Chapter 13 - What Do You Mean? (2) (2/2)

“So, how old is Joshua?”

“Five years old!”

As expected. He was at the age I previously guessed.

“What do you like, Joshua?”

“Anything sweet! I love candy the most, but… Papa doesn’t like me eating it…”

Josh replied, head bowed down a little too low.

“Don’t worry. I’ll bring you candy without Papa knowing. It’ll be our little secret.”

“Really?”

“Of course. But you have to brush your teeth when you finish eating the candy, alright?”

“Yes!”

Josh nodded vigorously. I giggled and rubbed his hair unevenly.

“Mama, Joshua has a question too!”

He asked suddenly.

“What’s that?”

“Mama sometimes calls Papa an @sshole. What does it mean?”

“…….”

I was at a loss for words and my smiling face twitched, ready to break out into a cold sweat. I wondered if I’d be able to explain to a 5 year old the word which had a negative meaning…

“Well, Josh, ehem…. Someone as cool as your Papa is called an @sshole.”

I coughed.

“Wow! I see! A man as cool as Papa is called an @sshole!”

“Yep! Your Papa is so cool, so handsome so perfect!”

I couldn’t resist leaking out a chuckle. Josh didn’t know why I was laughing but it mattered not. He laughed along with me. For a while, we laughed like fools, but then it suddenly occurred to me… it’d be a nice view and hilarious to watch Josh call John, “Papa is an @sshole!” with an elated smile.

I could only imagine how surprised he’d be.

Frightened, he’d probably stagger back and faint.

I laughed louder, holding the pain in my stomach, imagining the ordeal John would go through. Josh followed along, roaring loudly with an overbearing laughter. He didn’t know why I was laughing. He just laughed with me.

What a cute child.

＊＊＊

After spending time with Josh as his pseudo-mother, I laid in the bedroom assigned to me freely. Josh had gone and left me to attend classes and before leaving he had repeatedly state that I not go anywhere else.

I was hungry at the time and I wanted to eat, but I endured the urges and kissed Josh on the cheek. “I’ll be here.”

And so here I am, lying in bed and lulling myself to sleep.

＊＊＊

When I woke up, I felt something pressing on me. I opened my eyes halfway with furrowed brows. I could smell the terrible scent of alcohol. I looked over and saw the great John Lancaster.

His was resting on my stomach!