Hilariously Ever After

by Penny Reid

  Right. I believed that like I believed it’d snow in Rock Bay this winter. On the SoCal coast, that was about as likely as what the twins were promising me.

  “I don’t get it,” I said, staring at the cards in my hand. “How can I lose at Snap?”

  Ellie and Eli giggled.

  “You don’t shout ‘snap’ kick enough,” Ellie explained. “I faster than you.”

  Yeah, no kidding. I’d figured that much out.

  I hmphed and put another card down. Ellie slapped one on top of mine. I did another, the picture matching, and before I’d even opened my mouth, Ellie hollered, “Snap!”

  With a sly grin, she whacked her hand on top of the pile and slid the two matching cards toward her.

  I stared at Brantley with my mouth open in a “What the fuck?” look.

  He glanced at Ellie. “Are you cheating?”

  “Nope.” She jutted her chin out and up. “I just weal good at Snap.”

  No kidding. If there was such a thing as a Snap World Tournament, she had a positive future.

  Eli put a card on the pile he had between him and his dad. They exchanged cards for a moment before two matched and Eli screamed, “Snap!”

  “Oh my god!” Brantley threw his cards down. “This is ridiculous. You’re four! I’m almost thirty! How are you beating me, dude?”

  “Oh dear, Daddy. Are you hading a tantwum?” Ellie looked at him with her eyebrows raised.

  “Do you need a time out?” Eli asked, eyes wide.

  I bit the inside of my cheek and looked away.

  I was pretty sure I’d heard Brantley say that at some point during the time I’d known them, which just reaffirmed that kids really were tiny sponges in human bodies.

  “I need a beer,” Brantley muttered, sweeping all the cards into a neat pile. “Come on, you two. It’s time for bed.”

  “Awwww,” they whined in chorus. “But we not tired!”

  I glanced between them.

  “Of course, you’re not,” Brantley agreed. “But it’s still time for bed.”

  “That’s not faaaair,” they continued together.

  Well, neither was life. Better they learned that early.

  “Bedtime,” he said again, putting both sets of cards back in their boxes.

  “Aw, Daddyyyyy.”

  “No.” He got up and crooked fingers at them. “Let’s go.”

  “Is Kawi staying?”

  “No,” I said, standing up. “I have a lot of work to do tomorrow, and I already stayed and lost at Snap. I really do have to go.”

  “Ohhh, but that’s not fair,” Eli muttered.

  Brantley flapped his hands at them. “Go. Upstairs. Find your pajamas. It doesn’t matter if Kali stays or not, because you’ll be asleep.” He herded them out into the hallway, and I followed, clutching my phone and keys.

  “But, Daddy,” Ellie said, turning halfway up the stairs. “If Kawi goes, then you’ll be alone.”

  He paused. “Yes?”

  “Doesn’t dat make you sad?”

  No. I wasn’t going to do it. Not tonight. Not this time. I’d spent more than enough time with him lately, and something had to give. I was not going to be guilted into staying by her.

  Nope.

  Absolutely not.

  I pulled away from the stairs, toward the door.

  “No,” Brantley said slowly. “I’m used to it. Kali is right—she has a lot of work tomorrow, and you need to get some sleep because you’re at Summer’s again.”

  “Again?” Her eyes bugged.

  “She bakes nice cookies,” Eli said quietly. “I like it there.”

  My lips twitched up.

  Goddamn it, no, they couldn’t be doing that.

  Every time I smiled at those kids, they stole a little piece of my heart.

  “Let’s go.” Brantley waved his hands, ushering them up the stairs.

  “Night, Kawi,” Eli shouted over his shoulder.

  “Night, kids.” I smiled and edged toward the door.

  Ellie caught my eyes, a sad look in hers, and waved a tiny hand in goodbye. She dipped her head as Brantley’s hand touched her back and pushed her up.

  I took a deep breath and sighed it back out. That right there was the epitome of a guilt trip. The sadness in her eyes at the idea of me leaving—

  No.

  I wasn’t going to fall for it. I wasn’t going to let it work. I couldn’t let it. We’d already crossed too many times and if I stayed…

  I leaned against the front door and stared through the door into the kitchen. The smell of pizza still lingered, and I knew there was at least an entire pizza in the box on the side that was probably the reason for it lingering.

  I hugged my phone to my stomach, then pulled it out in front of me and texted Jayda.

  Me: At Hot Dad’s. Do I stay or do I go?

  Her response was immediate. She needed a life.

  Jayda: Stay.

  In hindsight, she wasn’t the best person to ask that question to.

  “Jesus, you scared the crap out of me.” Brantley laughed, hand on his stomach.

  I looked at him wide-eyed.

  “I thought you’d left,” he said through his laughter. “Is something wrong?”

  “No, I…” I paused, narrowing my eyes. “I think I’m falling for Ellie’s guilt trip.”

  “Oooh.” He winced. “My apologies. But, that explains why you’re still here.”

  “Yeah, I can’t decide if I feel bad for leaving and you being lonely or worse that I’m staying and I probably shouldn’t,” I said slowly.

  “You’re staying?” He quirked a brow. “You’re welcome to.”

  “I guess I am. I mean, I was only going to go home, put on Friends, and take off my pants.”

  “You don’t need to go home to do that. I’m not the biggest Friends fan in the world, but I’d watch it if it meant you weren’t wearing pants.” A wolfish grin spread across his face.

  I rolled my eyes and pushed off the door. “No. I’m not going to take off my pants.”

  “You wound me.” He laughed. “It’s a nice evening. Wanna sit outside?”

  “Sure.” As I followed him out, I realized I’d only ever looked at the yard from Ellie’s bedroom window.

  Brantley pushed open the back door onto a wooden porch. A large, rattan sofa took up one corner of the porch, and a few half-burned candles sat on the glass table in front of it. The porch looked out over a lush, green yard dotted with kids’ toys, everything from a soccer ball to a swing set with a slide.

  He took a seat on one end of the sofa, and I dropped myself into the corner, kicking off my shoes. I tucked my feet up and sighed, leaning against the squishy back cushions.

  It was basically silent. Aside from the gentle hum of the TV inside, there was nothing. It was incredible, because I’m not sure I realized how loud the twins were until right now.

  “Do you feel like this every day when they go to bed?”

  Brantley quirked a brow. “Like what?”

  “Like, wow, shit, they’re really loud.”

  He stared at me for a moment before bursting into laughter. I blinked at him, watching as his shoulders shook with each deep chuckle that escaped his lips.

  “Am I funnier than I think I am?”

  He shook his head, still laughing. “No. I’m laughing because I’ve never put that feeling into words before, but you just nailed it. It really is exactly that.”

  “They are really loud,” I said again, frowning. “Are all kids like that or is it just because there’s two of them?”

  “You have no idea about kids, do you?”

  “Not really. I’m pretty ignorant about them,” I admitted with a shoulder shrug. “I’ve never been around them. The closest I’ve ever been is in the grocery store with Janie Green’s son who screamed the entire trip. I wanted to punch him in the face.” I frowned. “That makes me sound like a horrible person.”

  “Nah, I’m pretty sure we’ve all felt like tha
t once or twice.” He winked with a smirk. “It’s pretty amazing, though. You’re so good with the twins.”

  A blush rose up my cheeks. “I’m just nice to them.”

  “You’re more than nice. You’re weirdly patient. Like, with the paint. Kali, anyone else would have lost their minds and been so fucking angry, but you just brushed it off.”

  “I was annoyed.” I tucked hair behind my ear. “But me showing them that wouldn’t have achieved anything. You handled it. I’m just the builder. My anger has no place here.”

  “Just the builder.” He smiled, meeting my eyes.

  “Are you sure I’m not being really funny today?”

  He shook his head again, rubbing his hand over his forehead. “I think it’s funny that you refer to yourself like that. I think you’re more than just the builder.”

  “You do?”

  “Do you have any idea how much fun you are to be around?”

  “No, but if you’re about to give me some compliments, I’ll happily listen.”

  He laughed. “I just…Hell. You’re just fun, Kali. I don’t even think you realize how much of an amazing person you are. Moving here was so hard, and until you showed up on my doorstep, I was sure I’d change my mind. You make me laugh more than anyone ever has.”

  “That’s because I’m an idiot,” I pointed out. “Like the paintbrush mic thing. Idiocy.”

  “You’re an adorable idiot. It works.”

  “Aw, you think I’m adorable.” I grinned.

  “You are when you smile like that.”

  Another blush heated my cheeks. I cleared my throat and looked down.

  Brantley laughed again. “See? Still adorable.”

  “All right, stop it. You’re just saying it to make me blush now.”

  “Pretty much. Is it working?”

  I clapped my hands over my cheeks. “No.”

  He reached over, grabbed my wrists, and tugged my hands away, revealing the red-hot blush that was coating my cheeks. A disarmingly sexy grin stretched across his face, and I pouted as his gaze flashed across my face.

  “Stop it.” I wriggled my hands out of his grip. “I swear, messing with me is your new favorite hobby.”

  “It is,” he admitted, eyes sparkling. “You’re so easy to fuck with, I don’t even have to try.”

  I rolled my eyes. “And to think—I let myself be guilt-tripped into this.”

  “More fool you. I warned you about her, and you obviously didn’t listen.”

  “That’s so not fair. I did listen, I just don’t have freaky skills to avoid the guilt like you do.”

  “I don’t avoid the guilt. I pretend.”

  “Would you have pretended if you were me, knowing you’d leave a poor guy to be lonely?”

  He raised his eyebrows. “I wouldn’t have been lonely. I’d have watched TV with my pants off.”

  “You don’t get to use my plans as an excuse,” I scoffed. “And unless your daughter is a master manipulator, you would have been lonely.”

  “She’s four. All four-year-old’s are master manipulators. If kids came with manuals, that would be the title of the chapter that talks about age four,” he said.

  “There are technically manuals. They’re these wonderful, futuristic things called books.”

  “None of which are geared toward a single dad,” he pointed out. “The last time I Googled something, I diagnosed Eli with a rare, deadly disease, learned that there are way too many styles of braid for any human being to master, and also found out how to get the kids out of the door by eight and have time to do my make-up.”

  I paused. “I can see how that last one would be of use to you. Your mascara looks wonderful today.”

  He dipped his head and laughed, his shoulders shaking.

  I looked out over the trees at the end of the yard. The sun was beginning to set, and bright flecks broke in through the leaves.

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  Brantley shifted. “You mean another question, right? Since you just did.”

  I quickly flipped him the bird, which did nothing but make him laugh again.

  “Yes. I have a question.”

  He nodded his head toward me, resting his arm along the back of the sofa. “Shoot.”

  “Was it Ellie being Ellie, or do you get lonely by yourself?”

  He opened his mouth, then stopped. Closing it again, his eyebrows drew together in a frown that made deep furrows across his forehead. “I don’t know. I used to, right after Katie died. Now, I think I’m so used to being alone, that even if I were lonely, I wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.”

  I looked down, playing with a loose bit of thread on my shirt. “Is it hard? Like…Do you ever think that one day you’ll wake up and it was all in your head? That she’s actually alive?”

  “It’s hard, but she’s gone. There’s no changing it. I knew she was going to die, and I made peace with it before.” He tapped his fingers against the cushion. “But, no, I don’t ever wonder if it wasn’t real. Too much changed for it to never be real.”

  Slowly, I nodded. “It’s weird. I used to dream that when I was a kid. That my mom hadn’t died, and one day I’d come home from school and she’d be baking cookies. I think I convinced myself she was a spy once and that’s why she wasn’t around.”

  He smiled. “Grief is weird. When Katie died, I didn’t cry. I was numb, but I couldn’t show any pain. Everyone thought I was weird, and I swear, if she hadn’t been so sick, I would have been questioned over her murder.”

  That made me laugh. “So, you’re a psychopath. Good to know.”

  “Don’t tell anyone. I think I’m starting to make friends and I don’t want to scare everyone off.”

  “Your secret is safe with me. Don’t worry.”

  “Thank God. I might still have to kill you, though.” He smirked. “Do you…This is probably a really dumb question, but do you miss your mom? Like really miss her.”

  “I miss her every day,” I answered softly. “It doesn’t hurt to miss her anymore, it just kinda is, you know? It’s more like it’s become a part of me and is as natural as the delight I feel when I find an extra Twizzler in the packet.”

  “A Twizzler.”

  “Ah, you haven’t been introduced to my obsession yet. Everyone who comes to my house has to bring me Twizzlers. You’d be surprised how steady that candy stream is.”

  “Good to know.” He paused. “And thanks. For answering the question. It gives me hope that when the twins understand, maybe one day they’ll be able to cope with it.”

  “Do you miss her?”

  He blew out a long breath. “I don’t know, honestly. It’s a bit like the loneliness. I think if I do, I miss what she would do. Like, Ellie’s hair, or cutting their nails, or sewing up the knees of Eli’s jeans. Does that sound bad?”

  “I think it makes sense.” I bent my knee and hugged it to my chest. “You miss the fact that they don’t have a mom. You miss what she represents instead of her as a person.”

  He rubbed his hand down his face slowly. “God, that sounds bad.”

  “I don’t think so.” I glanced away before meeting his eyes. “That’s what my dad missed, too, I think. Our lives changed so suddenly, and he had to learn to do all this stuff he’d never done. I don’t think he’d ever threaded a needle in his life until after Mom died. Over time, he reached a point where he missed what she was more than who he was. He had to learn to be a parent all over again.”

  “Learn to be a parent all over again,” Brantley echoed. “That’s exactly what it is. I never imagined myself braiding hair or putting softener in Barbie’s hair because she got dragged through a bush backwards. There’s just so much…stuff. And that’s all it is. Stuff. And I can’t thread a needle for the life of me. I just buy new jeans.”

  “It’s really not hard. Especially if you patch the knees.”

  “What part of “I can’t thread a needle” is confusing to you?”

  I glared a
t him. “I’m giving you advice. Take it.”

  “I still can’t thread a needle. It really doesn’t matter if patches work or not. I won’t be able to apply them.”

  “Honestly, you’re making it sound like threading a needle is like running an army.”

  “I run an army every day. The problem is, I created them.”

  “They’re not an army.” I rolled my eyes. “And I’ll teach you how to thread a needle.”

  “Can’t you thread it for me?”

  “If I hear the word ‘thread’ one more time, I’m literally going to punch myself in the face.”

  Brantley leaned forward. “Thread.”

  I punched myself in the face, then winced.

  “That hurt, didn’t it?” He grinned.

  “Lil’ bit,” I replied, rubbing the side of my nose. “Thanks for hurting me.”

  “I didn’t do a damn thing to you.”

  “You said the word and made me punch myself.”

  He shrugged. “You’re the one who said you’d punch yourself in the face. I was merely conducting an experiment on your ability to follow through with your promises.”

  “Great. It was a social experiment in trust.” I rubbed my nose again. “That really did quite hurt.”

  He laughed, then leaned forward. Two fingers brushed my jaw, and he turned my face to the side. “There’s nothing there. I don’t know why you hit yourself so hard.”

  “Because I’m an idiot. We established this earlier.” I turned my head back.

  “An adorable idiot.”

  “Still an idiot.”

  “The best kind of idiot,” he corrected me, a small smile teasing at his lips. “My favorite kind of idiot.”

  I side-eyed him. “I can’t decide if you’re still complimenting me.”

  “Don’t take it too highly,” he replied. “I have Ellie in the ‘adorable idiot’ camp, too.”

  I leaned forward and smacked his shoulder. “Just when I was starting to like you.”

  “Starting to like me?” He snatched my hand, wrapping his fingers around my wrist. His fingertips pressed on the inside, and he rubbed his thumb along the sensitive skin, sending a tingle up my arm that made me shiver. Eyebrows raised, he continued, “I think you like me a lot more than you’re letting on.”