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“I have it, Charles.”
“No, it’s fine.” He plucked her out of the tub, but because she didn’t release her Barbie pool, she took the pool full of water with her, tipping it over and all over the floor.
“Fuck.”
“Oh no.”
“What’s going on here?” Brad rushed into the bathroom.
I was about to warn him to be careful until he stepped into the bathroom and wiped out, slipping and falling to the ground.
“Great,” Charles grumbled, wrapping a crying Mary in a towel. “Now, we all have to get changed.”
“Why me? Why now?” Brad lay there for a few seconds, staring at the ceiling, and then he began to laugh.
Charles placed Mary on her feet and grabbed a few towels, layering them on the floor. I assisted but stepped on a puddle and slipped. Strong arms wrapped around my waist, twisting toward the tub, steadying me, but too bad we both fell in a heap over the towels, me on top of Charles.
My breath caught as I felt every inch of him against me—his chest against my chest, his hip by my hip. I pushed at his chest but ended up getting tangled up and head-butting him.
Ow …
I expected more anger, more frustration from him, but out of nowhere, he let out a deep rumble of laughter that eased my insides.
Then, I started laughing. Brad was laughing. All the adults were laughing.
What a day. And there was no way it could get worse, right?
Wrong.
Suddenly, from the door, a bright light caught us all off guard as the flashes from the photographers began.
Chapter 19
Charles
Every king, even the powerful, almighty ones, fell.
And I fell.
Hard.
For the first time in a very long time, I was sick. Not just a little cold, but a full-on type A flu. It had been confirmed by the doctor. It had also been confirmed that since I had gone too late, I couldn’t take Tamiflu.
Good God. My only saving grace was that it was the weekend, but I felt like utter shit.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
“Daddy,” Mary said. “I made you something, but Uncle Brad said I can’t come in there.”
I grunted, unable to move because every muscle hurt, as though I’d just worked out. “Thanks, baby.”
“I’m just going to slip it under the door.” There was a long pause before she continued, “And don’t die, okay? ’Cause I love you.”
I laughed. Then, I realized it hurt to laugh.
“Dad?” It was Sarah this time. “Brad and Uncle Mason are going to take us out. We might sleep at their place in the city since you’re … sick and stuff.”
Good. Even better.
