"You just leave little Kyle here and don't bother coming home until four hours later? Where the hell've you been, son?"

Brendan closed the door behind him and looked at his dad like he'd just seen a ghost. Then his expression fell back into nonchalance. "Dad, his name's Clyde. Also, I had to get some bank. Those bills don't pay up themselves."

"You won't bother about those no more. Your big daddy's here now to handle that tough stuff."

"Really?!" Brendan face immediately brightened. If there was no cash that he had to fork out of his savings to pay for rent he was basically rich.

But Damien put a quick stop to his exhilaration when he went on. "No need to feel yourself lucky so quick. That child's gonna cost you a fortune. What do you think will all those diapers cost? And that's only the beginning; formula, clothes, dummies, etc. You got a job, son?"

"I sell weed."

"Just what I thought, delinquent."

Brendan rolled his eyes as he passed him and stopped in front of Clyde. He felt a smile gracing his lips when he looked down at him despite being told he would need to spend all his earnings on this little critter. He was never rich to begin with so it didn't really felt like he was losing something.

"Like father like son," Brendan countered finally. He felt the presence of his dad next to him, the stench of alcohol deep and lingering in his breath.

"When yo Clyde grows up, and he deals, you gonna let him tell you likewise?"

"Yup." Brendan said nonchalantly. "There's people that sell worse things than drugs; like, banana slicers and dog shaped dog whistles." He laughed at the memory, then he remembered something else: Aaron hadn't texted him back yet, at least he didn't get a message.

With a feeling of a stone sinking down his stomach he pulled out his phone and checked the messages. Gracious god, he did see it after all, but didn't bother to text back. He put the phone back, feeling at least relieved that this little shit was still here on earth breathing.

Brendan Smart was not a murderer!

"Well, time to man up now son, your duty as a responsible parent begins here." Damien Smart said as he slouched towards the kitchen, arms swinging lazily.

Brendan ignored him. He still felt like celebrating after finding out that he didn't kill his best friend. He leaned into Clyde's face and squinted mischievously, and the little monkey squinted back.

"No need," Brendan called after his dad, but looked at Clyde. "I'm plenty man. I can handle a baby," He brought a finger under the baby's cheek and tickled it, adding with a coo, "I can handle a baby like you!"

. . .

Brendan left the house wearing a really baggy jacket in the same black as the baby sling he'd wrapped around underneath it. It was almost enough to make Clyde less visible upon first glance but he still kept his head down and his pace quick because if he gave people more time to stare at him they'd see it's some thug carrying a kid, and if his friends saw it they'd know it was him.

He figured it could be pretty easy covering up the fact that he had a kid. At least for a few years, enough time till his friends grew a pair and wouldn't act immature about it. Or maybe one of them would become a dad themselves; his bet was on Baby Freddie. With that girlfriend he had it was kind of a given.

But the thing was she'd get pregnant by some other guy and not tell him and Freddie would be too much of a pussy to ask for proof he was the dad so he'd just end up raising someone else's.

Brendan peeked through the glass door of the local Good Foods store before he opened it with his foot, keeping one arm around Clyde like a seatbelt.

The body sling was already pretty secure but he kinda felt paranoid that some rowdy dudes would bump into him—bump into Clyde—-and squish him or something. He definitely didn't want a baby getting smushed to–yeah.

As he strolled over to the kid aisle, he kept his head down so his bucket hat covered his face generously, and felt something wetting his chest. It took him a while to realise that this was Clyde drooling at him, even longer it took him to realise that he was trying to reach his nipple over his shirt or something.

Brendan couldn't hold himself back to whisper something to him. "I'm not yo mum, but imma get you formula, all right. No worries, punk."

His eyes darted up, scanning the area in case someone had caught him. When everything seemed calm—Mohad stocking up on snacks with his back to him; a few unfamiliar punks lurking around the back not paying him attention—he dedicated himself on finding the right stuff.

All he had to get were some baby wipes, formula, and diapers but he ended up looking for completely different things first which he didn't need, like commercial baby food, a variety of pacifiers, protein bars, ramen noodles...what the hell he somehow ended up at a spot that was anywhere but the baby aisle. And then he kinda forgot what he actually needed to buy altogether. Well damn.

The baby wipes!

He went back to grab them but once his hand touched the velvety smooth package another hand made a grab for it at the same time. Initially he froze, then tried to play it off cool, lowering his voice so nobody got any ideas, "My bad, bro. Go ahead it's yours."

"Awe, no problem, man." Brendan's eyes widened under his hat, thinking he knew that voice from somewhere. A sideways glance to where it came from confirmed his suspicions: It was Nolan, shopping for his two girls at the most uncalled of times.

Brendan pretended he was rocking Clyde, keeping both arms around him and his head down. He waited till Nolan happily collected all the shit he needed and strolled to the counter, but midway he turned on his heels and paced all the way back to Brendan.

"Bren? That you?"

Shit. Brendan cleared his throat, this fake low voice was really taking a strain on him. "Must got the wrong guy. I'm Kev-"

The store came to full view again as Nolan nudged the hat from Brendan's head. "Don't kid me, I know it's you, dude. Since when did you got a kid?"

"Uh, since a year already."

"And you never tell anybody?"

"Well, I didn't even know it myself till now. Simone apparently kicked it and left me with this kid."

"Shit, dude."

They kept in silence for a moment. Mohad stomped a cartoon flat from across the store then picked it up and carried it over to the back. "Yeah, so. Can we keep this between us? Don't want the others to know."

Nolan furrowed his brows. "What you mean you don't want anybody to know? You plan on keeping him locked up in your basement the other times you're not sneaking him to da bodega?"

Brendan squirmed. He hadn't really thought this through until know. He just assumed he'd keep him home till he was old enough for daycare or something. "Well, I guess tell anybody then. But only if they ask."

"That's better." Nolan seemed satisfied with that answer and began openly beholding Clyde, as if he was some kind of purple gecko he couldn't believe he was seeing. Which was just right, Brendan's baby boy was kind of a big deal.

"Yeah, got any tips for a single dad?"

Nolan nodded slowly, shifting his gaze from Clyde for a second to look at the punks as they came from the back and  passed by them, then his eyes were back on Clyde. Nolan had funny looking eyes, they were sunken in under the brow bone, amberish brown, and lacked a bit of depth.

"Always throw birthday parties and give 'em hell there. The rest will fall to your girl." He said finally.

"I don't gotta girl. Like I said, she's dead. Six feet under. Out cold."

Man, sometimes Brendan wondered why he was friends with stupid people like him. But he supposed it did have some perks, like then at least nobody was smarter than himself, which was just ideal of course. He went to pick up his hat while Nolan talked, putting it back on.

"Then get one. She'll deal with the other stuff. Being a single dad is just asking for misery."

"Doubt some chick would just willingly settle for a daddy."

"Well, duh!" Nolan called, alarming Mohad behind them who was back at the counter. He probably thought they were gonna steal something any moment. "That's why you gotta knock her up too, give your kid a sibling."

That was kinda messed up. Brendan fake-smiled and nodded. "Guess that's the plan,"

"Wanna come over and let your—What's his name?—Let your Clyde mingle with my girls?"

"Maybe another time."

Nolan told him he could come by any time then strolled over to Mohad and payed for his shit. Brendan dwelled a little longer in the baby aisle with Clyde making soft grunts as he slumbered against his chest, then went to paid as well.

It was kinda funny because Mohad even bothered to bag his things up for Brendan and stuck a calendar into it as well, apparently now that he's a parent people bother to give him free shit like this.

Back at home he almost threw the calendar away but an idea came to his mind so he didn't. He sat down with it on the couch, placed it on his lap and circled a red line on day 25 of march with a fat marker. Before that date he wrote in a squiggly handwriting; Calm before the storm.