by Sean Michael
“Popsy buyed you a robe and unders and jammies and house shoes!” That was little Rosie. “We helped pick them out!”
“You did? Thank you.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek. Then he said fuck it to himself and gave Ryan a hug, stealing a kiss.
“You stinky, man.” Ryan laughed, kissing him back. “Come on. Let’s go home.”
“Those are the best words.” He fell into step with them. “I can’t believe you did this. That banner is amazing.”
“We made it ourselves,” Daffy said. “Melly wrote the letters, and Daisy did the flowers.”
“And who did the glitter? Because that’s my favorite part.” It had made the sign.
“Me and Rosie and Popsy!” Daffy looked so pleased with herself.
“Good job, guys. Can we hang it in the living room?” Would it be okay if he made decorating decisions in Ryan’s house? He hoped so. God, he liked this guy and his family.
“Above the TV, Popsy?”
“Whatever you guys want, honey.”
“Yay!” Rosie clapped as she skipped along.
Alex tilted his head. “Is that nail polish, Ryan?”
“Huh?”
“Sparkleberry Bright,” Mel said, words so dry they squeaked.
He took Ryan’s hand and lifted it so he could see the nails. Sure enough, there was shiny pink nail polish on them. “They’re… uh… lovely.” He bit the inside of his lips.
“If Daffy’d had five more minutes, he’d be sporting the matching eye shadow,” Mel added.
“Makeup day?” he asked.
“Spa day!” Rosie sounded so tickled.
“That sounds like fun. And clean. It sounds clean.” He laughed. A spa day sounded like bliss after three weeks of no running water, no showers, barely enough to sponge wash. “Were there cucumbers for everyone’s eyes?”
“Uh-huh. We washed all our hairs, and then we had facials, and then we did our nails.”
“I hope you left some water for me. I need a good long shower with lots and lots and lots of soap.”
“Why’re you so dirty?” Rosie asked.
“Rosie.” Ryan shot him an apologetic look.
Alex waved it off. “She’s right—I’m filthy. The place where I was had a hurricane, and all the plumbing was destroyed. That means they don’t have running water for showers, baths, toilets, washing dishes or clothes, not even for drinking. We had to bring drinking water in with us.”
“Popsy?”
“There was a bad storm, baby girl. And they didn’t have water coming out of the faucets, so Alex went to help.”
“Oh. That sounds yucky.”
“It was very yucky. And I’m yucky. I need more than just my hair to be washed.”
They got to Ryan’s minivan, and he helped get all the girls in and settled.
The trip to Ryan’s was peaceful, quiet, the girls’ chatter oddly comforting.
There was always a bit of a disconnect when Alex came back, but with Ryan and the girls to welcome him, he felt less out of step than usual. He kept glancing over at Ryan, admiring him. He looked good enough to eat.
“I bought stuff to make fajitas for supper. Do you like those? I have beef and chicken both.”
“That sounds amazing. Honestly.” He’d been living off MREs for three weeks; he would have been happy with anything. That it was something that he really liked anyway was a bonus.
“Cool. The girls all love fajitas. They can make them like they want to.”
“Yeah, that’s got to be handy.” He had no idea if the girls had similar tastes, or if Ryan made them different things at dinner. Despite the fact he’d stayed with them, they’d all been in various stages of sick, and he couldn’t judge anything from that. “Have you got any picky eaters?”
“Not really. Daisy can be when she’s unhappy, but not really. We’re simple eaters.”
“You like fish,” Alex pointed out, remembering their first date. “I’m not sure that’s simple. Lots of people don’t like fish.” He knew he was babbling, but if he didn’t keep talking, he was going to fall asleep.
“I don’t like fishes,” someone said from the back seat.
Mel shot back with, “You like fish sticks.”
“Oh! I do like fishes.”
Alex chuckled; they were very cute. “What’s everyone’s favorite food?” His laughter increased when they all answered at once. “One at a time, please.”
“Rosie, you go first,” Ryan said.
“I like onion rings and fried chickens!”
“Mine is noodles.” That was Daffy.
“Chicken fingers and ranch dressing.” Daisy was the quietest of the bunch.
Mel chuckled. “Pizza, of course.”
“I love lasagna, I think.” Ryan winked over at him. “What’s yours?”
“A good thick, juicy burger and crispy french fries on the side.” Just the thought made him drool. He liked to have a steak when he got back from being gone a long time, but his favorite at-home-whenever meal was definitely a burger and fries. No tired-out, overcooked burgers and no limp-not-crispy french fries either. Unless they were in a poutine, he guessed. “You guys know what a poutine is?”
“Uh-huh. Popsy and Daffy share one sometimes.”
“Cool. I like those too. I like it when they do riff on it, as well, but they can’t really call those poutine. I had one with lobster and hollandaise instead of gravy once that was so good—but it totally was not poutine.”
“Do you like lopsters, Popsy?”
“Never tried one, baby. They seem complicated.”
“They’re not as hard to get into as crab legs. Man, those things are good, but I’m not sure they’re worth the work. I like scallops—they’re sweet and delicious and there’s no fuss.”
“We’re having fajitas tonight, though. With cream and cheese.” Rosie sounded so sure.
“Oh yeah, but it’s fun to learn about what foods everyone likes the best, isn’t it? I’m looking forward to the fajitas,” he assured her.
“They’re yummy. They look like fat worms.”
“I guess they kind of do. Would you eat them if they really were fat worms?” He’d been in places where grubs were a delicacy. He always tried the weird foods put in front of him, but he’d never acquired a taste for any of them—the worms and grubs being the worst.
“No!” That was definite.
“What if that was all you had to eat?” He wondered if someone Rosie’s age could imagine a situation like that and see how having at least the grubs was better than not having anything at all.
“Then I would tell Popsy, and he would fix it.”
Well there was his answer. And a good one too. He smiled over at Ryan. “Popsy can fix anything, eh?”
“Popsy will do his best, right, kiddos?”
A chorus of “yeses” went up from the back of the minivan, and Alex laughed.
“You’re a great dad.”
“Thank you. I’m doing my best.”
Alex wasn’t sure if he’d dozed off or not, but suddenly they were pulling up outside Ryan’s place, and he blinked, shook himself a little. No falling asleep.
“Come on. Shower and a nap, huh?”
“Yeah, that sounds perfect. Especially as I have something clean to put on when I get out of the shower.” It felt good, knowing he was going to get really clean for the first time in three weeks, and he wasn’t going to have to put dirty clothes on after.
“I’ll start washing up for you. No problem.”
The house hadn’t changed a bit—it was pure, wonderful chaos.
“You are a laundry angel.” He grabbed his laptop from his bag and his wallet and passport from his jeans pocket. “I’ll leave my dirty clothes outside the bathroom door?”
“Works for me. Go enjoy your shower.” Ryan took a quick kiss.
He would have loved a longer one, but there were kids around, and he stank to high heaven.
He squirmed out of his dirty clothes and left them
outside the bathroom door, then turned on the taps, groaning at the sight of hot water pouring out of the faucet. He made sure the water was running nice and hot, then turned the lever to shower.
Taking a moment, he took a deep breath, then stepped into the water, moaning loudly as hot, clean water hit him.
Damn. Damn, this was…. Ryan was good to him.
The door opened and closed, and he peeked out, smiling to see a pile of towels, a bottle of Coke, and a Coffee Crisp bar waiting for him.
More than good, Ryan was amazing. There was a reason why he’d held on, wanted to stay in contact with Ryan after only a couple of dates and some time spent together. He’d recognized this in the man. Hell, his great kids spoke volumes of his character.
Alex’s stomach snarled at him, but he ignored it in favor of letting the water sluice over him. The liquid pooling around his feet and going down the drain was not clear. He washed himself vigorously not once, not twice, but three times before he started to feel clean. Then he shampooed his hair, rinsed, and repeated. Twice. Another round with his skin and the soap, and the water finally ran clear. He was finally clean.
Closing his eyes, he let the hot water run over him for a few more minutes before he turned it off and stepped out. Towels first, and he wrapped himself up in one and dried his hair with another. Then he sat on the john and grabbed the chocolate bar, snarfed it down. Sweet and chocolate and so good as it hit his belly. He opened the Coke and drank half the bottle before taking a breath. Oh yeah.
That’s when he noticed a pair of Thor pajamas under the towels. He chuckled as he put them on.
Oh man. He might live.
He opened the door to the sound of laughter, and he followed that down to the kitchen where the whole family was making cookies.
Ryan looked up. “Better?”
“You have no idea. And I’m presentable for public now. Well, maybe not public, but I won’t make any of you run away gagging at least. I must have brought half of the dirt in Haiti back on my body.” He chuckled, moving to sit as a wave of tired hit him.
“Well, you’re welcome to the bed. We’re more than capable of being quiet, right, girls?”
“I’m pretty sure quiet isn’t going to be necessary.” He chuckled and shook his head. “I think I’ll stay down here if that’s okay with you guys. I don’t want to sleep hard and then be unable to drop back off later tonight. As long as you guys don’t mind my dozing off occasionally?” Besides, he wanted to soak up the happiness and normality.
“You can help me make cookies.” Rosie came to him and climbed up in his lap.
“Rosie! Alex is tired.”
“I am, but if you have something very easy for me to do, I could probably manage it.” Preferably something where he got to stay seated, but if he had to get up, he imagined for this little sweetheart, he would. He leaned in and whispered loudly, “I’ve never made cookies before.”
“Never ever?” Her eyes were big as saucers.
“Nope. Not once.”
“Popsy? Poor Alex. He can’t make cookies.”
“Then you will have to teach him how.”
He laughed, suddenly invigorated by being clean, having people to come home to, and Rosie’s desire to teach him how to make cookies. Either that or the Coke and chocolate bar were kicking in.
Rosie nodded. “First, Popsy makes the goo with Melly. Melly and Popsy work the oven too. Ovens are hot and we can’t, ’kay?”
“Got it. Popsy and Melly are the only ones who can touch the oven. So what do we do?”
“We take turns. Daisy scoops. Daffy squarshes. We put the sprinkles.”
“I think we have the best job, Rosie.” He could totally handle helping to put on sprinkles.
“Uh-huh. Mine is most ’portant.”
“Squashing is pretty special too, Rosie!”
“I’m sure it is, Daffy. Maybe next time I can help you squish—this time I get to help Rosie with the sprinkles.” He loved that Ryan had them each believing their job was the best. He was quite the diplomat.
They worked in a little assembly line, with Ryan and Mel actually working. It was adorable how Mel managed to act blasé and take care at the same time.
He wondered how hard it had been for her, to have her father’s full attention only to have it suddenly quartered with three new sisters suddenly in their lives. He gave her a smile when their eyes met. He’d bet Ryan was so proud of her.
She grinned, then went back to work, pulling cookies off to cool.
“Cookies are hard work,” he told Rosie. He knew it was just because he was tired, but she felt extra heavy at the moment, and doling out sprinkles was almost above his current abilities. He was going to have to move to the living room and catnap on the couch.
“Uh-huh. Popsy, can I take the man for a nap?”
Oh, sweet, wonderful girl.
“You, Rosie, are my favorite. And I think you should call me Alex instead of ‘the man’ if that’s okay with your Popsy.”
“Of course. Come on, I’ll cover you both up.” Ryan smiled. “Rosie likes her naps.”
“You’re a smart girl. Are we napping on the couch?” He set her on her feet and stood. Honestly, the stairs seemed like an awful lot of unnecessary work at this point.
She nodded and tugged him over to that amazing, comfortable couch.
He sat—no, he sprawled—on it, his head resting against the back. It felt like the cushions were welcoming him home, pulling him in to stay. “Oh yeah. I may not move again.”
“Turn on Sofia, Popsy.” Rosie pointed like the princess she was.
“Yes, dear. Covers. Cartoons. Everyone settled?”
“Uh-huh.” Settled and already three-quarters of the way to sleep. He had no idea what a Sophia was, but he figured it wasn’t going to matter. He was going to be asleep before he found out.
Ryan kissed his forehead. “Rest, honey.”
He smiled, the feeling of that kiss chasing him into his dreams.
Chapter Seventeen
RYAN DID his bedtime routine for the under-ten set, baths and teeth, hair and stories. All the girls were ramped up with their company in the house, but they managed not to hurt themselves. And so far there hadn’t been any bad arguments either.
As he was reading their bedtime story, Alex popped his head around the door.
“Hey, sorry I fell asleep again after supper. You need any help with anything here?”
“Nah, I’m okay. We’re having our story.”
“Can I sit and listen too?” Alex asked, coming in, his pajamas rumpled after his afternoon and evening napping on the couch.
“Of course.” He wasn’t sure Alex wasn’t going to lie down with the wee ones and fall asleep. But if Alex wanted to risk it….
Alex sat at the end of the bed, propping himself up with one arm and gazing at him as raptly as any of the girls.
Ryan started in again, doing voices and being the most dramatic he could be, all three girls listening happily. Whenever he glanced up, he found Alex watching him, a bright smile on his face.
He reached the end of the chapter and closed the book quietly because Daffy and Rosie had crashed out.
Alex got up and stretched, and they left the room together. “They’re so great. Thanks for coming to meet me and bringing me home. Being here is so much better than all alone at my aunt’s place.”
“I know it’s busy here, but… you sounded lonely.”
“Yeah, I kind of was. I know we haven’t known each other very long, but you’re special. Your whole family is.”
“I appreciate it. You want to come sit while I do dishes and all, or are you heading to bed?”
“Oh, I think I’ve napped enough to be able to keep you company for a while.” Alex slid his hand along Ryan’s back, warm through his T-shirt. Oh, that felt good. He let himself press against Ryan’s hand and relax.
Alex shifted and took a kiss, then leaned their foreheads together. “I suppose we have to get the dishes done,
huh?”
“I do, yeah, and I need to make sure Mel’s homework is done.”
“Cool. I can be cool.” Alex grinned, sliding his hand from Ryan’s back to his ass and resting it there. “Let’s get those dishes done. If you wash, I’ll dry.”
“Uh-huh.” Ryan’s muscles went tense, and he groaned. “Be good, now.”
“I’m just standing here offering to dry your dishes. That’s all.” Alex grinned, eyes twinkling as he stepped closer and pressed a quick, light kiss on Ryan’s lips.
“Dry my dishes, baby,” Ryan dared to tease, wiggling his hips.
“And you told me to be good.” Alex stole another kiss, then dropped his hand and stepped back.
“I did. Did you enjoy dinner?”
“Are you kidding? It was amazing. All those big flavors. And real food. But it wasn’t only good because it wasn’t an MRE—it would have been delicious no matter what I had to compare it to.”
Ryan flushed, leaning back for his kiss. Alex’s lips parted right from the start, opening and letting him in.
“Daddy! Go upstairs,” Mel called from the couch in the living room.
Alex’s eyes widened; his cheeks went red. “I forgot Mel was still down here.”
“Yeah.”
“Just go. I can totally wash dishes and put myself to bed.”
Alex chuckled. “Maybe we ought to do the dishes. It feels kind of weird knowing Mel is sending us up to make out.”
“You think? Go do your homework.”
Alex grabbed a dishtowel, looking a little sheepish.
He couldn’t stop chuckling, though. He had to.
“Just wash the dishes. Butthead.” Alex’s lips were twitching now too.
“But Alex!” Ryan could mimic Mel so well.
Alex finally let go, bursting out with laughter.
Ryan winked, then got to work. The dishes weren’t too bad, except for the cast iron, and they got it done in short order. Alex dried everything, looking through the cupboards until he found where it all went. Ryan tried to help at one point, but Alex wouldn’t let him, claiming this was the only way he was going to learn. So the drying wound up taking a little longer than the washing, but then they were done, Alex putting the dishcloth on its hook next to the fridge.
