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He shrugged. “That’s because my costume was hand picked by the birthday girl.”
“Is that right?” I asked, wondering why he thought it was a good idea to let a four-year-old dress him.
“Yup.” His eyes were softer when he looked back at me. “Are you okay?”
I shrugged, not sure of the answer. “I’ll get over it.”
“You don’t need to get over it, Chase. Not in a hurry, anyway.”
“It’s easier than hashing it out with Mom, which I am absolutely not doing.”
He nodded, I knew his advice would be to speak to her, not that he’d do it if the roles were reversed.
I was not a kid person.It wasn’t anything specific about them, I just didn’t gel with kids. I didn’t know how to talk to them. I didn’t know about kid stuff. I wasn’t morally opposed to having any of my own, but it seemed unlikely at this point. And I was fine with that. How would they even fit into my life? It’s not like I’d be able to strap one to my chest and keep making cocktails.
Mack on the other hand? It was like part of his brain hadn’t advanced past the age of ten and, as a result, he could relate to them on their own level. He just got them. It baffled me but, at the same time, made perfect sense because of course he was good with kids. He was good with pretty much everyone.
I was starting to squirm in my seat as we pulled up at Pip’s home, with its sweeping front lawn, circular drive, and colonial facade. It didn’t matter how many times I’d been here, my reaction was always the same: first overwhelm, followed byI would not want to clean this place.
Mack parked his black Range Rover (a ridiculous vehicle, especially when you lived in Brooklyn) behind a line of monochromatic suburban tanks that probably all cost more than my apartment. As we climbed out, the sounds of squealing children filled the air. I took a steadying breath and prepared myself for the madness while Mack grabbed the enormous box from the back seat.
“Aunty Cheese!” Savanna’s squeal carried across the yard as she came barreling out the front door, her rainbow fairy costume billowing around her as she ran at us. She collided with my legs, throwing me back a step, her arms wrapping around hips and squeezing tight.
“Happy birthday Savvy!” I might not be a kid person in general, but this kid, this kid I loved. Her older brothers were okay, too, but the twins had crossed over into monosyllabic preteens, so it was nods and grunts from here until who knew when. The now four-year-old Savanna, on the other hand, was a pint-sized tyrant who ruled over her kingdom with a tiny iron fist. I respected it, mainly because I didn’t have to live with it. She was going to be a badass adult one day, just like her mom.
“Come on, come on! Your costume is inside!” She was practically vibrating.
“Mycostume?”
“Did I not mention she had one for both of us?” Mack said with a grin so wide the corners of his lips were almost touching his ears.
“No, you failed to mention that,” I hissed out one side of my mouth as Savanna took my hand and, with remarkable strength, started tugging me toward the house.
Pip gave us both apologetic smiles as her strong-willed offspring led the way upstairs to her bedroom. Once inside she showed us, with great pride, our costumes.
Ourmatchingcostumes.
Mine was a sparkling red leotard, with a red tulle skirt and green and white tights. It looked like Christmas had thrown up on a fairy. There were also red shoes with curled toes and bells. Lord help me.
Mack’s had the same green and white striped tights with the smallest red waistcoat known to man, the thing would be lucky to cover half his torso. It was the middle of November, but Savanna clearly wasn’t going to compromise her vision for something as inconsequential as a temperature in the low fifties.
“Um, Sav, is there a reason we’re matching?” I asked, ignoring the fact I’d be able to take out a kid's eye with my nipples once I was in this get-up.
“Because you’re married,” she said with a tone that suggested I was an idiot.
“What!? No, we’re—” I spluttered at her.
“Uncle Mack is momma’s brother, and you’reAuntyCheese. So you’re married.” Again with the tone.
“Oh, honey, no, we’re friends, just friends. We’re not—notmarried.” I tried to send the bat signal to Mack, this was his blood relative and therefore his responsibility to clear up her delusions, but he just stood there grinning at me.
Savanna frowned, and planted her hands on her hips. “Momma said that too, but she’s wrong.”
“No, nope, she’s not.”
“But…” Her lip dropped. “Does that mean you’re not Aunty Cheese?”
“Oh! No, no, Savvy.” I dropped down onto my knees in front of her, desperate to stop the tears before they started up. “I’m still Aunty Cheese, I’ll always be Aunty Cheese.”
