Boomerangers: A second chance romantic comedy (Cajun Girls Book 1)
Boomerangers: Chapter 15

Beep.

“Cooper, you have a call on line one,” my secretary’s, nasally voice blares through the intercom.

“I’m really busy right now, Jill. Can you take a message?” I’m actually on pace to finish up early today, and the last thing I need is to get caught up on the phone. I’ve stayed late all week, and I’m really hoping to catch up with Spence and possibly even fool around a bit this evening.

“It’s a daycare . . .” she says nervously. “They said they’ve been trying to reach Kyle’s mother and can’t get ahold of her.”

“I’ll take it.” I jab the button for line one, lifting the receiver to my ear. “Hello?”

“Hi, Mr. Hebert . . . We hate to bother you at work, but we’ve called Ms. LeBlanc and her mother’s phones. They aren’t answering. We really need someone to come and pick up Kyle.”

“What about Gina?”

An annoyed sigh comes through the phone. “She didn’t answer, either.”

Shit. “Is he sick?”

“No, sir. He’s . . . suspended.”

“Suspended!” I shout. Since when do toddlers get suspended from preschool?

“Yes, sir.”

“What the hell could he have . . . No, you know what? I’m on my way.” What the hell kind of place did Spencer leave her kid at?

Slamming the phone down, I begin shoving files into my briefcase like a madman. As I storm out of my office, I pause at Jill’s desk to inform her that I’ll be out for the remainder of the day and then poke my head into my father’s office, wrapping my knuckles on the doorframe to get his attention.

Dad peers up over his glasses, which are sitting low on his nose without raising his head. “Yeah, son?”

“I’m leaving for the day. I just got a call from Kyle’s daycare . . . They need me to go and get him.”

Dad’s forehead crinkles with concern and he removes his glasses, setting them on top of the stack of papers he’s been working on. “Is he okay?”

“Suspended.”

His jaw drops. “What?”

“Yeah, I don’t know what the hell is going on over there, but they can’t get in touch with anyone else, so I’m going to pick him up.”

“Do you even have a car seat?” Dad asks.

My face falls. Damn it. I hadn’t even thought of that. I guess when Spence asked if she could add me to his list of contacts that I should’ve gotten one just in case. But, I never thought I’d actually have to go get him.

“I keep one for my grandson in my car, Cooper,” Jill offers, walking up behind me. “Come on.” She waves her arm, brushing past me toward the door. “You can give it back tomorrow. I’ll go install it in your truck right quick.”

By the time I pull up to the red building designed to model an old schoolhouse, my blood is boiling. And when I walk inside to find Kyle on a chair in the front office crying, I’m ready to make some fucking heads roll.

“What’s wrong with him?” I ask, walking over to where he’s seated.

At the sound of my voice, his face turns in my direction. My chest squeezes when I see the relief in his little face the moment he recognizes me. Kyle’s brown eyes are bloodshot. His lips quivering. “M-my m-man h-h-here,” he snivels.

Fuckin’ right, his man’s here.

“I’m sorry, sir,” the secretary says, stepping in front of Kyle. “We need to see your ID before you can touch him.”

“Are you shitting me right now?”

She clears her throat loudly. “No, sir. I assure you I am not, and I would appreciate it greatly if you would not speak that way. That language is highly inappropriate.” Her eyes dart around the room, reminding me of where I am.

Whoops. “Sorry,” I say, and I mean it. I usually conduct myself in a more professional manner, but seeing Kyle this upset has me all out of sorts. “Clearly, he knows me.”

“Your identification, please?” she asks once more, holding her hand out palm up.

Pulling my wallet from my inside coat pocket, I dig out my license. Every second that Kyle is reaching for me and I can’t comfort him pisses me off more.

The tiny blonde bouncer studies it for a ridiculous amount of time before finally nodding and removing herself from between us.

Kyle practically leaps into my arms. “I miss you, Pooper.”

I wipe away his tears and smile. “I missed you, too, little dude. What happened?”

“I in shrouble, Pooper. Wady not nice!” He looks over at her with some pretty impressive mean eyes.

I turn my head to face the woman in question. “Sir, Kyle bit another student today. We have to take these things very seriously, as I’m sure you understand.”

“What did the other kid do to him?” I ask, automatically wanting to defend him.

“Well, sir . . . I don’t know that he did anything, but that’s irrelevant. Kyle left teeth marks on another student.”

“It’s not irrelevant, ma’am. Kyle wouldn’t bite someone for no reason. He’s a good kid.”

I can practically hear the snort she’s fighting to contain. I have never wanted to hit a woman, but I’d really like to smack that smug look off of her face right about now.

Who am I and when did I become so attached to the enemy?

“This isn’t his first offense, Mr. Hebert. Kyle’s mother has been warned about his colorful language. He’s had quite a few warnings, and this is something we can’t just ignore.”

“With all due respect, Ms.—” I glance at her name tag, finding it odd that there’s actually someone in this town that I don’t know “—Ashley. No one is asking you to ignore anything. I’m simply asking if you’ve investigated the matter to determine what caused Kyle to feel the need to defend himself.”

“Mr. Hebert, no matter the cause, biting is an automatic three day suspension.”

I can see that I’m not getting anywhere with her. “Kyle, why did you bite?” I ask, using my finger to tilt his face up to mine.

“I bad, Pooper.” His bottom lip pokes out.

Hell if my heart doesn’t squeeze at the sight of his pitiful face. “You aren’t bad,” I assure him before clearing my throat. “Why’d you bite that boy? You can tell me. I promise that I won’t get mad.”

“Him not gettin’ off me. Boy sittin’ on me. Him hit me wif a shruck on my head!” Tears drip from his big brown eyes as he reaches up to the spot that is obviously still hurting him.

I feel his head where he’s rubbing, and there’s a huge knot. “So, you’re telling me that this big ass knot on the back of this baby’s head is irrelevant?”

Ashley’s face turns white and she starts sputtering. “Well, I . . . uh.” She walks over to inspect Kyle’s injury and visibly blanches. Ashley straightens her face quickly, trying to recover, but she is noticeably flustered. “We didn’t realize he’d been hurt. He-he didn’t tell us.”

I shake my head and laugh. “Are you seriously blaming a two-year-old for the fact that you didn’t do your job?”

Red splotches appear on her cheeks and quickly spread to her chest. “Mr. Hebert, I assure you that we will have a talk with the other child and his parents. But, even still, that doesn’t change the fact that Kyle has to be suspended for biting. It’s policy . . .”

“You can tear up that paperwork,” I add, pointing to the clipboard clutched beneath her arm. “We won’t be signing it . . .” Her mouth opens, but no sound comes out. “As a matter of fact, go ahead and get me all of his things. Kyle won’t be returning.”

“Mr. Hebert, you can’t withdraw someone else’s child from daycare.”

Watch me. “His things?”

Ashley scurries off, gathering Savage’s belongings, returning with three bags full of stuff. “Have Spencer come by and let us know what she wants to do about his enrollment. She has to give at least a thirty days’ notice if she wants to withdraw him.”

“How about you waive that thirty day notice and I’ll consider not pressing charges on this negligent establishment?”

“That won’t be necessary, sir. We will be happy to waive the thirty day notice if Ms. LeBlanc does, in fact, advise us that she wishes to withdraw her child.”

The way she says “her child” reminds me of the fact that Kyle belongs to another man and my fucking woman, and it pisses me off even more. Shifting Kyle into one arm, I grab his bags, storm through the building, and then back out to the parking lot.

“I sowwy, Pooper.” I feel Kyle’s hand cup my clenched jaw and instantly deflate. The fearful look on his face makes me feel like a complete asshole.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Kyle. I’m not mad,” I assure him as I unlock the truck and toss his bags inside.

“I ridin’ in your shruck?”

“Sure are, buddy. Hop up in your seat so we can blow this joint.”

Before leaving the parking lot, I try Spencer’s number again to let her know I’ve picked up Kyle, but it goes straight to voicemail. “Hey, Spence, it’s—”

“Hi, Mommy!” Kyle shouts from behind me, causing me to laugh into the phone.

“Yeah, so I have Kyle. The daycare couldn’t get in touch with you and he needed to be picked up. I’ll fill you in on the details later . . . just wanted to let you know he’s with me and we’re gonna go have some guy time before heading home. Don’t worry, I’ve got this.” I think . . . “Tell Mommy bye, Kyle.”

“Bye, Mommy!”

“All right, Savage . . . let’s go have some fun.”

I decide to take him to The Cool Spot for snowballs. Spence and I spent many hot summer days slurping down flavored ice on the picnic tables by the lake. It’s winter now, but the place is open year-round, and I’m feeling the urge to share that connection with Kyle. He chooses blue bubblegum with ice cream in the middle and gummy bears on top. I get a very boring in comparison but delicious cherry.

“Dis nummy, Pooper,” Savage says with blue syrup dripping from his chin.

“Are you actually getting any of that into your mouth?” I ask, wondering how the hell I’m going to get this sticky mess of a kid back into my truck. Maybe snowballs weren’t my greatest idea.

“Uh oh . . .” Kyle’s eyes get big and his forehead creases.

I do not like the sound of that uh oh. “What’s wrong?”

“I shit myself, Pooper.”

I choke, spitting red snowball down the front of my white oxford. “Kyle, you can’t say that word.”

“I sowwy . . . I need a biper shange.”

Son of a . . . I have never changed a diaper in my life. “Please tell me you are joking,” I beg.

A shit-eating grin spreads across his blue face. “I for real, Pooper.”

We toss the remainder of our snacks into the trashcan and head toward the parking lot. I’m practically sweating over the mess I’ve gotten myself into. When we arrive at my truck, I place Kyle in the truck bed so that I can safely dig around in his bags for some wet wipes and a diaper and praise God there is a change of clean clothes.

“Okay, Savage . . . you’re gonna have to help Cooper out here. I’ve never changed a diaper before.”

Kyle’s eyes get big. “I never shange a biper before, eider.” His little shoulders lift and fall in a shrug.

“Come here,” I tell him, waving him over while laughing at the little smart ass. He’s so advanced. I feel myself swelling with pride, as if I had anything to do with it.

I feel like an idiot when he’s standing before me, and I can’t decide where to start. He is sticky from head to toe, and judging by the smell, he’s packing a pretty nasty mess in his Pamper. I actually glance around, spotting a hose, before realizing that it’s barely sixty degrees out and I can’t spray the kid down.

I decide starting with the top and working my way down to be the best course of action. “Stand still,” I say to Kyle as I try to scrub the blue from his lips, cheeks, and chin.

“Dat hurts!” His head is swerving around while he tries to dodge the wet wipes.

“It does not hurt. Keep still.”

Once I’ve cleaned his face, I begin working on his neck and arms. By the time I’ve gotten his hands cleaned, I’ve used most of the package of wet wipes. “Hopefully, the shit comes off easier than the syrup or we’ll be in a heap of trouble.”

“You say dat bad word, Pooper.”

Crap. I didn’t mean to say that out loud. “I’m sorry, Kyle . . . Don’t tell Mommy, okay? It can be our little secret.” He smirks. This kid is so ratting me out. “Lift up your arms for me, bud.” I swap out his shirt quickly, so he doesn’t get too cold, and am back at a standstill. “All right . . . now what do we do?”

“You gotta wipe my butt, Pooper.” He spreads out his own blanket, lying down on top of it with his feet toward me. The little turd even lifts his own legs into the air.

“Kyle, you are too big to be pooping on yourself. You need to start using the toilet.”

He shakes his head. “Tah-tye in the toiwette.”

“There is no monster in the toilet.” I remove his shoes and pants then discover that greenish yellow mush is coming out of the back and sides of his diaper. I gag. It’s all over the inside of his pants. I set them off to the other side of the tailgate and begin wiping at the shit on his legs with the wet wipes and tossing them over on top of the pants. The mountain of poop covered wipes keeps growing as the bag of clean ones is damned near empty, and we haven’t even gotten to what’s inside of the diaper yet.

“I freezin’,” Kyle stammers. The poor little guy is shaking. I finally work up the nerve to unfasten his diaper, and when I pull it open, I can’t . . . I just . . . can’t. I lean over to the side and puke until tears stream from my eyes. I have never felt more helpless in my life. Brought down by a dirty diaper.

Suddenly, I feel a little hand on my back and a voice that I have become very familiar with coos, “Aw, you sick, Pooper?” No . . . I turn my head to find that Kyle has gotten up. His diaper is upside down and poop is smeared from one end of the truck bed to the other.

Fuck it. Grabbing Kyle beneath his arms, I extend my own out to hold him as far away from my body as possible and make a run for the water hose. “Don’t move, Kyle,” I instruct as I uncoil the hose and turn on the water. “The water is gonna be cold. I’m so sorry, but we have to get you cleaned up. We’ll be super fast.”

Kyle stands as still as a statue while I spray the rest of the poop off of his bottom. The water bounces off of his body, flying back at me. A drop of shit water lands on my bottom lip, and I’m puking all over again. The entire situation is so ridiculous that it would be hysterical if it weren’t happening to me.

I unbutton and slip off my shirt, wrapping Kyle’s trembling body in it and head back to my defiled truck. My stomach is roiling. Savages teeth are chattering, and his one clean shirt is now soaked from the hose due to me not removing it beforehand. After lying Kyle on the back seat of my truck, I slide a fresh training diaper up his legs. Even that is an act of congress. With no other choice but to give him my undershirt, I pull it over my head and onto him. “There. That wasn’t so bad, now was it?” I ask, looking for a confidence boost.

“You suck at shanging bipers, Pooper. My mommy gonna kick you butt.”

“You’re probably right, Savage. Now, get in that car seat so I can take you back home. I don’t think my truck can handle another explosion.”