Jack Griggs
Hurdle number one was complete, and that was to get Carly to see that I couldn’t possibly cope without her. In truth, there was no acting required. I don’t think I could have coped without her. It took about two hours for her to thaw out and acknowledge that I was there, too, and once she did we had a great time.
Carly played with Livvy while I cooked us a meal. I managed to scrape enough ingredients together for pasta with a ragu sauce, and as I spotted some part baked rolls, I even rustled up some homemade garlic bread. I cracked open a couple of bottles of beer and handed one to her as she sat on the floor with a kid who seemed more intent on chewing bits of wooden jigsaw puzzle than helping put them together.
When I went back to the kitchen area, I kept stealing glances at her across the room. She seemed so at peace and happy to be right where she was. I realized for the first time that so was I. I was back in a house I’d loved living in with my brother, doing something so normal that I had to work hard to push aside the usual feelings of jealousy. I felt at peace and didn’t want to retreat back into the miserable bastard that I’d become. I aimlessly stood stirring sauce and mixing parsley and garlic with butter, coming to terms with the fact that all my current happiness was wrapped up in Carly. She was the one who had helped me breathe again, she was the one who gave my mundane life purpose, and more than anything, I wanted this slice of make believe to be real so much it was killing me to remind myself it was temporary.
This wasn’t my life.
I didn’t have a wife and beautiful daughter I could call my own. I didn’t have anyone I cared about to come home to, to share my day with, and I’d never felt like I needed one until Carly had burst into Dooley’s bar that night and asked me why I hated her.
I didn’t hate her because I didn’t truly know her.
I knew we’d have the odds stacked against us, but more than anything, I wanted this fantasy to be real. I wanted to see Carly on the floor, wrestling and giggling with my own child. I wanted to sneak glances at her and have my breath hitch because I was reminded this wasn’t a dream and they were both mine. I wanted to look at that woman and thank the fucking moon and stars that she’d chosen me over the hundreds of other guys who would swap places with me in a heartbeat.
“Dinner is about ten minutes away,” I said loudly in her direction.
I watched as she picked up Livvy and put her on her feet, asking her if she was hungry and wanted something to eat. When Carly got closer, I sensed her awkwardness about playing happy families when it wasn’t real.
“As per the instructions, I’ve made her some oatmeal. It’s in the microwave and just needs a reheat. I’ll get that, and you secure her in that contraption by the table.”
I pointed at the high chair with trepidation, causing Carly to snort and shake her head. By the time I was dishing up the meal, Livvy was secure, and when I finally placed a dull looking bowl of oats in front of her, she seemed less than impressed.
“This smells delicious, thank you, Jack.” Carly had been raised properly; her manners would always win over when someone had showed her a kindness.
“It’s the least I can do.”
“I had no idea you could cook, such hidden talents.”
Her innocent comment caused me to raise my brow and smile in amusement. She knew all about my hidden talents and that only caused her pale cheeks to blush up. Livvy chose that moment to hurl a spoonful of oatmeal in my direction. It landed with a thud on the table by the side of my beer. “It seems little Livvy is not a fan of that plaster of Paris. How about some garlic bread to get those chomping teeth round?”
“I… ah… wouldn’t do that,” Carly told me, looking wary.
“Nonsense, what the girl wants, she gets. Don’t you?”
I handed her a piece and she sniffed it, effectively covering her nose, and licked it before shivering and then shoveling a corner in her mouth. Not long after, her little place setting was covered in it, but she seemed to be enjoying it. Carly and I continued to eat in a comfortable silence and every so often, I’d place a few pasta shells and a fresh piece of bread on Livvy’s tray until she decided throwing it was a lot more fun.
“I’m going to suggest you clear this up while I bathe her,” Carly told me, standing up to take the wriggle monster from the harness tethering her to the chair.
“But I cooked. I want tub fun, too,” I sulked.
This time it was Carly’s turn to raise a brow. She’d never appeared more responsible than she had tonight and I loved that it showed a level of maturity that made the age gap irrelevant. “Bath time fun, eh? I thought you needed my help for the bathing section of the evening?”
“If that kid was in bed, I’d be wrestling you into a tub alright,” I murmured, causing her to stop. “You are right, though. You go get the tub ready and I’ll load the dishwasher. One condition, though?”
“Which is?”
“I get to give her the rubber duckies. I want to see her face when I hand them over.”
Carly snorted and laughed again. “Sure thing. Although, remind me again who’s the kid here?”
I licked my tongue out at her and ignored her comment. I started to clear the fake family dinner away and watched as she slumped a pasta/garlicky kid on her hip and wandered off. She was something else and the more normal time I spent with her, the worse my obsession was becoming. I rushed through loading the dirty plates in the dishwasher and got to the bathroom just as my naked, chubby niece was being lowered into the bubbles. Her excitement was unbelievable. I defy anyone not to smile with joy at seeing something so simple. No wonder Jake hated being away from her. This was the time you’d never get back with your kids.
At the side of the tub there was a large bucket full of plastic animals. I knelt down beside Carly and started to introduce them one by one to the water, calling them by silly names and using a babyish voice. Livvy was over the moon with my participation and water was going everywhere. After fifteen minutes, Carly got up. “Where are you going?”
“She needs stuff. Towel, diaper, bed time suit, that kind of thing?”
“Fuck yeah, good thinking. Oopsie. Naughty Uncle Jack dropping the f-bomb. Tell Aunt Carly to hurry up back.”
Carly was gone ages and when she returned, she had an odd look on her face. I had my hands full keeping Livvy from trying to do a Michael Phelps impersonation in the water, but still needed to ask. “You okay?”
“Yes. Everything is laid out for you. I’m going to head off. Just make sure you dry in her skin folds.”
“Wait! What?”
I stood up to run after her. “Don’t leave the baby in the water,” she said confidently.
“Damn it. Wait!” I shouted again. I went to grab Livvy but it was like wrestling a wet seal, and by the time I actually got some decent purchase on the kid, I was as wet as she was. And then I heard the front door being closed.
“Oh, kiddo. I’ve never changed a diaper or done any of this, so I’m glad you’re too young to remember. I get the impression that Aunty Carly spied her chance for a clean exit and took it.”
I knew deep down that was exactly what she’d done.
“Never mind. We’ll get her tomorrow. With my charm and your good looks, she’s a goner for sure.”