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Chris realises he might have made a mistake approximately five minutes after the door closes behind his dad and Buck, leaving Chris alone with Theo for the first time ever.
He isn’t saying he doesn’t want to spend time with him. It’s the exact opposite actually, Chris loves the kid and he is really fun to play with—though Chris would like to refrain from using the word play in any context unrelated to video games since it makes him sound and feel like a toddler.
Much like the one he is currently babysitting.
The one he had to beg Buck to let him babysit.
It’s not that Buck doesn’t trust him or that he thinks Chris isn’t capable of watching Theo. He is just really protective over him, and Chris gets that. He does.
But he also thinks a part of Buck still thinks of him as a kid—which he is not. He is almost sixteen! His dad had been letting him stay home alone for extended periods of time and everything went fine. Because he is basically an adult and he knows how to take care of himself.
So when Buck proclaimed that he is going to drop Theo off at Aunt Maddie’s house before his and Dad’s date, Chris put up a real fight for Buck to let him stay at home with Chris.
In truth, he would be just as happy to play video games all night and eat snacks for dinner, but it’s the principle of the thing.
Besides, it’s not like being with Theo is a hardship. They are basically brothers now that Buck and his dad are together and spending more time together than not. Well, that last part has always been true, but things feel different now. Permanent. Domestic. Like they are a real family.
So, it’s been nice. Having a little sibling who thinks Christopher is way cooler than he actually is, and who laughs whenever Chris annoys Dad on purpose, and who Chris can impress with a wide pool of dinosaur fun facts he learned when he was going through that phase.
Though now that they are alone, Chris can appreciate the usual supervision of their shared time together.
Chris doesn’t really know how to talk to four year olds. He doesn’t think he has talked to one since he was that age. He is kind of worried he’ll say something he shouldn’t. Like a curse word that Theo will internalise and keep repeating until their dads get home and get proven right that Chris is not responsible big brother material.
He might be exaggerating a little, but his point mostly stands.
And he is more concerned at how subdued Theo is today. He is still loud and chaotic and he is running around, trying to do as much as he can in the smallest amount of time possible, but he also seems a little different. Like something might be bothering him. Chris could be imagining it, he supposes. It’s not like Theo is crying or throwing a fit, and Buck didn’t mention anything that happened that could have dampened his spirits, so Chris decides he’ll worry about it if the evidence starts suggesting otherwise.
Which, naturally, happens very quickly.
Chris asks Theo to show him the new firetruck toy Buck bought him. He has seen it a few hundred times in the last three days because Theo adores it so much that he made it his personal mission to show it off to every living soul he encounters. Chris gets it, he would probably sleep with the thing if he was Theo’s age.
The point is, Theo is enamoured and Chris figures playing with it might occupy him enough that Chris won't have to run after him through the whole house, afraid Theo will break a picture frame or his own nose.
The toy was temporarily misplaced, which brings Chris to The Problem.
One might think a child would throw a temper tantrum over a missing favorite toy, but what actually happens is much scarier. Theo rummages through the backpack that he brings with him to preschool, throws an excessive amount of stuff on the ground—seriously, do kids need that many things—and then his shoulders slump and he goes almost completely still when he pulls out a piece of paper.
A note? Chris can’t make out what it is from his spot on the couch.
“What do you have over there, buddy?” he asks, trying not to let worry seep into his voice. He is not sure if Theo would pick up on it either way, but he decides it’s better to be safe than sorry.
Theo walks, not runs like he usually would, over to where Chris is sitting. When he gets close enough, Chris can see that the paper he is clutching in his tiny hands is a card. A really badly coloured card, with a stick figure drawing of a woman and a much smaller figure with blond hair.
Oh.
Chris gets it before Theo even says the words.
“Mrs. Tina said it’s mother’s day on Sunday. We made cards,” Theo explains, his voice lacking the usual enthusiasm.
Chris has no idea what to say. He might relate, but that only makes it worse because he knows that there isn’t a thing you can say to make a child feel better after losing a parent. It just sucks, and there is no real fix for it.
“That’s really nice, Theo.”
Theo is quiet for a while as they both stare at the card. Then he says, in the tiniest voice possible, “Do you think my mommy can see it? Buck says she can’t come back, but she looks down from the clouds.”
Chris has no idea whether he even believes in the idea of the afterlife that allows people to go to heaven and watch over their loved ones, but he isn’t going to ruin Theo’s perception of it. Besides, he likes the idea that his own mom is somewhere up there, protecting him and cheering him on.
“Yeah, of course she can,” Chris tells him with as much cheer as he can muster.
“I want them to come back,” Theo sniffs.
This poor kid. He didn’t just lose his mom. He lost his dad too, and then he had to come live with Buck, who—though Chris believes he is the best person for the job—was essentially a stranger to him. Chris has no idea what it would have been like for him if his dad weren’t there when his mom died. Knowing that they always had each other was one of the only bright sides in his life at that time.
Chris sometimes forgets how much Theo had been through. With his chipper personality and loud laughs, it doesn't give anyone a reason to doubt that the kid is anything but content.
Chris should know better, though.
“Hey, come here,” he says, patting the spot on the couch next to him. “Can I tell you something?”
Theo settles in, his small body pressing up against Christopher’s side, and he gives him a small nod.
“I miss my mom, too.”
“Is she in the clouds like my mom?”
“Yeah, I haven’t seen her in a while. And I would want her to come back, too, if she could,” he says, blinking back tears.
The need to cry surprises him. He doesn’t get overly emotional when his mom comes up anymore. He was so young when she died that he barely remembers what life was like when she was around. Sometimes that hurts him more than anything, but mostly he doesn’t like to dwell on it too much. He loves talking about her, even when it’s those same stories his dad repeats from their teenage years that Chris has heard a million times. It makes him feel closer to her in a way he was robbed from truly being.
He doesn’t know how to articulate any of that to Theo. He really wants him to know it, though. That it gets better. That he might want to cry unprompted sometimes, but that it won’t feel awful forever. That he will learn how to be grateful for the little time he got with his parents, instead of just angry that he doesn’t have any anymore.
He tries saying something Theo can understand.
“You know what, I bet our moms are friends.”
Theo brightens up a bit at that. “Really?”
“Oh, yeah, for sure.” The smile on Chris’ face isn’t forced at all. He likes imagining it, his mom in heaven, making friends, having a life she didn’t get to have on earth. “My mom is super nice and she loves meeting new people.”
“My mommy, too!” Theo exclaims, a step away from excitedly jumping up and down.
“That’s great. It’s nice that they can keep each other company.”
“What do they talk about?”
Chris grins and, as theatrically as he can, says, “You, obviously!”
Theo laughs and any of the previous tension leaves his body.
“And you?” Theo asks hopefully. Like he doesn’t want Chris to be excluded.
“Of course. They are just bragging left and right.”
Theo gives him a confused look, like he isn’t sure what half of those words mean put together.
Before he has to try to explain, Chris hurriedly moves on, “Your mom is probably telling my mom how much she loves the card you made.”
“Did you make a card?”
“Uh, no.”
That seems to make Theo upset again.
“Your mom will be sad,” he says.
Chris’ heart melts a little at how genuinely kind and thoughtful someone so little can be. He really couldn’t have asked for a better brother.
“Don’t worry, I will make her one,” Chris assures him. “And I was hoping you could help me since yours is so pretty. I can’t make it look that good on my own.”
Theo claps his hands and jumps off the couch to start gathering whatever markers and other crafting supplies he can find. Chris brings some paper from his room and they spend the rest of the afternoon sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table, making a mother’s day card.
By the time Dad and Buck get home, half of the living room area is covered in glitter and Chris’ leg is numb from where Theo is sleeping half on top of him.
“Hey,” Chris whispers to Buck who enters first. “He fell asleep a while ago. I didn’t want to wake him.”
Buck’s whole face softens looking at the two of them. He picks Theo up in his arms, careful not to stir him. “I’ll put him to bed.”
Dad, who is leaning against the wall, has an expression matching Buck’s on his face. Only once Theo is out of the room does he fully take in the state of the living room.
“What happened here?” he asks, halfway between endeared and amused.
Chris picks up the finished card and hands it to his dad. “It’s mother’s day soon. We made a card.”
“Oh.”
“Theo’s class was making them today,” Chris explains. “He was missing his parents, so I told him about Mom. He insisted we make one for her, too.”
Dad seems touched, and a little sad like he always is when they talk about Mom. “Chris—”
“It’s not a big deal, Dad,” Chris interrupts him. He realises the words are true when he says them. Theo was upset and Chris helped him. It’s what brothers do, right? He doesn’t need any praise for it.
“You are the best kid in the world, you know that,” Dad says, as sappy as ever, and bends down to kiss the top of Chris’ head.
Chris can’t say he minds hearing it.
Still, he feels it’s necessary that he adds, “I’m almost sixteen.”
“Sorry,” Dad replies and throws his hands in mock surrender. “You are the best almost-adult in the world.”
Chris laughs. “Thank you. We can give Theo the title of the best kid.”
“Deal.”
When they fall silent for a beat, they notice the muffled sound of chatter coming from the bedroom.
“Well, looks like the best kid is up,” Dad says, grinning. “Did you guys have anything to eat?” When Chris shakes his head, he adds, “We brought some takeout from the restaurant just in case.”
They head to the kitchen where Buck already is, holding a sleepy Theo in his arms. Theo lights up when he sees Chris. He always does, but it feels extra special to Chris tonight.
He thinks babysitting might have been his best idea ever.