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“You’re takin’ care of the house—it hasn’t been this clean since I fuckin’ moved in. Doin’ the grocery shoppin’ so I don’t have to—”
“I live here, too,” she said, cutting me off. “Of course I clean up after myself.”
“Let’s be real here,” I replied. “You clean up after all three of us. You do three times the shit I do around here. How’s that not pulling your weight?”
“Like I said,” she muttered stubbornly. “I don’t know why we’re having this conversation. I have a job, and I’m going to go back tomorrow.”
“No. You’re not.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’ll call my fuckin’ cousin and ask her to fire you.”
“She’ll never listen to you.”
“Wanna bet?”
“Why are you doing this?” she barked, getting to her feet. “Why is this such a big deal?”
“You tell me,” I replied, standing. “What the fuck is goin’ on in that head that’s convincin’ you to go back to a job that makes you throw up and hack off your hair?”
“I’m going to pull my own weight—”
“There’s that phrase again,” I rasped darkly. “Where’d you hear it?”
“It’s a common phrase.”
“You keep usin’ it.”
“Maybe because I’ve heard it a few million times,” she shot back in frustration. As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she paled.
“You haven’t heard it from me,” I said softly. “You wouldn’t ever hear it from me.”
She crossed her arms over her chest again, looking at her feet.
“You don’t gotta do anythin’ but be here, sugar,” I continued, watching her struggle, hoping she’d fucking believe me. “Me and you aren’t keepin’ score. You can do whatever you fuckin’ want, sleep all day, spend the entire day at the park with Rhett watchin’ the ducks, train to be a fuckin’ clown for all I care. I don’t need you tryin’ to meet some ideal of your share of the load—I just need you to be here with me. That’s it.”
“No one wants an albatross around their neck,” she whispered, raising her head.
“I do,” I countered. “Baby, I’d carry both our weight every day and twice on Sundays. No joke.”
“But for how long though?” she asked with a sad smile.
“Forever. I already told you that.” I waited a few seconds for my words to sink in, then reached out and pulled on a strand of her crazy hair. “But not if you’re keepin’ this haircut. A man can only take so much.”
“Shut up,” she said, shoving at my chest. “You’re not funny.”
“Who’s jokin’?”
I was about to pull her against me, hoping I’d gotten through to her, when a little voice at the top of the stairs made my heart drop into my stomach.
“Daddy!” Rhett called happily. Half a second later, he was stepping off the top stair like he knew exactly what to do and I was lurching forward, trying to stop him.
Emilia got there first. Just as Rhett missed the first stair and started to tumble, Emilia hit her knees a few stairs down and caught him before he made contact. He screeched in surprise as I came up behind her and helped to turn Rhett right side up.
“No, Rhett,” Emilia said, her voice stern before they both burst into tears. “No stairs!”
I dropped onto my ass and pulled them both onto my lap as I tried to catch my breath.
