"Men... protect girls!" Gifford answered earnestly.
"Who told you that?"
"Daddy!"
Blair looked at her son, a loving look in her eyes. She felt grateful to Wesley and Cecelia. They had taught him well.
The little boy was dressed in his pajamas. Blair thought she should help him get changed since she was taking him out of the house.
It was the first time she had dressed him. Previously, she was still recovering and Wesley didn't allow her to strain herself. No housework, no carrying their son. She had lain in bed most of the time.
As soon as she opened Gifford's closet, the strangest sight met her eyes. The shirts were normal—various styles, different colors. But almost all the pants were boys' overalls.
Confused, she looked down at the little boy who was also peering in the closet "You don't have any other pants? Just these?"
It wasn't until then that she realized her son had been dressed in boys' overalls every day.
The boy climbed into the closet and sat on the edge. Looking at his own clothes, he tried to find the words he knew to explain.
"Daddy... helps me...fly..." 'W-what?' Blair was confused, trying hard to decipher her son's words. "Fly? How does he do that? I'm sorry, little one. I don't get it."
The little boy was a bit anxious. He didn't know how to explain to Blair. He stood up and grabbed a pair of overalls off the hanger. He clumsily climbed out of the closet, carrying the overalls, and then lay them on the floor. Blair was amused as she watched the little boy.
Then, the boy grabbed the straps, holding them in his little hand, and showed them to Blair.
A scene flew into her mind and she finally realized what he meant. "Does your daddy always carry you in his hand like this..." she asked as she clutched at the collar of his pajamas and pretended to lift him up.
Gifford nodded, "Uh huh!" He didn't have a say in picking out the clothes. He could only wear whatever his daddy bought him.
Blair was rendered speechless. Wesley used to carry her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and now he carried their son in his hand like a bag of tomatoes.
Couldn't he just hold the kid in his arms like a normal father?
'Oh, you poor thing, ' she sighed helplessly.
After dressing her son, Blair took him out and went different places for fun. She found that her son was quite popular wherever she went. Waving to him, smiling, and even saying hi. A lot of people knew him and children would come up and play with him.
As she watched them play, Blair discovered another more surprising fact: Gifford knew how to goosestep! He taught the other children how to march like a soldier. His tone sounded like Wesley. Except that he couldn't string more than a couple words together at a time, he acted very much like his daddy.
'Oh my god! Wesley...' Blair shook her head helplessly, sighing.
'Does he want our kid to be a soldier too? So when he grows up, he'll be in the military?'
While she thought about all this, her phone rang. Speak of the devil. She picked up the phone and launched into an interrogation. "Did you teach our son how to goose-step?"
"Yeah. He hasn't gotten it down yet." Wesley felt it a shame that Blair discovered it so soon. Their son's goose-stepping was still far below par. As his teacher, he felt embarrassed.
Of course, Blair had a different opinion. She couldn't care less how good he was at it.
Looking at her kid playing with the others, Blair told the man off. "He's not even two years old, but you're training him to goose-step? Seriously? Isn't it too early?"
"The earlier, the better. He definitely has my genes. He's learning quickly. Good thing." Good thing—that was the best praise the strict Wesley could give a two-year-old boy.
"Okay, let's drop it. I have another question. Why does he have only overalls? No pants, no jeans. Just those."
After a moment of silence, he replied succinctly, "I bought them."
"I know that, but why are they all boys overalls?"
"Makes him easier to carry," he said honestly.
So her guess was right! Blair looked up at the sky to hold back her anger, and then fixed her eyes on her son again. "He's your son. He's not a doll or a thing. You should hold him in your arms!"
"Hey, hey. Don't get mad, honey. I won't do it again."
"Okay, do keep it in mind. I'll buy some new clothes for him later. Why did you call me? Coming back home?" Blair asked expectantly.
"No. I called to tell you I have another mission. Three days to a week." B
lair was sensitive about the word "mission." Aware of the secrecy of his job, she didn't ask any more questions, but cautioned in a tender voice, "I see. Be careful. I'll wait for you at home."
The truth was, Blair still didn't know who Wesley worked for and where he was working. She knew it was somewhere in A Country, the place he grew up in. His work was kind of mysterious, and she never asked about it. She respected his choice.
"I will. Honey..."
"Yes?"
"I need a kiss from you."
Blair didn't know what to say. She was in a public place, with the other kids' parents near her. She felt stupid to make kissing sounds over the phone. "No. I'm outside. People will hear me," she said in a low voice.
"But I won't see you for a week. I'll miss you so much," he protested. In the past, Wesley believed it was silly to say you couldn't live without the one you loved. But now, with Blair in his life, he thought differently. Yes, he could live on if he lost Blair, but his world would be colorless.
He would live like a ghost without a soul.
Hearing his protests, Blair felt helpless. Since when did Wesley become so childish? With no choice, she turned around and made the kissing sound. "Muah!" As soon as she was done, she turned back to watch their son again, making sure he was safe.
"Is that okay, Mr. Li?"
"Not really. I wish I could feel your kiss."
Blair blushed. "That's enough. Off to work. Goodbye."
"Mm hmm. Honey, I love you."
She had heard the words "I love you" drop from his mouth every chance he got. He didn't hesitate to confess his love. "I know. I love you, too. Now, go back to work."
Wesley reluctantly hung up the phone.
Their phone calls used to be short. But somehow, their conversations got longer and longer. They seemed to have a ton of sweet words for each other.
If he could, Wesley would keep Blair on the phone forever. But he couldn't; he had to work.
After putting away his phone, Wesley returned to his usually serious self and walked back to his office.
Blair waited until Gifford said goodbye to his playmates. Then, she took him to the supermarket. "It's late today. We'll go buy some new pants tomorrow, but let's get something to eat tonight. What do you think?"
The little boy nodded, "Yes. Mommy, food... cheese potato."
'Cheese potato?' Blair knocked it around in her brain. "You mean cheesy bacon potatoes?" She remembered the chef at home had cooked that last time.
Gifford clapped his hands excitedly. "Uh huh!"
"But I've never cooked that before. I'll give it a shot. Want to try it? Don't blame me if it tastes bad." Blair took his little hand in hers and walked slowly.
"Okay."
Blair had installed an app for children's cuisine on her phone before. She wrote down the recipes she was interested in, so now she just needed to buy the ingredients.
She put the little boy into the shopping cart and pushed it around the supermarket. "It's just you and me tonight. We don't need to buy too much food. How about tofu, fried rice with diced chicken, shrimp... and vegetable porridge. Sound good, little one?"
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