“Coming right up.” Calder smiled at her before ducking out of the room to get the right sheets. I might have made her deal with the blue-and-white ones he’d been holding, but Calder seemed to have endless reserves of patience.
“I want a story.” Charlotte had already drunk over half of her tea. God, I hoped it stayed down.
“All right.” I pulled a random book from her cramped shelves only to have her thrust a different one in my face.
“This one.” She handed me a worn favorite about a family in need of a vacation.
I was too tired to remind her about manners and at least it wasn’t an anatomy text, so instead I settled down on the rug next to her to read while Calder tackled the bed.
“‘Once upon a time...’” I started and she yawned big. I knew this book largely by heart, having read it first to Madeline even before the girls came to live with me, and later wearing this copy out with Charlotte’s endless requests for it. She loved the bossy little kid who knew best for his family.
“That’s not your usual voice for the kid,” she interrupted, right as the kid was explaining his big plan. “He’s not that grumpy.”
“My apologies.” She wasn’t wrong. The main character of the book was a lot like Calder, actually. Taking charge without being rude, and having bottomless enthusiasm for the prospect of fun and adventure, however small. Unlike the kid in the book, who was mollified with some in-town outings, though, I wasn’t sure that I had enough to offer someone with Calder’s high need for fun.
“I like all Uncle Felix’s voices,” Calder said, ever loyal. Sure, he’d given up his Friday night to help us out, but how many times could he do that before other options started looking far more appealing?
“The kid’s voice is important.” Charlotte made the rocking chair squeak. “It’s because he’s happy that the family gets happy in the end.”
Deep thoughts from the second grader. The kid being happy to start with did make a difference to the story because he provided a good example for the harried parents, who needed to slow down and...
Have fun. Lord, what if Calder was right? Did I need to let more fun into my life?
“And in a family is it important that each person is happy?” I asked carefully, trying to reason out the answer in my own head too. Was my own happiness important enough to risk having another breakup that might impact the kids?
“Of course.” Charlotte nodded decisively. “One sad person and everyone is sad.”
Oh. I was undoubtedly going to be sad whenever Calder stopped coming around, whether it was this week or next month or ten years from now. The kids would be sad for me because that’s what kids and families did. They’d be there to provide sympathy no matter what the cause was, and me quietly longing for a relationship wasn’t necessarily any more healthy than actually attempting one.
“You’re right,” I managed to murmur. And somehow I returned to the story, Charlotte yawning more and more as we approached the end.
“Okay, Miss Charlotte,” Calder said softly, coming to crouch in front of the rocker. “Your bed is ready. Want a lift to it?”
With a gentleness that stole my breath, Calder carried her and her blanket nest back to bed and tucked her in like he’d done it a thousand times before.
I opened my mouth, needing to say something, but I wasn’t even sure what. But I couldn’t stay silent. I needed—
Bong. Bong. The front door chimed with the sort of perfect timing this whole damn night had had.
“That’s the groceries.” Calder bent down to rub my shoulder on his way out of the room. “I’ll go put them away. Don’t fall asleep on the floor.”
“I’ll try not to.”
“I want a stay-cation like the book.” Charlotte’s voice was all dreamy as I moved closer to the bed and smoothed her covers.
“They did do a good job of making the best of a hard situation, didn’t they?”
“It wasn’t hard.” Her face screwed up.
“It wasn’t?”
“No one died,” she said flatly.
Gulp. Damn. My voice was rough when I finally managed to speak. “This is true.”
She and Madeline had certainly seen enough of real loss in their little lives, from the dad who skipped town to grandparents they had only fuzzy memories of to their mother. It made sense that the book with its two harried parents seemed relatively idealistic from Charlotte’s perspective. No one died. So many people were gone from my life too—my mom so long ago, but never forgotten, my dad, my grandparents, Courtney, and others. Life’s other challenges paled in comparison to surviving those losses.
And I was still here, plodding along. Was I making the best of my time when I was letting fear paralyze me? Move on. The realization I’d had in the kitchen the other day about the need to get my life back returned to echo in my brain. Maybe I was dwelling on the wrong things, losing perspective about what was truly important. What Charlotte loved about the book was the way the family embraced fun in the end, shifted their priorities.
“Perhaps...” I trailed off as I realized Charlotte was already sleeping. I let out a huge yawn of my own. I needed to get off this floor, but my limbs seemed to have turned into iron bars. Instead, my head continued to churn. In many ways, my life was defined by who wasn’t here anymore. All the deaths, but also Tim and the loss of that dream when he’d moved on.
I didn’t know how much hope I had left in me or what my capacity for fun was. My exhaustion was making it hard to reason, but if Calder truly wanted to stay, maybe I needed to let him.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Calder
Felix was asleep again on the floor. I’d found him earlier dozing off on the floor in Charlotte’s room and been about to shuttle him off to his own bed, but then Madeline had needed him. And then Charlotte had puked up the tea. And then Madeline had needed some fever medicine and a story to go back to sleep.
But now it was truly the middle of the night and both girls were sound asleep at last and here Felix was crashed out on the floor of Madeline’s room, stuffed animal for a pillow and not even a cover.
If I thought he’d let me get away with it, I’d carry him to his bed. I’d carried heavier crewmates longer distances, but the chances of Felix waking up and loudly protesting were high. Rather than risk him waking up the girls, I knelt next to him and gently shook his shoulder.
“Come on, off to bed with you,” I whispered.
“Mmph. I’m fine,” he mumbled and clutched the stuffed animal closer.