Chapter 12 #2
“Wha…? Huh?” I was so confused. I remembered wandering away from the dining room, but that was the last thing. There was a vague recollection of a conversation about a quick lie-down before I called for an Uber, but the actual calling wasn’t coming back to me.
“It’s time to go home,” Daddy repeated. I heard the commotion of the other boys behind him, but all I wanted to do was watch my Daddy.
He’d squatted down next to me so we were eye level.
His eyes were crinkled and soft with a little smile twitching his lips.
Those pink lips that were a teeny-tiny too thin but worked perfectly with his scruff-covered jaw were too much of a temptation.
Almost like it wasn’t under my control, I reached out and traced my finger across the seam.
Daddy pursed his lips. Twice. Disappointed didn’t begin to cover it when he straightened and reached out a hand to pull me out of the chair.
“C’mon, sleepy boy, you can sleep it off at home.”
The effort it took to sit up was too much for me. My legs weren’t working right. Maybe they were broken? Maybe they’d forgotten how to work?
“Okay, well, if you’re not gonna wake up, then we’ll go with Plan B.”
My body always gave up the truth before my mouth did, especially around him.
“What was Plan A?”
“You standing up.”
“You mad my legs aren’t working?” I interrogated him with suspicion.
“Your legs work fine. You’re just a little sleepy.”
“Why I sleepy?”
“Probably something to do with the bottles of wine you all polished off,” Daddy said dryly.
I knew I was drunk, but a deeper part of me knew the real reason I melted was because it was Daddy taking care of me.
“Nooooo, that’s not it.”
“If you say so, bub. C’mon, let’s go.” And then Daddy scooped me up like I was a princess. Being lifted like that made the world tilt in a warm and safe way that I hadn’t felt in years.
I tried to imagine myself in a pink princess dress, and it made me giggle.
The silly thought of having one of my own fluttered up, soft and secret, and I hoped he couldn’t read it on my face.
I wanted to tell him everything, but the words tangled in my throat, warm and clumsy.
“I wish I had a pink princess dress. I’d look so cute. ”
“You sure would, sweetheart.”
Since he agreed with me, I snuggled closer and let him move me. If my legs didn’t work later, I’d tell him he could move me again. He’d be my very own mover arounder.
Daddy said something to Barrett on the way out the door, but my ears weren’t working either, so I just wrapped my arms around his shoulders and snuggled my face into his neck. When I looked up, he’d juggled me into his car, and I was already buckled in.
Oh no. My whole body was breaking because no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t open my eyes.
I tried and tried, but when I went to open ’em with my fingers, my hand flopped down.
My ears still were okay because I heard Daddy’s soft chuckle in the quiet of the car.
The car traveled whisper-quiet through the streets.
For once, it wasn’t raining, so not even the swish of the wipers filled the silence.
Daddy’s hand resting on my knee anchored me in the moment and his seat.
“Bub, go back to sleep. We’re almost home, and you can sleep it off there.”
“Daddy, I’m breaking. My eyes don’t work…my hands…” My voice trailed off when my hands flopped uselessly in my lap. It was a sad, sad day. Night. Whatever.
“Yeah, they aren’t working so great tonight, but I bet they’ll come back even better tomorrow.” It almost sounded like he was laughing at me, but that wouldn’t be nice, and I had a nice Daddy, so I must’ve been wrong.
“I hope so,” I agreed with a solemn nod. When the car came to a stop, I glanced through the window. We weren’t in a parking lot, and there weren’t any buildings.
“Daddy, you got losted,” I said when I rolled my head against the seat, resting in his direction.
“Are you sure? I think I know where I am.”
“Nope, you’re losted.
“Why do you think so?”
“’Cause this not my house. I thought you liked me, Daddy.” Yes, I was pouting, but it didn’t matter.
“If I were lost, which I’m not, why would that mean I didn’t like you?”
“’Cause if you liked me, you’d know where I live, but you don’t know where I live, so that must mean you don’t like me, ’cause if you liked me, you’d know.” That little bit of talking was too much. It hurt my brain to think anymore tonight, but it was definitely the truth.
“Er, I’m not sure I follow that circle, but I like you very much, and I’m not lost at all. We’re at my house, and I know where I live, so it’s all good.”
“You did it. Good job.”
I tried to clap, but my hands missed each other entirely and fell back down. Daddy’s car was so much better to snuggle into than mine was. The warm leather seats warmed my back entirely.
“How about we get you inside and get you into bed? We gotta remember to get some Tylenol and water in you first though. Otherwise, your hangover is gonna be ugly.”
“You think I’m ugly, Daddy?”
“What? No! Your hangover might be though.”
“Oh, that don’t matter cause I don’t get ’em.”
“Aren’t you a lucky one? Mine used to be awful. Could you just humor me and take it anyway?”
Daddy asked so nicely that I had to agree. “Okay,” I sang, “but I won’t need it.”
He squeezed my hand and butterflies swooped around in my chest.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I wasn’t too far gone to realize he could be the person I wanted to find.
Daddy was steady and kind and liked me. But moving on was such a part of me that tonight my brain couldn’t even start to wrap around the idea of not doing that.
But what if I wasn’t what he wanted to find?
I’d be so sad when he tossed me aside. That would crush me.
And if the boys said I couldn’t hang around with them, that’d be double bad.
No tears. Please. Please. Please. No tears.
“Why are you crying? Are you feeling sick?”
“No, I’m not. The boys won’t let me come back anymore, and I had so much fun, and I forgot my gingerbread house made with crackers, and you don’t like me.”
Once the tears started, I couldn’t stop them, and I felt so foolish and dumb, and I wanted to go back to sleep because in my dreams, Daddy and I were at the beach, and that was better.
Daddy’s hand threaded through my hair before coming to rest at the nape of my neck. He slowly massaged the muscles. The heat from the seat mixed with the heat of his touch, somehow leaving me wrung out and needy.
“Bub, let’s get you inside and under the covers. I think you’ve had enough for being awake for one day.”
“Yeah,” I murmured, “I wanna take a nap. You wanna take a nap too?”
“Sure,” he answered before sliding out of his seat and coming around to open my door. “But I was thinking it might be a little longer than a nap. The whole night sounds better to me.”
I gave a small nod obediently and slid out of the front seat.
My legs were wobbly, but I was able to stand well enough to walk into the house.
Daddy led me straight upstairs to his bedroom.
Normally, when I was over, I’d think about how much Owen could do with this place given half the chance, but tonight all I thought about was lying back down and closing my eyes.
In his bedroom, Daddy pushed me gently onto the bed.
He knelt in front of me and took off my shoes and socks.
He moved away to grab a T-shirt, Rainers of course, and some sweats before returning to me.
He moved me like a rag doll while undressing me.
He positioned me this way and that, and I studied the room.
It was undeniably his. Hockey sticks were stacked haphazardly in the corner with a gear poking out of the bag on the floor.
A stack of files was on the desk in the corner, along with his laptop.
The comforter under me was a puffed quilt in dark blue and silky smooth.
The heavy wood furniture was unmistakenly masculine and undoubtedly expensive. I wasn’t sure I’d ever fit in.
“Hey, you. Here’s some pain meds. Drink the whole glass,” Daddy ordered.
The care and concern in his voice soothed me. The wine haze had begun fading and a bone-deep tired filled the well instead. I’d been so busy studying the room that I didn’t notice when he left and then returned.
I gratefully accepted them both. When I tried to take the pills, he waved my hand away and slipped them between my lips instead.
The small moment of caretaking shook me, and I tried to remember anyone in my life being so gentle with me.
Nothing came to mind. Even my parents were more “brush off the dirt and get back on the bike” people.
They loved me but weren’t believers in coddling.
And that’s exactly what Daddy did when I was around him, regardless of my headspace. He coddled me. It was…nice in the mostest wonderful way. It felt like a holiday you saw on the cards that didn’t look like real life because it wasn’t.