a few times, the realization that he got candy for saying 'trick or treat', he began happily running up to each house as we waited in the sidewalk.

"We have to remember to go through his candy before he eats it," Noah said while we waited at one house. "I saw this thing on the news about how some people might poison candy and showed what to watch out for. Things sure have changed since we were kids."

"No they haven't. My parents always went through mine. The messed up part of it is the only recorded instances of kids being poisoned from their candy are from family members. I think it's a ploy to justify parents stealing candy from their children. Don't get me wrong, I intend to find several Snickers bars that look suspicious."

"In that case, snag me a few Tootsie Rolls," Noah said with a laugh.

"Yuck, you're more than welcome to those."

When we got to Tom's house, we joined Zach at the door.

"Well who do we have here?" Tom asked as he opened the door.

"It's me, Unca Tom! Don't you recognize me?"

The three of us were taken back a bit by that; we had never used 'uncle' when referring to Tom. When he had first come to live with me, we stayed informal, and had never felt the need to correct him when the situation became more permanent.

"Zach? Is that you? I barely recognized you! What a great costume," Tom said playing along.

"Of course it's me, now trick or treat!" Zach said excitedly, before poorly whispering to him, "That means you hafta give me candy!"

"Oh, well if I have to, then I guess I better give you some," Tom said, putting several handfuls of candy in Zach's already-overflowing plastic pumpkin.

"Have fun tonight," he added, and I was positive it was more addressed to Noah and me, since we all knew the moment we got home, we would have a sugar-high five-year-old bouncing off the walls.

We knocked on a few more doors before calling it a night. Zach only hit a couple streets, but I was surprised by his haul; in my neighborhood growing up, I was lucky to get more than one piece of candy, but nearly every house had given Zach a large handful.

When we got home, we poured Zach's candy out on the floor and started going through it. Zach got some practice counting and sorting while Noah and I 'investigated' each piece carefully. To be fair, there were a few partially opened pieces we discarded, but for the most part we were merely helping ourselves.

Part way through, my dad joined in, and explained we we're doing it all wrong. His stringent analysis of Zach's candy resulted in our stash being larger than the boy's. Noah and I realized we were stealing Zach's candy and were beginning to feel a bit guilty, so after Dad finished 'helping', I casually slid a decent amount of it back to his pile. Noah and I tried to limit how much candy he ate that night, but every time we looked his way, Zach was opening a new piece. I couldn't prove it, but I was fairly certain it was all my parents doing.

November first, mere hours after finishing celebrating Halloween, Mom began asking for Christmas lists from the three of us. Mom always complained I was hard to shop for, since I would simply go out and buy anything I needed. Zach didn't really grasp the idea of Christmas, but kids are easy to shop for. Noah had exchanged a gift with Will for the past couple years, but otherwise, he had only bought things for Zach – most of which he was certain Willow had returned for cash to support her habits. I promised to email my parents a list once we had a chance to think about it.

Before I knew it, the time had come to begin baking like a madman, since I had offered to bring dessert to the O'Neil's – well, technically to Tom's house, but even though it was at his home, Lydia was definitely the one in charge.

As expected, there was far more food than the six of us could ever hope to consume in a week, let alone a single meal. I found it strange that I seemed to get along with them better than I had in all the years I was with Steve, but I was glad we had managed to reconnect. Zach loved having a large extended family, and Noah was glad to no longer feel completely on his own, as he had felt since the death of his parents.

"Christmas is going to involve just as much food as Thanksgiving, isn't it?" Noah asked after we got back home from dinner.

"Probably more, once you take into account all the cookies," I responded.

"That's it; we're going on a diet. Between now and Christmas we need to eat healthier."

"Awww, but I'm already getting into the best shape I've ever been!" That wasn't a lie; in the three months we'd had gym equipment, we worked out nearly every day. My stomach was as flat as it had been before, and while I weighed a few pounds more than before my eating binge, Noah assured me it was all muscle.

"I don't mean we can only eat celery and drink water, but we just need to be more careful. Zach looks like he's gaining weight, and I can't tell if he's about to have a growth spurt or getting chubby."

"Ok, fine, but I can still sample the Christmas cookies, right? Someone once told me if you break them in half, all the calories fall out."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," he responded with a chuckle. "Are we really getting up at two am?"

"Yeah, and it was your suggestion to go shopping with Lydia."

"I don't know what the hell I was thinking. It's not like we need anything from the Black Friday sales. I've never done it, though, and it seemed like a good idea at the time."

"Actually, I had an idea. Steve and I never watched much TV, so we were always fine with the old television and a basic DVD player; it did the job and satisfied us. You and I seem to watch more TV, especially after Zach has gone to bed, and we usually have at least one movie night a week. I was thinking we could get a new flat screen, surround sound system, blu-ray player, and all that."

"That sounds like a great idea! Neither of us has been able to figure out what to get the other for Christmas, so maybe this can kinda be our gift to ourselves. Maybe we can even get Zach that new Nintendo system. You know, that Wii thing?"

"You make fun of my age, but you are so far removed from reality that you sound worse than my parents, babe. It's been out for several years now."

"Yeah, but I think they have a new one, but that might be geared more towards college kids."

"That'd be the WiiU, and it's just the name of the new system. We can look at some of the games. If it looks like there are some decent games for Zach, I think it's a great idea." I didn't tell Noah, but I had a few other gift ideas for him.

Having never partaken in Black Friday in Atlanta, I wasn't quite prepared for the craziness as we pulled up to the first store. I mean, I had expected crazy, but this was just pure insanity. Still, we managed to find Christmas gifts for nearly everyone in a marathon shopping spree around the city. We also had gotten phenomenal deals on everything we needed for a high-end entertainment system. All told, we got everything for about half of what we would have paid any other day. Even I could put up with the jostling and crowds for that. We agreed there was no sense in waiting a month to enjoy the new purchases, so once we returned home, Noah and I began setting everything up before our adrenaline wore off. That evening, while watching the fish movie for the umpteenth time, Noah and I fell asleep while Zach was joyously watching his favorite movie on the new giant screen.