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I shuddered and moved my head away, but that didn’t stop him from tap-tap-tapping on my shoulder.
“Mama, dinner!”
“I’m awake,” I assured him, opening my eyes. I sat up, and Rhett’s eyes widened.
“Mama’s hair,” he said, wrinkling his nose as he sat back on his heels. He lifted his hands until they were level with his ears and about a foot away from his head. “Whoa.”
“Crazy, huh?” I cackled. My hair flowed around my head like a cloud, and Rhett laughed himself silly as I shook it from side to side. “I think it’s marvelous.”
“Brush hair, Mama.” He giggled.
“I think I’ll leave it how it is, actually,” I teased, dramatically tilting my head to the side so my hair flopped around again.
“Looks good to me,” Michael said from the doorway.
I screeched in surprise and threw myself back against the pillow, pulling the blankets over my head. Rhett laughed so hard he fell over.
“Did you know he was there?” I asked him, sliding my arm out from under the blankets to poke him in the belly. “Traitor!”
“I caught him in the doorway a little while ago,” Michael said, his voice laced with amusement. “We should probably grab a baby gate for the top of the stairs.”
I groaned and threw back the blankets. “Yeah, that’s a good idea.”
“Mama?” Rhett asked tentatively. “Brush hair?”
“Yes, I’ll brush my hair,” I said, pulling him down for a hug. “Give me twenty minutes, and I’ll be the gorgeous mother you know and love.”
“My best friend,” he replied seriously, drawing his head back to look at me.
“You’remybest friend.” Setting him back next to me, I gave him a little push. “Go with your daddy while I get ready.”
It took less than twenty minutes for me to get dressed and ready, but not much less. Rhett was right. My hair had been an absolute shit show. I just barely managed to tame it without having to wash it again. I was zipping up my sweater as I walked down the stairs when Rhett slid to a stop at the bottom, a huge grin splitting his face.
“Mama see?” he asked, his eyes wide. “Slide!”
“Nice sliding. Just be careful, okay?” I warned. “Don’t go on the stairs in those socks, or you might biff it.”
“I won’t,” he agreed, nodding. I knew the minute my back was turned, the little stinker would be doing exactly what I’d told him not to do. “Mama pretty.”
“Thanks, you little flatterer. Yours looks sweaty.”
“Sweaty, yeah,” he announced with relish.
“Okay, well maybe calm down on the sweating?” I wrinkled my nose as I ruffled his hair. “You’re going to meet your great-grandparents tonight.”
“I know,” Rhett said, following me toward the front door.
“I really loved it before you knew that phrase,” I joked, sliding my shoes on as my stomach lurched with nerves.
“Daddy, a motorcycle.” Rhett pointed to the garage door. They must’ve done some exploring while I was getting ready.
“That’s cool, bud.”
“Daddy, a truck.”
“I know. Daddy’s had that truck for a long time,” I murmured, smiling.
“Long time,” he said, nodding his head.
