Chapter 3
Peter was very knowledgeable in the ways of the play area. He led Stephen over to a series of purple plastic cubbies and immediately dropped to the ground.
“No shoos,” he told Stephen with a serious scowl and then began the tedious work of getting his own slip shoes off his feet.
“Do you want some help?”
“No, I do!”
“You’re quite the independent little man, aren’t you?”
“Yeah…”
Once the second shoe was off, Peter shoved the pair into a random cubby and toddled over to the stairs.
“Go up!” He declared as he got down on his hands and knees and began crawling up an incline lined with padded bumps. Stephen found himself doing what he observed the previous caregivers doing; following alongside Peter from the opposite side of the netting.
“Wow, you’re really good at that.”
“Yeah!” Peter laughed, “Go see!” He then climbed inside a yellow box with a fish-eye window that had seen better days. Despite it being scratched and cloudy, Peter sat and waved to Stephen through the transparent plastic bubble. A toothy smile was spread across his face.
“Hello,” Stephen waved back, causing the Little to squeal with delight.
“Stee-ben! Go down!” Peter was now crawling across the vinyl bridge that led to the slide.
“Okay, slide time,” Stephen said before turning back to the glass partition that separated the restaurant from the play area. Tony had found a table with a highchair for Peter and was now smoothing out the edges of a sticky placemat. It amazed Stephen to think that Tony would normally have to prep for Peter’s meal and somehow keep his Little entertained. There was no denying that Tony’s heart was big enough to love Peter through the many trials of caregiverhood, but it must have been exhausting. Day in and day out, all the feedings and diapers and playtime. There was no one else to go to Peter’s nursery in the night when he had a bad dream, no one else to help clean up toys or get a fussy Little dressed for school.
No one to watch Peter play in the ball pit while he made sure he put out the right sippy cup.
It was all Tony.
“Stee-ben!” Peter’s frustrated cry caught Stephen’s attention.
“What, what? What’s wrong?” He asked, hurrying over to the slide. Peter was sitting atop with his legs out, ready for his big, dramatic drop. “Are you gonna slide now?”
“Yeah! See me! I go!”
It took all of ten seconds for Peter to travel down the slide, but he laughed and screeched as if it was the most brilliant ten seconds of his life.
And Stephen had to laugh too.
“Go ‘gain!” Peter clumsily got to his feet and attempted to wade through the knee-deep pool of balls. “Stee-ben, go ‘gain!”
“Sure, yeah,” Stephen put out a hand for Peter to take, “come here, let me help.”
Peter continued to struggle, occasionally falling backwards, and having to roll himself back up. But he did not seem to mind; each fall came with a laugh and a charming ‘Uh-oh!’ that made Stephen smile.
“Are you being funny?” He had to ask, “Because I think you’re being funny!”
“No,” Peter laughed, finally grabbing ahold of Stephen’s hand. “Uh…oh…”
“Are you going to fall?” Stephen stepped forward in case he needed to catch the Little, but Peter had completely frozen. “Did…did you hurt yourself? Peter?”
Tears welled up in Peter’s eyes; his bottom lip began to tremble.
“Um, are you hungry?”
“Stee-ben…Dah-dee…”
Stephen was not sure how he knew, but he quickly blurted, “Are you wet?” And Peter began to wail.
“Okay, it’s okay,” Stephen began to look around in a panic,, “we’re going to go find your daddy, okay?”
“…Dah-dee…,” Peter hiccupped.
“Yeah, let’s get you to daddy,” Stephen began to guide Peter out of the play area.
“Peter!” Tony had his arms open the moment his sniffling baby came running up to him, “Are you okay?”
“I think he needs a change,” Stephen said when Peter did not answer.
“Yeah, last time I checked him was before we left…the school…,” Tony’s words slowed as confusion crept over his face, “um…where are his shoes?”
“His shoes?” Stephen repeated. Shoes? What are shoes? “Oh, his shoes! Yeah…,” he looked back at the play area, “I think they’re still...in the cubby…sorry.”
“It’s okay, I’ll grab them,” said Tony, “mind sitting here and waiting for the food? Our ticket’s on the table.”
“Yeah, I can do that,” though Stephen did have some doubt. How did you forget to grab the kid’s shoes?
Tony went back to the play area, all while assuring the whimpering Peter that he would get him changed and then they could have some dinner.
When the food was called, Stephen was quick to run over and pile the tray with extra napkins and ketchup packets and whatever dipping sauces the cashier had available. He felt obligated to atone for the missing shoes with a complete selection of every condiment McDonalds had to offer.
“Perfect timing,” Tony and Peter returned just as Stephen placed the tray on the table, “oooh, and someone grabbed me some sweet and sour sauce!”
“Probably,” Stephen smiled before turning to Peter, “feeling better?”
Peter nodded with a peppy, “Tank-oo!”
“You’re welcome.”
Tony helped Peter get settled into his seat while Stephen set out everyone’s food.
“And last but not least…” he placed the big red Happy Meal box on Peter’s mat.
“Yeah!” Peter began to wiggle with anticipation.
“Not before we clean our hands,” Tony whipped out a travel size bottle of hand sanitizer from the diaper bag and put a dollop in each of Peter’s palms. “And what do we do?” Peter began to vigorously rub his hands together. “Very good!”
“Can I have some of that?” Stephen asked.
“Sure,” Tony squeezed a bit into his palm.
“Stee-ben! See!” Peter demonstrated his hand rubbing prowess.
“Oh, thank you,” Stephen did as he was shown, “is this right?”
“Yeah!” Peter nodded, “All c’lean!”
“All clean.”
“Now, let’s get this off,” Tony pulled the frog sweater up over Peter’s head, mussing his adorable brown curls, “and get you a bib.”
Stephen couldn’t help but laugh when Tony put a full food shield on the boy. The plastic bib was as wide as Peter’s shoulders and went all the way down to his lap. A large pocket sat at the bottom to catch any fallen bits of food. Of course, it had an adorable pattern of smiling avocados on it.
“Okay,” Tony let out a long sigh as he nearly collapsed into his seat, “I think we’re finally ready to eat!” But instead of digging into his own meal, Tony began removing Peter’s food from the Happy Meal box. He even squeezed out a tiny red puddle of ketchup in the corner of the mat.
“Toy?” Peter asked as he picked up the first fry and dipped it gingerly into the ketchup.
“Oh, right,” Tony fished around in the box and pulled out a…
“What is that?” Stephen asked.
“Yes, finally!” Tony gleefully unwrapped the plastic. “Look baby; it’s the Toad Kart!”
“Toy!”
“Toad Kart?” Stephen felt so lost, “I don’t understand, is that from something?”
“It’s from the new Mario movie that’s coming out,” said Tony, “we’ve gotten all the toys but this one. I think Peter has like ten Luigis at home!”
“That sounds so weird out of context.”
“Don’t be gross, Stephen.”
“Do’t be goss, Stee-ben!” Peter laughed.
The meal was…nice.
As much as he hated to admit it, Stephen enjoyed his cheeseburger and fries. And the diet soda was enough to assuage his guilt for indulging in so many calories in one sitting.
Peter continued to be playful; stealing fries from his daddy’s tray, despite having plenty of his own. Tony had only allowed him water, as juice was too sugary and would keep him up all night. But that did not keep the Little from periodically asking for some.
“Appah joose?”
“No, Peter,” Tony would tell him with a smile, “but when we get home, you can have some milk before bed.” This would work…for all of five minutes…
“Dah-dee?”
“Yes?”
“Appah joose?”
Eventually, Peter gave up and asked for his tablet instead. Tony put on whatever the Bluey show was, and Peter calmly watched it while slowly picking away at his cheeseburger.
Which gave Tony and Stephen time to just talk.
“Any big plans for the holidays?”
“I don’t know,” Tony said, “last year was our first together so I did all the traditional things; the tree, the stockings, the mall S-A-N-T-A.” He then sighed and smiled, as if briefly reminiscing about the special memories he and Peter certainly made together. “This year though, I want to do something different. Maybe go away somewhere; get out of the city.”
“Where to?”
“I was just going to rent a cabin upstate. I think Peter would like to play in snow that isn’t grey and full of cigarette butts.”
“That sounds nice.”
Tony looked away for a moment, shaking his drink around as if trying to melt the ice.
“You…can come with, if you want,” he then said quietly, still not making eye contact with Stephen, “I don’t know if you have family or…”
“Not really,” Stephen said flatly, “and by Christmas time, my job mostly consists of insurance paperwork.”
“That sucks.”
“It really does.”
Just like he had that day at Metro, when Tony first brought up Stephen meeting Peter, the doctor reached across the table and placed his hand on Tony’s.
“As long as there’s half-decent WiFi at the cabin…we should be good.”
Tony’s eyes lit up like stars.
“Are you going to cut down a tree for us?” He then asked in a sly tone.
“You know I regularly use a bone saw on my patient’s skulls, right?”
Both men laughed.
Stephen squeezed Tony’s hand.
Peter let out a dramatic yawn.
“Someone ready to go home?” Tony pulled his hand away from Stephen’s; his attention now focused his boy, “Ready for night-night?”
“Nigh-nigh…” Peter cooed.
“Well, I still need to get this guy a bath so,” Tony sighed, “guess we should call it a night?”
Stephen was struck with a sharp pain in his chest. The night suddenly seemed too short; the pageant only ten, maybe twenty minutes ago! He was not ready to go back alone to his penthouse…his empty penthouse…not yet…
“Oh,” was the only word he managed to articulate.
“Yeah, and Peter and I have got a ton of errands to run tomorrow, so I need someone to be really well rested.”
“Dah-dee,” Peter put his arms up in clear indication that he was ready to go.
“We’re just having such a nice meal,” Stephen heard himself say, “I mean…what time is it?”
“It’s already eight-thirty,” Tony said, not even looking up as he undid the straps on the highchair.
“Oh,” again, Stephen did not know what to say. So, he just sat in silence as he watched Tony clean Peter’s face and get his back sweater on and pack up the diaper bag.
“Stee-ben,” Peter whispered as he reached out to the crestfallen doctor, “Stee-ben, nigh-nigh?”
“No, sweet pea; Stephen has to go home,” Tony said in his sing-song voice.
“Stee-ben,” Peter tried again, “Stee-ben, go home; go play…”
“Peter…”
“I mean, I don’t mind offering another hand,” Stephen said quickly, maybe too quickly. “I don’t have any plans for the rest of the even-”
“Stephen, seriously,” Tony laughed as he hefted the diaper bag over his shoulder, “you’ve been amazing tonight. Thank you, I do appreciate it, but I got Peter from here on out. I am his dad, after all.”
“I know…,” Stephen whispered, “but…maybe…”
Words suddenly felt impossible. Stephen knew what he wanted to say: I want to come with you. I’m not ready for this night to end. Being with you and Peter…it feels so nice.
“Stephen?” Tony’s worried voice brought Stephen back to his senses. “You were saying something?”
Stephen drew a deep breath through his nose.
“I want to come with you. I really like being with you and Peter and everything’s going so well,” he paused, slightly thrown by Tony’s stunned expression, “why not keep it going?”
“You want to come home with me? With us?” Tony glanced over to a sleepy Peter rubbing his eyes.
“If it’s okay…yeah?”
“Stee-ben?” Peter mumbled again, “Stee-ben nigh-nigh…”
“I guess,” Tony stopped to consider the proposal, “I mean, the housekeeper doesn’t come until Monday, so if you don’t mind a mess…”
“I don’t mind at all.”
Tony smiled.
“Okay, let’s keep it going.”