“Okay, but when we get home, it's straight to bed,” I said, taking some salmon and asparagus from the center of the table and adding them to my plate. Ruby poured me a glass of Chardonnay and passed it to Casey, who handed it to me over Carly's head.
“Okay,” Carly said. “I promise.”
We all started eating when Carly tossed her fork down on her plate suddenly, causing everyone to jump in their seats.
“What's the matter with you?” I asked. “That's not how we behave at the table.”
“This is fish!” she said in disgust, pointing at the piece of salmon on the tines of her fork.
“Yes,” I said.
“I'm not going to eat fish! It could be Dory! Or Nemo!” she yelled.
“Honey, there's no reason to yell,” I said.
“Well, there is if she's upset, in her mind,” Rex said in a soothing, yet condescending, tone. “I don't think it's necessary to stifle her emotions, especially when she's obviously very passionate about this.”
I thought of many things to say, but took a deep breath and chose to say none of them. Casey caught my eye and surveyed me sympathetically, which just made me even angrier. I was getting pity from everyone for trying to keep my child from being rude at the dinner table? A whole ten minutes into the night...great, I thought. I took a gulp of my wine as Casey tried to handle her.
“Sweetie, I promise you it's not Dory. Dory is a tropical fish that lives in the ocean, or in special aquariums, like in the movie,” Casey explained. “Salmon is a fish that lives in rivers—”
“I want to go to the quarium,” Carly interrupted. “To see the Dory fish.”
“Well, the aquarium is on the other side of Kansas City...” Casey started, looking at me for approval. I shrugged. “It would have to work out for your mom's schedule because it's a bit of a drive. She said you wanted to go to the zoo sometime? They might have Dory fish for you to see.”
“No, I want to do to the quarium, like you said!” Carly protested in an argumentative, whiny tone. “And I want you to take me!”
“Excuse me?” I said. “How dare you speak to your father like that?”
“She's learning how to communicate what she wants, and she's expressing her opinions and desires,” Rex said, again, calmly and patronizingly.
“Well she can express herself in a different tone of voice,” Casey argued, and my head snapped up at the sound of somebody actually backing me up for once. “She's being rude and arguing with her parents, and that’s not something I'm going to encourage.”
“If she doesn't learn how to argue with you now, how will she learn how to argue when she needs to?” Ruby asked.
“With her friends at school, or by watching television, or by reading books,” he listed off to his mother. “I don't mind debating with her when the situation calls for it, but not if she's going to be rude and whiny.”
I watched Casey in awe, my mouth slightly agape, and I looked down to see that Carly was doing the same. He took a deep breath and turned to her slowly.
“You know I can't come to the aquarium with you, Carlito,” he said softly. “I wish I could, but I can't.”
I swallowed hard as Carly looked down at her lap and her little lips started to tremble. I knew better than to 'suppress her emotions' by telling her there was no reason to cry, but I could hardly stand to watch it, especially when it had to do with spending more time with Casey—a topic that was in my thoughts a lot recently. I drained a good portion of my glass of wine and went back to eating my dinner.
“The fish is delicious tonight, honey,” Rex said to Ruby, and Carly immediately erupted into wailing sobs.
“Okay, come here,” Casey said and grabbed her out of her booster. He lifted her up so her face was close to his. “There's leftover pizza in the fridge. Would you rather have that?” She nodded, sniffling and breathing in choppy gasps. “I'm sorry, I forgot that we talked about not eating fish anymore.”
“It's okay, Daddy,” she said, broken by quick inhalations while she tried to recover from crying. “I'm sorry you can't come to the quarium with me.”
“Maybe I can, sweetie,” Casey said, and everyone still seated at the table looked up at him—me in shock and both his parents in something that resembled a warning glare. “Let's get you that pizza and we can start the movie, okay?”
She nodded again and he kissed her on the cheek before carrying her out of the dining room to the kitchen.
After a few more bites and several minutes of strained silence, Ruby finally clucked her tongue.
“Salmon is so good for you, especially for children—with all the fatty acids,” she lamented.
“Great for the brain,” Rex agreed with a nod.
“I'd hate for this trend to go on too long, you know?” she continued. “Little Carly needs all the healthy food she can get.”
I set my fork down and drained my Chardonnay before standing slowly from my seat.
“Thank you for your effort on this lovely meal,” I said coldly. “Unfortunately, I believe I've just lost my appetite.”
I turned on my heels and left the room, heading for the family room where I could hear the movie starting. Casey and Carly sat next to each other on the large brown sectional sofa, eating slices of cheese pizza off the same plate.
I sat down next to Casey and sighed.
“I bet that's the exact same organic cheese pizza I buy, but I'm guessing you don't ever get accused of feeding our child crap,” I grumbled, practically under my breath.
Casey chuckled in his throat. “You want another glass of wine?”
“That sounds amazing, but then I'll probably fall asleep on this couch,” I answered.
“That’s fine with me,” he said, turning to look me in the eyes. My chest fluttered. His steely eyes caught me off guard every time, and sitting next to him reminded me of all the things I had meant to talk to him about.
“I...mornings are so crazy—”
“Well, I can get Carly ready—”
“And Aunt Melinda is letting me assist on a root canal tomorrow morning,” I added.
“Oh,” Casey said. “That's great! Well, then you're right. Tonight probably isn't the best night.”
“Is any night going to be a good night?” I asked, checking to make sure Carly was thoroughly engrossed in the movie, which she was, and not paying attention to us.
“What do you mean?” Casey asked, cocking his head at me.
Carly pulled the pizza plate away from him and slid off the couch, walking up to within six feet of the TV and plopping down on the floor in front of it. Apparently, we were being too loud for her.
“I mean,” I dropped my voice to just above a whisper, “what are we doing?”
“We are watching a movie,” Casey said, a smirk spreading across his firm, ample lips.
“All this family stuff,” I sighed. “Out of nowhere—”
“It's not out of nowhere, Alex,” he interrupted, dropping his volume as well, causing his voice to go raspy, “I've always wanted to spend more time together.”
“All three of us?” I asked. “I don't understand. Why would we get her hopes up like that? Why would we teach her that this family time—the three of us doing things together—is something normal when it's probably not? Casey, you can't come to the aquarium and a karate belt test in the span of a few months! Why would you tell her that?”
He shifted his body toward me swiftly and grabbed my hands, looking me in the eyes intently.
“What if I could?” he asked.
I swallowed nervously. What was he saying?
“Can you?” I asked.
“If I could, would you want me to?” he asked.
“Yes, of course,” I said, nodding. “Carly would love to have you be a bigger part—”
“Not just Carly,” he interrupted.
I couldn't speak. It was the conversation I was so nervous to have. It was all the questions I asked myself and didn't have answers to. And I doubted with hi
s distinct, gorgeous face inching slowly toward mine that I would have been able to have a conversation about something even as tame and unimportant as the weather.
“I...I—what are you saying, Casey?” I stammered.
“I'm saying I want to be a bigger part of both your lives,” he whispered, “but only if you want me to.”
“What if it doesn’t work out?” I asked. “Is that the best decision for us? For Carly's sake?”
“We can take it slow,” he said. “She doesn't have to know.”
As he said the words, he leaned in even closer, and my heart flipped.
“Okay,” I said. “Slow. But I don't understand—is there some kind of better treatment or a cure, or—”
“Let me figure that out,” he said, lightly grabbing a section of my espresso brown hair and fondling it between his thumb and fingers. “Okay?” he asked, cocking his head.
I nodded. I didn't understand, but I nodded anyway, because my voice was escaping me again.
I jumped when dishes clanged into the sink in the kitchen behind us as Rex and Ruby started to clean up dinner. Casey sat up straight and turned away from me casually.
“Alright,” he said, his voice back to full volume, “where's the pizza thief?! This house has a pizza thief and I'm going to find her!”
Carly giggled and stood up to run, but he was faster, jumping up from the sofa, bounding in front of me in a single leap and swooping her up in his arms into an upside down hold. He shook her as if her were shaking out change from her pockets and she giggled hysterically.
“C'mon,” he growled. “Where's the pizza?! Is it in your pockets?”
“It's in my tummy!” Carly laughed.
“What, this?” Casey asked, tossing her down on the large, plush ottoman and tickling her belly, sending her into more hysterics.
“You're going to get her wound up,” I chuckled.
“I'm trying to tire her out for you,” he said as he continued his tickling, and she wailed with laughter.
“Don't make her throw up,” I laughed as she shrieked happily, rolling from side to side and trying to push his hands away, to no avail.
“Don't make me throw up, Daddy!” Carly echoed me through her adorable, uncontrollable giggles.
“That's the only way to get my pizza back!” he teased.
“That's gross!” Carly laughed.
Casey stopped tickling and sighed. “You're right,” he said, dramatically. “I guess I don't want my pizza back then. What else can I eat? Ice cream, maybe?”
“Ice cream!?” Carly shot up to standing. “Can I have some? Please, Daddy?”
“Yes, but you can't steal any of the ice cream for me, or the punishment is feet-tickling!”
“Oh, no, not her feet!” I gasped, playfully. “They're her true tickle weakness!”
“Daddy, remember the time you tickled my feet and I kicked you and you fell over and said you can't have anymore babies?” Carly rambled breathlessly.
I couldn't help it, and broke into hysterical laughter, flopping over on my side on the couch and grabbing my stomach.
“Oh, you think that's funny, huh?” Casey asked. “Carly, do you know where you got your tickle weakness?”
I inhaled sharply and cut my laughter off, sitting up quickly and scooting farther down the couch. “No,” I warned. “Don't you dare.”
Casey pounced and Carly squealed from behind him. He landed on top of me, pinning me down by shoulders, then grabbed my left leg while I wriggled underneath him.
“Oh, these ballet flats are much easier to remove than princess shoes!” he exclaimed over his shoulder to a giggling Carly as he slipped my shoe off and threw it across the room.
“I will kick you,” I laughed, looking up at his face as he straddled over me with a mischievous grin. “I'm serious—Casey! No!”
I shrieked and tried to fight him off as he tickled my foot, my entire leg convulsing as he did. I was useless, laughing too hard and basically unable to control any part of my body when my feet were tickled.
“She can't do anything to stop me!” Casey exclaimed playfully. “It's her tickle weakness!”
“Tickle weakness!” Carly echoed through her own hysterics at watching me get tickled.
“Stop!” I managed, with very little power behind it as I had no breath from all the laughing and tickling.
He stopped abruptly and jumped off of me, somewhat short of breath himself.
“Okay, Carly, he said, with a sigh, “we can't tickle mommies too much or they pee their pants.”
I sat up and punched him playfully in his taut, solid bicep as Carly flopped to the floor in yet another round of hysterical giggles. “I can't believe you said that!” I scoffed.
“Make mommy pee her pants!” Carly demanded through laughter.
“Not tonight,” Casey said sitting down next to me. “Maybe another time.”
My mouth fell open and I almost punched him again, but he turned to face me and gently tucked a few wild strands of hair behind my ear.
“Sometime when she brings a change of clothes.”
I swallowed, my chest going tight, and my breath going nervously shallow. I opened my mouth to speak, but he beat me to words.
“I know,” he said. “Slow...”
CHAPTER 6
The rest of the week went by slowly, with Monday night's conversation with Casey constantly running through my head, keeping me in a daze, and making me strangely impatient to see him for our usual Saturday morning drop off.
He had sent a text Friday night asking if I had time after I dropped Carly off to talk about her birthday party at his house the following weekend, and I said yes.
When we showed up at the door on Saturday morning, my hands were clammy and my heart rate was higher than normal. I felt like I was blushing, too, but I could see my reflection fairly clearly in the stained glass insert of the Carlson's front door while we waited and it didn't seem like it was obvious that my blood flow wasn't behaving the way it was supposed to.
“Hello to my two favorite ladies!” Casey exclaimed when he answered the door, gesturing for us both to come in, and we did. “I have party planning central set up at the breakfast counter.”
“Ooh, that sounds very business-like,” I commented with a grin as Carly took her excited, wide eyes between the two of us.
“Oh, it's very important business,” Casey said with a mock stern face and a dramatic nod. “And totally a surprise.”
Carly sighed and crossed her arms. “It's not a surprise if I already know it's happening,” she said, matter-of-factly.
“Not true,” Casey said, “because you don't know anything that's going to happen during the party, so all of the things that happen will be a surprise. So, surprise party.”
“Makes sense to me,” I said with a shrug.
“Speaking of surprises, there's one in your room,” Casey said. “Go check it out while your mom and I talk.”
Carly scrunched her face at him momentarily, as if she didn't like being told to get out of the way, but she quickly moved on from that thought and her face changed to excitement of the promised surprise as she ran up the stairs to her bedroom.
“Another toy?” I asked, trying not to inflict to much attitude into my tone.
“A new backpack, actually,” Casey said. “Dory, obviously. I thought since it was practical that, maybe, it would be okay?” His pale, sharp face scrunched as it waited for my approval.
“That's...very thoughtful,” I said. “And practical. Thank you. The unicorn bag is getting a little matted and beat up,” I added.
“I noticed. And, I mean, hey, I know kids go through a lot of different obsessions, but if she still wants to be a marine biologist at age twenty because we fostered her love of blue tangs when she was four, then I will buy her all the Dory stuff I can find,” he said with a laugh.
“Good point,” I replied, nodding. A warm feeling spread through my chest hearing Casey talk about our daughter's future.
<
br /> “Shall we?” he asked, gesturing to the kitchen, where 'party planning central' was apparently located.
I walked down the short hallway from the foyer to the kitchen and saw a spread of danish and fruit, and two bubbling mimosas, sitting on the breakfast counter along with Casey's laptop.
“Wow,” I said, as I sat in one of the counter height chairs. “Mimosas?”
“I remembered you said you liked them,” he responded. “Right?”
“Who doesn't like mimosas?” I asked, taking the glass in front of me and sipping it. The bubbling champagne was refreshing and relaxing at the same time.
“Only people who haven't tried them,” Casey replied, holding his champagne glass up for a toast. I clinked my glass against his and we both took sips. “Please help yourself to anything,” he added, gesturing to the danish and fruit.
I took a cheese danish and a few slices of cantaloupe.
“So, what's the plan here?” I asked, looking at the web page of decorations Casey had pulled up on his laptop.
“Well, all the decorations are taken care of, as well as the cake,” he explained. “I mainly just wanted to check a few details with you?”
“Sure,” I said, nodding, then taking another sip of the delicious, fizzy mimosa.
“First of all,” Casey said, “Hawaiian Barbeque or pizza?”
“Hmmm...” I mused. “She eats a lot of pizza. Let's do Hawaiian barbecue.”
“But no fish,” Casey said.
“Right,” I chuckled. “No fish.”
“Okay, next question: What time?”
“Well, are you wanting the food to be dinner or lunch?”
“Maybe dinner?” Casey suggested. “My aunt and uncle drive from Western Kansas.”
“Alright,” I said, “then start at four maybe? Dinner at five, cake after.”
“Great,” Casey nodded as he took down notes in his planner. “Last question...”
“Shoot,” I said.
“Do you think she'd like an aquarium for her birthday?” he asked.
“I...yeah, I'm sure she'd love it, but—”
“Here, I mean,” he clarified quickly. “You don’t have to do anything. I've done all the research. I'm actually setting up the salt water tank right now, in my room, for blue tangs and clown fish—”
Captive: a Paranormal Romance Page 4
