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Freddie
“You guys ready for a fun Friday sleepover with me?” Enthusiasm bounces off every word I speak but I’m met with a nonchalant shrug from Scarlet and a frown from DJ. “What’s wrong?” I ask, closing the door behind me and following them into the living room. Scarlet bounds over to the armchair, presses the button on the side and reclines back. She flips another switch and when the massager in the chair starts to vibrate, she sighs contentedly. DJ stomps over to the sofa and sprawls across the brown leather three seater, lifting his legs to tuck underneath his bum.
“Is one of you going to tell me what’s wrong or do I have to guess?” I fold my arms over my chest and stand in front of them, blocking any view of the TV, not that they’ve put that on yet. They always head straight toward their favourite spots in my house, demand snacks, and then ask to watch some God awful show that I end up getting hooked on and bingeing long after they’ve gone home.
“Nothing. It’s just—” Scarlet starts to speak but her brother interupts her.
“We wanted a sleepover with aunt Phoebe.” He folds his arms over his little chest and stamps his leg onto the sofa.
Part of me wants to join him and stamp my foot, telling him, ‘Me too, buddy, me too,’ but I don’t. Instead, I sigh inwardly and let the guilt wash over me. I’ve done this to myself. I’ve become the grumpy, grouchy, unfun uncle they don’t want to be around.
“DJ, stop being rude,” Scarlet scolds him, so much like her mum that I fight the grin from my face so I don’t undermine my niece when she’s doing the right thing. “Uncle Freddie, it’s not that we don’t love you. We do. It’s just every time we come here to stay, we end up either at the restaurant or hearing about the restaurant. And we know you love it there. But we don’t. Auntie Phoebe takes us to fun places and we get to stay up late, eating snacks and watching TV with her.”
“We do that here too,” I interrupt, trying to get a point in my favour, but she raises a brow at me and tilts her head to the side. And this time I do grin, because, damn, she’s a mini Lola.
“When was the last time?” she asks and presses the button on the side of the chair to raise her head up.
“Erm, the last time you stayed, wasn’t it?” I rub the back of my neck, feeling uneasy as her blue eyes stare at me.
“No, it wasn’t. The last time we stayed we fell asleep in your office at the restaurant because there was a crisis with your head chef andyouhad to sort it out even though the manager said she could handle it.”
Shit! She’s right. I remember that day well. Our head chef had fallen ill and we had no one to replace him. The sous chef had to step in, and, even though Lauren had told me she had everything under control, I still went. I couldn’t leave my dad’s dream in someone else’s hands. And even though I knew the kids were tired, that they’d had a long day at school and that Ihadn’t seen them in a long time, I still took them with me. Then made them wait around all night for me to finish.
“Okay, but that was one time,” I defend myself, even though I know I don’t have the right to.
“Not just dat time. You left us all alone and stayed in da kitchen da time befowe dat.” DJ sits up too and scowls at me.
I gulp a little because even though I don’t remember that far back, I know he’s right. And I’m not stupid enough to question him.
“Okay. I’m sorry guys. I really am. I don’t mean to do things like that. What can I do to make things better?” I try to explain as best as I can, but words fail me. I can’t tell them I work every hour god sends so I can fulfil my promise of looking after their grandad’s girls, even if two of those girls are fine looking after themselves.
Ivy’s set for life with her job in the private medical centre she works in and Lola is happily married to a hugely successful man who has unlimited cash available to him. But Mum doesn’t. And as much as she tells me she doesn't need help, she does. Financially. And there’s where I come in.
“No restaurant talk. No phoning to check in. Just us, in here, with snacks and movies.” Scarlet narrows her eyes at me and I nod my head back.
“And we go to the playgwound and have ice cweam with Auntie Phoebe. That’s non-nego, non-negot, you can’t argue dat with me.” I roll my lips to stop the smile spreading over them at his stumble over non-negotiable and nod again.
“But only if Auntie Phoebe isn’t busy. We can’t force her to join us.” I hope she isn’t. I hope she can spend the whole day with us. Because seeing her today made me thirsty for more of her.
“Oh she’ll be dere. She loves da swings,” DJ informs me, and I note that little bit of information in my head.
“I really am sorry, you two. You mean more to me than anything, including the restaurant, and I'm sorry if I’ve made you think differently. I never used to be so…”
“Bo-wing?” DJ interjects, and I laugh softly as his sister tuts and throws him a wide-eyed look.
“We know, Uncle Freddie. Auntie Phoebe told us you used to be fun.” Scarlet grins as she speaks, and I’m intrigued.
“Really? What else did she say?”
Her grin gets wider and I eye her suspiciously. “Nothing really. Just that you were fun and not boring. Mum’s said it before too. And Auntie Ivy.”
I don’t care about those two. They’re my sisters, they have to love me and say nice things. Auntie Phoebe’s different.
“So Auntie Phoebe didn’t say anything else?” I question casually as I walk into the kitchen.
“Nope.” Scarlet’s voice comes from directly behind me and I jump, secretly impressed with her ninja-esque stealth. “You seem to beveryinterested in what Auntie Phoebe said. Do you like her?” Her eyes bore into mine and I know I have two choices. I tell her the truth and admit that yes, I do fancy Phoebe. Or I deny it and make myself a sitting target with her to prove me wrong for the entire day tomorrow.
“Yep,” I say quickly and walk over to the freezer. I open the door, lean down and take out a tub of chocolate ice cream and slam the door shut. When I stand up straight, she’s frozen to the spot with her mouth gaping open. I head over to a drawer, grab three spoons, walk back toward her, and lower my face down to hers and smirk. “Didn’t expect that answer did you?”
