27. Kaitlyn
27
KAITLYN
I woke up with a start when something hit my leg.
Where was I? I looked around the room in a panic. It slowly dawned on me that I was in bed with James, and we’d just been joined by a sleepy four-year-old. Harper wordlessly deposited herself in between us and pulled the sheet up with a little huff.
I remained frozen, watching as she drifted back to sleep immediately. Either Harper was sleepwalking and didn’t realize I was also in her daddy’s bed, or she didn’t care. Her little hand reaching out to touch my shoulder clued me in that it was option two.
My eyes still felt puffy from all the crying the day before. The stone in my chest remained, but it was slightly lighter thanks to James. He was a great listener, and hearing him talk about his own family struggles helped put mine into perspective. I was feeling more confident that my mom, sister, and I could come back from this mess, somehow.
I was starting to drift off when a little foot hit against my leg, hard. How could someone so small have such a strong kick? I moved away to give her room but somehow Harper still managed to reach me with another roundhouse kick. I sighed.
It was going to be a long night.
Even though James had blackout shades on the massive windows, the morning sun managed to seep in through the cracks. That, plus the fact that I hadn’t been able to fall into a deep sleep thanks to our little visitor meant I was wide awake at the literal crack of dawn. I glanced over at Harper, and it was as if the weight of my gaze was enough to rouse her. Her eyelids fluttered open.
She made a little grouchy noise when she saw me watching her.
“What?” I whispered.
“I’m hungry ,” she pouted.
“Well, good morning to you too,” I laughed softly.
“I want to get up,” she said in a too-loud voice.
“Shh, okay, okay, let’s go.”
Harper stood up and padded to the end of the bed then dropped to the ground with a thump. I glanced back at James and saw that he hadn’t moved. When he slept, he slept . I tried not to be jealous.
I took Harper’s hand and headed downstairs with her.
“You know Bernardo isn’t here yet, so I’ll have to fix something for you,” I cautioned.
Her bottom lip thrust out. “No.”
Someone had clearly gotten up on the wrong side of the bed.
“Why not? I can make you delicious scrambled eggs!”
“I hate eggs.”
“Harper, that’s not a nice thing to say. You can say you don’t prefer eggs, or you’d like something else, but don’t say ‘hate,’ okay? And I know for a fact that you do like eggs because I’ve seen you eat omelets.”
“Omelets aren’t eggs,” she said in a haughty voice, and I tried not to laugh.
“Oh really? So what are they?”
I pushed the swinging service door entrance into the kitchen.
“Omelets are omelets,” she said, dragging her feet.
I opted not to try to win a debate with the grumpy four-year-old.
“Well, I don’t know how to make an egg-free omelet, so let’s figure something else out. How about cereal?”
Harper shrugged and climbed on the little stepstool next to the marble counter that was her designated kitchen spot.
“Yes, I think cereal sounds perfect,” I answered myself. “But now I have to find it!”
I started opening and closing cupboards hoping Harper would pipe up and tell me where to look, but she was zoned out, sitting on the counter. I wasn’t worried about it. We’d had a great run of even moods lately, so we were bound to have a grumpy start at some point. It was typical behavior, all part of the growing process.
“Is the cereal in here ?” I asked dramatically, wrenching the giant refrigerator open.
“Nooo,” Harper said disdainfully. “Not in there.”
I peered inside and saw a tray of unbaked sticky buns Bernardo must have left for today’s breakfast.
“I think I found something even better than cereal,” I said as I pulled out the tray to show her.
“Yum!” She brightened. “Can you cook them?”
“You bet I can.”
I pulled out my phone and scrolled through a few sticky bun recipes to find average temperature and bake times and turned the oven on.
“Now for coffee. Harp, how many cups will you have this morning? Two? Three?”
I expected her to laugh at my silliness, but she frowned. “No, I don’t drink coffee! Juice !”
I stopped in my tracks. “Hey, hey, I understand you aren’t feeling like yourself this morning, but that’s no excuse for being rude. Please try again.”
Harper heaved a sigh like a teenager in training. “May I have juice please ?”
“Better, and yes you may. Would you like to sit at the table and color while the rolls are baking?”
She nodded.
“Okay, run to the classroom and grab the ones you want while I make coffee for everyone but you.”
I checked the time on my phone as Harper stomped out of the kitchen and down the hall. Bernardo wasn’t due to show up for another hour, and Vida was probably already bustling around the laundry room. I was happy James had been able to sleep through the restless night. He needed it.
It took me a few minutes to figure out the complicated coffee machine since it looked like it needed to be run by a trained barista. Or possibly a neurosurgeon. Harper settled at the table with her coloring books and crayons while I pushed various buttons on the thing until the rumbling of brewing started.
It was going to be a long day.
“Something smells amazing,” James said, strolling into the kitchen wearing pajama bottoms and a half-opened robe that showed off his torso. I had to glance away to keep from staring at it.
“Cinnamon rolls are in the oven,” I said, widening my eyes and nodding toward where Harper was coloring.
He glanced at his daughter and seemed to notice she hadn’t even raised her head up to greet him. “Um, hello over there? Good morning?”
She paused. “Hi Daddy. I’m working right now.”
“Ah, okay,” he said sagely. “I understand. Important coloring deadline on the horizon?”
“Yes, I have to finish this unicorn before the cinnamon rolls are done.”
James strolled over to look at the page she was working on. “Huh, you’re cutting it close, kid. Better get going on that tail.”
“ Daddy ,” Harper whined. “Don’t. Stop looking.” She covered the page with her hands. “Go away.”
James grimaced and pretended to run away from her. He walked over to where I was putting sugar in my coffee and kissed my cheek. I peeked at Harper, but she was too engrossed in coloring to notice.
“Yikes,” he whispered.
“Yup. Tread lightly today.”
The mood in the room lightened once the warm rolls hit the table. Harper finally managed to engage with us more normally, though she still seemed a little irritable. I watched her carefully as we ate, trying to determine what had set her off. Usually, I could tell what triggered Harper, but as far as I could tell, this morning’s bad attitude was a case of what I called unexplained grumblies.
James had left his phone on the counter behind us to keep from looking at it…but then his “red-alert” security ringtone sounded. We exchanged nervous glances.
“Excuse me ladies,” he said, pushing away from the table, clearly trying to keep his expression neutral. He answered. “Miguel, what’s up? Mm-hmm. No, I have no record of that.” Pause. “I absolutely didn’t okay it. We’re eating breakfast right now.” Another pause. “Please handle it for me and let them know I’ll be in touch to schedule something at a more reasonable hour.”
He glanced at me after he hung up, his face stormy.
“What’s up?” I asked, pretending to keep it light.
“Miguel wanted me to know that the D-R-E-S-H-E-R-S are at the gate and are R-E-F-U-S-I-N-G to go unless they get an audience.” He tilted his head toward Harper.
“Seriously? This early?” I couldn’t believe their presumption, grandparents or not. “And without a scheduled appointment? Oh no, that’s not going to fly.”
“Miguel will handle it. He’s excellent at de-escalation.” James reached for the tray of cinnamon rolls. “Okay, who wants seconds?”
Harper shook her head and kept coloring.
“More for me, I guess,” James said, stuffing one into his mouth.
We chatted about nothing, but I could tell the fact that Mitch and Maureen had shown up unannounced was still bothering him. The second red-alert ring happened a few minutes later, making us both jump.
“Hey Miguel,” James barked, frowning. “You’re kidding me. Okay, okay, give me fifteen minutes and I’ll get back to you.”
“The issue remains,” James said after he’d hung up, rubbing his forehead. “And I can’t afford to have them causing a scene. What do you think is best in this scenario? Can we make it happen quickly and be done with it? What’s your professional opinion?”
He was talking around the subject so as not to upset Harper. I glanced at her and noticed she was holding a red crayon in her fist, making a jagged scribble around the unicorn.
“It’s not ideal, especially given the ‘temperature’ this morning. I wouldn’t recommend it.”
“I feel like I have no choice. Especially with the hearing coming up.” I could hear barely hidden fury in his voice. “Would it cause backsliding if we made it happen? Quickly, in and out?”
I sighed. “If you and I can stay close for the duration we could probably get through it. I have some behavioral redirects that can help, too.”
He nodded, his mouth in a tight line. “Okay then. Can I tell…” he gestured to Harper.
“Gently, yes. Make it no big deal. W-A-I-T a bit before introducing the concept though, okay? So there’s no connection between discussions.”
James nodded again and then started talking about the unicorn Harper was coloring. A few minutes later, he steered the conversation in a new direction.
“You know who might like to see that picture?” he asked gently. “Your grandpa and grandma. I bet they’d even like to color with you!”
James glanced at me and I nodded, urging him on. Harper shrugged and kept coloring.
“You know what? They stopped by for a visit this morning. They want to see you! I’m going to go get changed and then I’ll bring them in to sit with us for a little bit. How does that sound?”
Harper paused then and started scribbling harder. I decided to step in.
“Harp, your dad and I will be right there with you. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, okay? I promise you’ll be okay.”
She nodded, still looking down at the page.
“Why don’t you and I change out of our pajamas, then we can go outside on the patio and wait for them,” I said.
Harper slid off her chair and walked to the back stairs without a word.
“Shit,” James exclaimed the second the door swung closed behind her. “I’m livid about this! How dare they?”
“I know, I know,” I said, trying to calm him. “They’re trying to catch you off guard. We’ll be fine. Give them a clear time limit, say we had plans which is why they need to schedule visits, and then we’ll be done. Thirty minutes max.”
James shook his head angrily. “It’s going to be very hard to be civil to them.”
“You have to…for her sake.” I reached out and gave his hand a comforting squeeze. “I’m going to help Harp dress, and we’ll meet you outside. It’s going to be okay, I’ll be your buffer.”
He finally looked up at me and his expression softened. “I’m going to need it.”
“Thirty minutes and we’re done.” I leaned down and kissed him. “Now go put some clothes on before we make them wait even longer.”