Chapter 3

"You should eat something. Drinking on an empty stomach will mess up your stomach," I said.

Alysha waved me off. "Not hungry. Just tired."

I said, "I made some mushroom soup—"

"I said I'm not hungry," Alysha snapped, frowning at me. "Can't you hear?"

I stood in the entryway, still holding her coat.

"Alright, then get some rest," I said, trying to sound calm.

I hung up her coat, packed up the food from the table, and put it in the fridge.

I drank the mushroom soup myself later.

Alysha wasn't a bad person. She just never saw me as my own person.

No, that was not quite right. She did see me as her handyman.

I was the cook, the babysitter, the cleaner, the guy who paid the property fees, and the one who signed for every package.

I was useful for everything, but there was never a place for me in any of it.

When Felix was four, Alysha's mom, Darcie Slater, came to stay for a month.

Darcie was a real force to be reckoned with.

The first day she walked in, she saw me in the kitchen, chopping vegetables.

"Landon," she called out, drawing out my name with that scrutinizing, sing-song tone, her eyes giving me the once-over. "Alysha said you quit your job?"

"Yeah, I'm just staying home to look after Felix," I said.

"What kind of man doesn't work?" Darcie said, tossing her bag onto the couch. "Our family doesn't need you raising Felix. If I were twenty years younger, you wouldn't even be here."

I paused, the knife hovering in my hand.

I didn't say a word.

She kept going, "Don't think you're hard done by. Living in this house, spending my daughter's money. You're already getting more than you deserve."

That whole month, Darcie was on my case every single day.

"You made the food too salty."

"You didn't clean the floor properly."

"Felix is coughing again. Is this how you look after him?"

I put up with it.

Jonas gave his life for mine. I owed him.

If his wife or mother-in-law wanted to say something nasty, I could put up with it.

But there were some things I couldn't swallow.

When Felix turned five, he moved up to the senior class in kindergarten.

The teacher asked the kids to draw "My Family."

Felix came home and showed me his drawing.

There were three people in it. There was a tall mom, a little Felix, and a dad up in the sky.

His dad had a circle above his head, like an angel's halo.

I wasn't in the picture.

I pointed at the drawing and asked, "Felix, where am I?"

He tilted his head, thought for a moment, then drew a tiny figure in the corner.

"Who's that?" I asked.

"The babysitter," he said.

That stung. I couldn't help but grimace at that tiny stick figure labeled "babysitter."

"Felix, I'm not just the babysitter," I said.

"Mom says you're the one who takes care of us," Felix replied, dead serious. "Isn't that what a babysitter does?"

I gave the drawing back to him, trying to keep my voice steady. "Go wash your hands. It's time for dinner."

That night, when Alysha got home, I showed her the drawing.

"Did you tell Felix I'm just the babysitter?" I asked.

She was slipping on her slippers, not even bothering to look up. "When did I ever say that? Kids always make things up."

I said, "You told him I'm just the one who looks after you."

"Isn't that what you are?" Alysha finally glanced at me, her voice cool as ice. "You don't have a job, you don't make any money, all you do is cook and shuttle Felix around. Isn't that babysitter?"

I looked at Alysha.

She looked back at me, her face totally emotionless, like I was nothing but a wall or some furniture. I was another thing she could replace whenever she felt like it.

"Alright," I said.

I turned and walked back to the kitchen.

When Felix was five and a half, Alysha signed him up for a martial arts class.

The coach, George Watkins, was two years younger than me. He stood about six feet tall, with thick eyebrows and big eyes, and when he smiled, his teeth were blindingly white.

Felix adored him.

"Coach George is so cool!"

"Coach George praised me today!"

"Mom, Coach George said I can join the competition!"

Every time I dropped off or picked up Felix, George would chat with me for a bit.

After a while, I realized he didn't really care about Felix. He wanted to know more about Alysha.

"Is Felix's mom busy lately?"

"Felix's mom didn't look so good last time she picked him up. Is she alright?"

"Her name's really pretty."

I looked at that eager look on his face.

I really wanted to say, "Dude, just a heads-up. She has a husband. That's me. Although she treats me like I'm invisible, I'm still her legal husband."

I didn't say anything to him.

Not because I was being generous.

I just didn't want to embarrass myself.