Boxer

“I don’t know how to thank you for everything today.”

Jocelyn wipes a hand across her forehead. “Well, you threw one helluva unicorn party. Heckuva party,” she corrects with a glance at Charli. “Sorry.”

But Charli’s too busy stomping on bubble wrap from Uncle Steve to notice. Steve thinks that’s the most clever present of all. Then again, it’s the only thing Charli’s still playing with, so maybe he’s onto something.

“You didn’t have to stay all day. It means a lot.”

Her cheeks blossom to a light pink. “I hadn’t realized it would be ovary central. You’re in high demand, Boxer.”

“Ovary central?”

“Six homemade cakes from the first five guests?” She raises an eyebrow. “You’re a hot commodity. My store-bought thing pales in comparison, sorry.”

“Stop that.” I hesitantly reach up, squeezing her shoulders in my palms. “I’m the one who needs to be apologizing for stealing your day. Without you, the party would’ve been rotten.”

“Did Charli have fun?”

“What do you think?”

I steer Jocelyn so she, too, can see Charli dancing around on fat little bubbles, squealing when they pop beneath her toes. Jocelyn smiles and leans against me, which is the whole reason I’ve tucked her there in the first place. If I could extend this moment and not make things awkward, I’d do it. It feels right.

She sighs, a light, whispering sound that eases from her lips like a breeze from the ocean. Her head tilts, coming to rest against my shoulder, and I freeze.

Maybe she’s feeling it too—the way we fit together in this moment. I hardly know the woman, yet she’s given up half of her weekend to throw my daughter a birthday party.

Look, I’m not blind. I realize that a handful of the women lingered today because of me and not my daughter. I might not have graduated Valedictorian of my class, but I could tell you the one thing they all had in common, and it’s that they were the single mothers. Most of which have been on the prowl for as long as I’ve known them.

I don’t blame them one bit. I suppose I’m on the prowl too, but I have a target in my sights. Strangely, this house feels a little bit more complete with the three of us here—Charli, Joss, and myself.

“Dad!” Charli tires of exploding bits of plastic and pops her head up. “Guess what?”

Her bright blue eyes are a jolt of electricity as Jocelyn and I straighten. She pulls her head from my shoulder, stepping back and adjusting her clothes as I put a hand on my hip, clear my throat, and get my bearings. “What’s that?”

“It’s almost time for birthday movie night!” She twirls, then lands facing Jocelyn. “Are you going to stay?”

“Oh, I couldn’t—” Jocelyn starts.

“But we watch one movie every year on my birthday.” Charli has an argument ready. “Last year we watched Beauty and the Beast.”

“And the year before that,” I add. “And the year before that. The agenda never changes.”

“Well, of course not.” Jocelyn turns to me in mock horror. “Beauty and the Beast is the best pick out there.”

“It’s your favorite, too?” Charli asks this like it’s an interview question.

“Most definitely.”

“Then you must stay,” I tell her. “I insist.”

“It’s already late—”

“So a little later won’t hurt.”

She gives me a complicated expression, almost exasperated at my persistence. It’s not like I can justify it. I just don’t particularly want her to leave yet.

“Twist my arm,” she says finally. “Do we get an extra slice of cake?”

I instruct the girls to get cozy on the couch. This movie is our birthday tradition, and it’s the first thing Charli sets out in the morning.

I pop it into the DVD player and grab the fluffy blanket Marie keeps tucked in the closet. When I return, Charli has picked a seat on the couch next to Jocelyn. There’s no space for me in my usual seat.

“Where am I supposed to sit?” I tease, tossing the blanket over the pair of girls. “You took my spot, Charli.”

“Should I move?” Joss’s neck jerks up. “Did I steal your spot? I can move.”

“No.” Charli rests a hand on her knee. “Stay.”

Joss raises her eyebrows at me, her lips quirked into a smile. “Yes, ma’am.”

Since the ladies don’t seem to miss me, I beg off to put together a plate of food. Both women had a list of snack requests longer than my CVS receipt. And CVS receipts are the longest receipts I’ve ever seen. Like, three feet long.

I pause for a moment, watching the back of their heads in the doorway as popcorn pops in the background. I hit the lights as the movie comes on, but it doesn’t pause Charli’s jabbering for even a second.

It does, however, catch Jocelyn’s attention, and she glances over my daughter’s head to find me staring back at her. This time, she doesn’t blush. She hardly looks uncomfortable. If anything, she belongs here.

“Cute,” a voice says from behind, startling me. “They seem to get along well.”

“What the hell, Steve? Stop creeping around.”

“I’m your guest. Aren’t I allowed to pop into the kitchen for a bite to eat?”

Because he’s my brother, and he’s the only option I have for company at the moment, I pull open the fridge and grab two beers.

Steve gives an approving nod, retrieving the bottle opener from the drawer nearest him and sending it sailing across the table. “You going to tell her tonight?”

“What?”

“How you feel?”

I sip my beer. I don’t respond; I don’t know what to say.

“Grow a pair,” Steve says. “One week, hermano.”

“I have a pair,” I retort. “It’s more complicated than that.”

He takes a step back and raises his hands. I’ve always been bigger than Steve, and he’s always been smarter than me. Normally, we didn’t capitalize on the other’s weakness, but sometimes it just happened. Apparently, when I’m angry, I’m intimidating.

“Relax,” he tells me. “I’m trying to help.”

“Shut up.”

“You want to talk, obviously.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want your opinions.”

“I’m shutting up.” Steve takes another step back. “How is this situation so complicated?”

“I’m a package deal. Me and Charli, we come together. When a woman dates me, she dates my daughter, too. If things get serious, it changes for our family. I have more to consider than myself.”

“Would you have already slept with her if it weren’t for Charli?”

“This isn’t about sleeping together.”

“You care about her?”

“I can’t stop thinking about her,” I snarl. “If I could, would I be sitting here talking to you about it?”

Steve shrugs. “I’m just here for the beer. And the cake.”

“Next time, bring a real present.”

“She played with the bubble wrap longer than anything else, didn’t she?”

“That’s not the point.” I take another swig and slam the bottle onto the island. I’m looking for reasons to be pissed now; I know that. It feels good. But it doesn’t accomplish anything, and that ticks me off more. “What would you do?”

“Me? I’d ask her out,” Steve says. “She’d turn me down, but I don’t mind trying.”

The note of ambivalence in Steve’s voice is enough to calm me down. I know he’d like to find a woman to balance him out, a family, a soul mate, but he’s had horrible luck with women. Where they tend to flock around me at times—thanks to my name and my career—they tend to overlook my brother. Which sucks because he’s a great guy.

And now, I feel even worse for complaining to him. “Steve, you’re going to find a great girl—”

“I’m not looking for sympathy,” Steve says. “But you’ve gotta admit there’s a logic to my reasoning. The worst she’ll say is no, right?”

I make a show of gathering a variety of snacks onto the tray and dumping the popcorn into a bowl. Before we part ways, I grab a second beer and hand it to my brother.

“Thanks for coming,” I say. “Feel like watching a movie?”

“Not really. But I’ll be here if you decide to drive your friend home and need some time alone, away from the house.”

I meet his gaze for a long second. “Thanks. For the record, I meant it, too. You’ll find someone.”

“You’re getting sappy in your old age.”

“You’re just getting old.”

“Night, asshole.”

“Sweet dreams, buttercup,” I call, a smirk on my face as we part ways and I head toward the living room. I begin an announcement to the crowd of ladies there. “Food’s ready...”

I trail off at the sight of two heads tilted against one another, two sets of light snores reaching my ears. I take a step backward, slowly retreating from the room until I can set the tray back onto the kitchen counter. Then, I take tiny steps into the living room and situate myself in the big fat armchair.

It’s there that I alternate between watching the end of Beauty and the Beast and the two women on the couch. There are similarities between the two ladies, the hinted smile on their lips, even in sleep. The blonde hair—one set of locks curled into spirals, the second straight as my hockey stick. Long, gorgeous lashes resting against perfectly rosy cheeks. If I didn’t know better, I’d think they might be related.

When I start to feel awkward watching Jocelyn take shallow breaths, I turn my attention back to the television and watch the beast transform into a prince. I sympathize with the guy, today of all days. Sometimes it’s easier to be the beast than a prince.

I let the credits roll for some time before I stand and rest my fingers on Jocelyn’s shoulder. She squirms closer to me, nuzzling against the heat of my skin as I lean in to whisper against her ear. “Let me drive you home.”

“Mmm,” she murmurs against the couch pillow.

“You’re welcome to sleep here,” I say, my heart racing. “Let me get you a blanket.”

“Blanket...” She snuggles closer into the couch, and Charli sighs and eases closer to her, too.

I pull the blankets up higher onto their chests, wrangling limbs into position to prevent stiffness in the morning. I try to lift Charli into my arms, but she’s having none of it. She moans, groans, and swipes at me in her half sleepy state as I try to pull her off the couch until finally, I give up.

Instead, I plant a kiss on each of their foreheads, grab a second blanket for myself, and stretch out on the La-Z-Boy.

Tonight has turned into one huge sleepover, and I have Beauty and the Beast to thank.