Blinded By Destiny

Chapter 11

Emery's POV

"Asher!" I called out for the millionth time that day. "What have I told you about running in the house?"

His sapphire eyes widened in thought. He paused from his sprint across the hardwood floors where he was chasing after his Hot Wheels. "Not to do it," he mumbled, rocking back on his heels from the reprimand with his hands behind his back.

The heat in my voice lowered to a simmer as I was overcome with gratitude just to see him feeling better. It was a relief to hear the pitter-patter of his tiny feet through the halls even if it signified his energy was returning with a vengeance.

"Exactly, because you could fall on the hardwood floors and get hurt." Or my worst fear, that he hits a sharp corner of a piece of furniture and cracks his skull. No one tells you when you become a parent that you will envision a million horrifying scenarios, ones unlikely to ever happen, but that will torment you day and night.

"I forget. I get too excited." He held up a blue race car like it was evidence for the cause of his excitement.

I stepped around the kitchen counter, dropping a spatula into the bowl of butter, flour, and sugar, and wiped my hands on the red-checkered apron tied at my waist. "I thought you were going to help me bake cookies."

Asher bent over as he broke into a fit of giggles. The sound of his laughter was jovial and full of innocence. It was the purest sound in the world. I lived for it every day.

"You so silly," he snorted between laughs. "I meant help you eat them." 

My cheeks lifted at the widening of my smile. I should have known. He always had an appetite for sweets and all things chocolate. A trait he absolutely, undoubtedly, one-hundred percent positively, most definitely inherited from me.

The sound of the front door unlatching echoed around the living room. "Kenny!" Asher sang as he sprang out of his pouting posture and took off toward the sound, completely oblivious again to the "no running in the house" rule.

I sighed and willed myself not to roll my eyes. Asher had copied my nasty habit and it made it hard to scold him when I did it repeatedly.

Leading by example was hard. Parenting was harder.

Kenny came wobbling into the kitchen with a giggling Asher wrapped around her leg, holding on for dear life. She was a champ, a real ride or die to have stuck with me and Asher this long. I remember those sleepless nights when he was first born, taking care of him and trying to finish school. Kenny would stay over some nights and take shifts with me, sharing the load.

It had been her idea after we graduated high school to live together. I had been planning on staying with my aunt but Kenny insisted, saying that she would be there every step of the way to help me raise my son. And she had. It was a debt I could never repay.

I watched her as she made grunting noises and playfully started grabbing at her back like an old woman, causing Asher to throw his head back in laughter.

Those two were something else but I'd be lost without either of them. They were my whole world. My throat tightened and I turned away from Kennedy and Asher as I became misty-eyed. This was another thing that no one mentions about parenting, how soft and sentimental you become. And let's not forget the physical need to cry at every little thing that makes your heart swell up with love.

I blinked my eyes quickly to clear the waterworks and tried to get a grip. I had loads of practice, especially after I had Asher. Every little thing had set me off like Niagara Falls.

Asher unraveled from around Kennedy's leg as he spied one of his toy cars against the leg of the stool, near the counter. He scooped it up, effectively distracted, and took it to join the others that lay in a pile across the living room floor.