by Penny Reid
I’d leave a piece in the paint on the walls and the nails in the floor. In the drawers in the dresser and the shelves that held their piggy banks.
I stared around the room. A box sat at the end of her bed, and a frilly, tulle skirt poked out of the top. While Brantley had gotten most of downstairs unpacked—finally—the kids’ bedrooms had, understandably, been left behind.
Pink hangers hung from the rail Dad had built into the bed. It was the entire width of the bed, and slowly, I crawled under the mid-sleeper bed and dragged the box with me.
One by one, I pulled out each costume and hung it up. Cinderella. Belle. Tinkerbell. Moana. Every costume you could imagine a four-year-old having, she had it.
I paused, fingering the satin-tulle skirt of Rapunzel’s costume. Dad had listened to me—he’d put hooks on the bed under Eli’s.
For his superhero costumes.
I lined Ellie’s dress up shoes on the shelf beneath the rack and used a small tub to put tiaras and gloves in. Leaving the box in the middle of the room, I darted into Eli’s. There were boxes in the corner of his, and damn it.
Excited, I rifled through each one until I found his special brand of dress-up.
Capes.
So. Many. Capes.
A gleeful smile spread over my face as I pulled a Batman one out. Two capes hung from each hook, and I grabbed a small tub to put his masks in. There were a couple hats that sat carefully in there, too.
I slid out from under the bed, pressing my hands against my stomach.
My heart skipped.
Seeing his capes hanging up. Knowing Ellie’s dresses were in the other room. Shoes and masks and gloves and tiaras.
Imagining the smiles on their faces when they saw it.
I bit my lip.
Hard.
Something—something inside me flared to life, and these incomplete rooms weren’t enough. These rooms needed curtains and bedding and rugs.
Brantley was at work.
The twins were at daycare.
I should have been at home.
Instead…
Instead, I tore open boxes. I rifled through the closet in the hall. I laid rugs and hung curtains. I plugged in lamps and fitted lampshades. I bended the legs of action figures until they were sitting, and I taped a poster of princesses to a wall.
I fitted sheets. I shook out pillowcases. I turned bedding inside out before giving the quilts a damn good shake. I buttoned the sheets and laid out soft toys. Wriggled rugs and set them in the perfect place.
Lined books on shelves.
Stacked DVDs next to TVs.
Sliced the tape on empty boxes and flattened them.
Removed them from the spots they’d occupied for too long.
More importantly, I injected a little piece of my love for each of those kids into their rooms.
I hugged empty boxes to my chest and, standing in the hallway, I looked into both rooms.
Perfection.
Nothing more, nothing less.
Just perfection.
I stacked the last of the cardboard next to the trash can in the front yard and headed back inside. The clock said they were arriving anytime now, so I shut the door and took up my perch on the fifth step.
They wouldn’t see me when they came in, but I’d be able to execute the final stage of my master plan.
Well, the next-to-final.
The final was the admission to Brantley that I was in love with his children. In love with him. In love with the*m all.
And I was.
Never mind Keeping Up With The Kardashians.
I was in love with the chaos of the Coopers.
Hammered.
Nailed.
Screwed.
Drilled.
I’d done all those things since I’d walked through that front door, but none compared to the things this family had done to me since that day.
Brantley had all but fucked me into loving him, and his kids had done the same thing so effortlessly, albeit it in so many different ways.
A car rumbled into the driveway.
I covered my smile with my hand as the sounds of Brantley getting the kids out the car creeped through the door.
I’d parked my truck a block away a couple hours ago, and instead of wearing what I normally did, a blue, floral dress hugged my body until it flared at my hips, and it did that right now. Spread over the stair I sat on as my heart beat ten million miles an hour.
I wanted to see their faces as I saw their bedrooms.
I wanted to see Brantley’s face as he saw their rooms.
The door opened, and I tucked into myself.
“I hungry,” Ellie said.
“Cake?” Eli asked hopefully.
“Sure.” The door shut, but it didn’t measure up to the tone of Brantley’s voice. He was downcast, almost sad…
I stood up, biting my lip. “Hi,” I said.
The twins grinned.
Brantley stilled.
“I have a surprise for you,” I said softly. “You wanna see?”
They nodded their heads.
“Okay, come upstairs and cover your eyes.”
On cue, they both followed me up and covered their eyes with their hands when they got to the top.
“You ready?” I asked.
They nodded.
“One…” I pushed open Ellie’s door. “Two…” Did the same to Eli’s. “Three! Open your eyes!”
They both threw their hands off their eyes with a flourish. Given that they were staring into each other’s rooms, they didn’t move a muscle until I nudged them in the right direction.
Then, Eli gasped, and Ellie screamed.
Brantley shot up the stairs like a bullet. “What is…” His feet touched down just inches behind me, and he stopped. I moved back against the wall. The kids were already in their rooms. They waited for nothing as they tore through toyboxes and scrambled under their beds.
A deep breath filled my lungs, and I wrapped my arms around my waist.
“What did you…” he breathed, looking first in Eli’s room, then into Ellie’s. “Kali. What did you do?”
“Made their beds, hung their curtains…” I trailed off when Eli emerged from under his bed wearing a yellow mask and a lime-green cape. “Hung up their costumes.”
Right on cue, Ellie appeared, dressed as Cinderella.
Eli pointed at her. “You damsel in distwess! I wescue you!”
She frowned, looking him up and down. “No. I wescue you!”
He paused. “Okay,” he said, scampering into his room and climbing up onto his new bed. “Help! Help!”
Brantley rubbed his hand across his forehead. “I don’t know what to say to you.”
“Let me make you a coffee is a good start,” I admitted. “I’ve been here all day.”
He eyed me for a moment, lips twitching, before he moved to go down the stairs. We both hovered for a second to check on the twins, but seeing them reenacting some great rescue from the mighty top of Bed Mountain obviously reassured us both, because seconds later my feet touched the floor and we were in the kitchen together.
Awkwardness tinged the air.
I leaned against the table and took a deep breath. I was exhausted. Nobody had bothered to tell me how exhausting it was to hang curtains and make beds.
No—nobody had told me how exhausting the little things were.
“Did anyone ever tell you,” I started, “That finding tape in your house is impossible?”
Spoon full of sugar in hand, Brantley paused. “Everyone who ever needed tape in my house.”
“Okay, so, for future reference, it’s on a red dispenser on your desk.”
“For now. Ellie likes to hang her drawings on her walls.”
“Ellie can learn to put it back where it belongs when she’s done with it.”
Again, he paused. Only for a second, but long enough to be poignant. “I feel like there’s a part of this conversation I’m not privy to.”
> There was.
“There is,” I said.
“Mostly the part about why you’re here.”
“Well, that’s a funny story.”
“Isn’t it always with you?”
“As a rule,” I agreed. “So, me and Dad got done with the beds pretty quick, and I hung around to make sure everything was done. And I just…couldn’t leave.”
“Sounds more voodoo than funny story to me.”
“Shut up and let me talk.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He turned and gave me a coffee with a grin, then rested back against the counter with his arms folded across his chest. “Please continue.”
I took a deep drink of coffee, set the mug down, and did just that. Well… “Now, you interrupted me. Where did I stop talking?”
“You just couldn’t leave,” he reminded me.
“Oh! Right. Thanks.” This wasn’t going how I’d planned it.
Story of my fucking life.
“So, yeah. I couldn’t leave. Then, I found Ellie’s costume box, and one thing led to another.”
“One thing led to you completing their bedrooms almost to entirety,” he pointed out.
“Right. Another.” I shrugged and used my coffee mug as a shield to hide my smile. “Semantics and all that.”
Brantley eyed me for a moment. “Why?” The question was short. Sharp. To the point. But, not cruel. Still kind—but so curious. “Why did you stay?”
“I told you. I couldn’t leave.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It is if I wanted it to be.”
“Kali—”
“I couldn’t leave because I didn’t want to,” I blurted out. I put the coffee mug on the table next to me and steeled myself. “I couldn’t leave if I didn’t get to say goodbye,” I added softly.
He took a deep breath. “Right. So, goodbye?”
I shook my head, dipping my gaze away briefly before swinging it back up to meet his. “No,” I said quietly. “That’s not what I meant. I—I thought about what you said. The other day, in the Coastal. And what I didn’t say and what I should have said—”
He closed the distance between us. His hands cupped my face, and he kissed me right as I hesitated. “I didn’t tell you enough,” he said as I curled my fingers in his shirt. “I didn’t tell you that I don’t just like you. I didn’t tell you that I’m falling in love with you, and I should have. I didn’t tell you—”
This time, the cut-off kiss was mine.
I shut him up.
“I didn’t tell you that I’m falling in love with you,” I echoed. “That I love your kids. That your family turned me from someone who never wanted them to someone who can’t imagine her life without them.”
He took a deep breath.
Pulled back.
Looked me in the eyes.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” I whispered. “I will never be good at what you do as a parent. I don’t know if it will ever be natural or right. But, I want to try. I want to try to be enough for them. For you.”
He touched his forehead to mine, smiling as he did it. “Baby, you already are. More than you know.”
I let my eyes flutter shut until he pulled back. “Is it okay? That I won’t be perfect?”
He stared at me for a moment, then used the fingertips that brushed my cheeks to sweep my hair behind my ears. “A few days ago, you looked after them when I didn’t even know what time it is. I don’t exactly have the market on perfect cornered.”
Well…there was that.
“And it doesn’t matter,” he continued quietly. “You’ll fuck up. I fuck up all the time. It’s part of this rollercoaster.”
“But, what if—”
He pressed his finger against my lips and shook his head. “Don’t ask it, Kali. Don’t you dare compare yourself.”
Tears stung the back of my eyes. “How can I not?”
“Listen to me.” His voice was so soft and soothing, and his eyes were so bright and open and raw in their emotion. “You’re different people. Katie will always be their mother, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be who you want to be to them. A part of me will always love her, but that doesn’t mean that the rest of me—all of me—can’t love you. Because, it can. And, I don’t want you to compare yourself. You—God, Kali. You breathe so much life into me,” he whispered, leaning his face down to mine. “Don’t. I want to see you singing into a paintbrush and chasing me around a table until I die laughing.”
I nodded, squeezing back the emotion. “Can I be scared of this?”
“Please do. I’m fucking terrified.”
For some reason, it made me laugh. Knowing he felt the same as me…I don’t know. It flipped a switch, and instead of crying, I burst out laughing, wrapping my arms around his waist.
His slid around me. His body shook with silent laughter, and in that moment, with my soul laid bare, wrapped around him, I knew.
I knew that we’d be okay.
Because, it was just like my mom had said.
I never wanted kids. Not until I met the two who needed me to want them.
And, I’d never wanted to want anyone as much as I did those crazy kids.
“Voom, voom!” Eli shouted, running through the room in a flash of color with his fist raised in the air.
“Ewi!” Ellie clobbered after him, her play shoes smacking against the kitchen as she readjusted the tiara on her head. “How cand I save you if you keep wunning away fromd me?”
I glanced up and met Brantley’s eyes.
They sparkled.
My heart skipped.
“Eli,” I called. “Stay still and let your sister rescue you!”
“Voom voom!” came from under the table.
“Pick your battles,” Brantley mouthed, releasing me so Eli could pop up between us. His masked face jerked between us before he grinned and took off, heading for the stairs.
“Okay,” I replied. “You fight this one, then.”
“That’s not what I meant.” His lips twitched.
“Ewiiiiiiiiiiii!” Ellie cried.
I cradled my coffee with a smirk.
Brantley sighed, strolling out of the kitchen. “Eli!”
Epilogue
One year later
I stared at the party spread in front of me, then down at my stomach.
I looked fat.
Not even pregnant-fat, just fat. The horrible, awkward moment where people would stare at you in the store as they figured it out.
Too pregnant to hide it, too small to confirm it, my mom kept saying.
Although, if she touched my bump one more time, I was going to karate chop her head off her fucking shoulders.
Hands slid over my waist and across the pudge. “Look at that,” Brantley murmured, drawing my body against his. “You finally passed the fat stage.”
I looked down again. I even tilted my head to the sides. “Does this mean your mom will stop questioning her existence if she can see the bump?”
“Yes. She’ll probably touch you a few times.”
“Nope.” I shoved his hands off me and pointed my finger at him. “I am not an interactive exhibition at a museum! I’m going to change!”
“Kali!” he laughed, following me up the stairs. “I’m fucking with you!”
“Nope! Between my mom and yours—nope!” I threw my hands in the air. “I am not doing this.” I tore my shirt off over my head and threw it on the bed. “It’s bad enough I can barely work because of safety regulations on a whole bunch of shit,” I continued. “Now, I can’t even host a birthday party without my fat being fondled? Nope. No way. I spent three hours in that kitchen today. Three. Hours! You know the last time I spent three hours in the kitchen?”
“You were trying to hide the fact you were binge-eating yogurt and cookies. Together.”
“You don’t get to judge me.” I jabbed my finger through the air. “I was hungry!”
He raised his eyebrows and smiled.
“I d
id not spend three hours in that fucking kitchen to have people poke my fat.”
“That fat is our daughter.”
“Still fat!” I poked my bare bump to prove my point, and got kicked harder than I ever had for my troubles. “Hey!” I said to my stomach. “What was that?”
“Did she kick you?”
“Kick me. Try to break out. Same difference.”
He came over and rested his hand on my stomach. “Do it again,” he said softly. “Poke her. Gently.”
I prodded the front of my stomach, and she kicked. Right where his fingertips were.
A smile spread across his face. “She’s telling you to get off her. Just poke her every time a mom touches you.”
I was torn between grinning that he’d felt her and glaring at his suggestion. I decided to pull my t-shirt over my head instead.
I’d bought it especially for this mutual meeting of our parents.
Brantley walked around me and read the shirt. “Hands off the bump,” he read.
“I wanted one that said, “Touch me and I’ll cut you like a fish,” but they didn’t have that on Zulily.”
He rubbed his hand over his face. “Just as well. Is everything ready? They should be back any minute.”
“Everything except my patience.”
“You’re testy today. Did Eli eat all the yoghurt again?”
I stared at him.
“Yet still so very, very beautiful,” he tried.
I still stared at him.
He laughed, drawing me close. “Come on, fatty. I know for a fact there are cookies in the kitchen. I hid them high up where the kids couldn’t get them.”
“And I just fell in love with you all over again.”
He kissed me, fighting a smile.
Downstairs, the door slammed open. “Mommmmmmmmmy!” Eli shouted.
I sighed. “There go my cookies.”
Brantley cupped my face. “Quick, distract them in the backyard, and I’ll get them for you.”
“I just swooned,” I said, kissing the corner of his mouth and heading for the stairs.
“Mommy! Where are you?” Ellie shrieked.
“Coming!” I shouted. “Let the fat lady walk!”
Brantley’s laughter chased me down the stairs.
Ellie frowned as I came into view. “You look fat today.”
“That’s not nice!” Eli shoved her. “Mommy looks pretty.”