Livy rolls her eyes and grabs her second wafer. "You can't paint nails, Daddy. You're a boy."
I scoff. "Says who? I will take you to a nail salon and I promise you there are boys working there painting little girls’ nails."
Livy doesn't look like she believes me.
"Would Daddy lie to you?"
She sighs dramatically. "No . . . I guess not . . ."
I want to thank her for the vote of confidence, but it's getting late. If I want any hope of getting her ready in the morning without a fuss, I need her back in bed soon.
"Alright, baby. A little birdie told me you have an algebra test tomorrow, so you better get to bed so you can get plenty of rest to do well."
Livy chuckles. "Silly Daddy. I'm too young for algebra. My test is on regrouping."
Ah, yes. Regrouping. A.K.A. borrowing to us old folks. No clue why they insist on changing the name of things and finding new ways to math. Subtraction is subtraction. No need for the fancy terms.
I boop my head with my palm and cause my daughter to laugh even harder. "How could I forget?"
I pick her up under her arms and spin in a circle. I love being a girl dad. There's something so sweet about their infectious giggles that make any day better, even if it isn't bad to begin with.
By the time I get to the top of the stairs, all laughing stops. Livy knows the routine. No waking up her sisters if she wants to continue having alone time with Daddy. If Zoey and Everly knew what their big sister did some nights, they would force themselves to stay awake, never wanting to miss an opportunity to join her.
I slip into the girls’ large bedroom. Right now they all share a room with two big built-in bunk beds with a set of steps in the middle. I custom-made it last year when the girls agreed they all wanted to be together. Eventually they’ll want to have their own rooms, but for now it's nice having them in one place.
I climb the steps and tuck Livy into the bed on the right. The top left bunk sits empty for now, housing all the extra stuffed animals the girls have.
"Night, Livy baby. Sweet dreams."
"Sweet dreams, Daddy. Don't let the bed bugs bite."
I kiss her forehead and remind her how much I love her, then quietly climb back down the steps and sneak out of the room.
It isn't until I'm in my own room that I let myself think about my new tenant once again. I don't know if it's the thoughts of the shirt she's wearing or the questions Livy was asking, but I crawl into bed and fall asleep to thoughts of Gracie.
Chapter Six
GRACIE
I stretch my arms over my head. It feels good to wake up to the birds chirping and the sun shining brightly.
I snicker. Who am I kidding? The windows aren't open. There are no birds singing me awake like some fairy tale.
But you want to know what else I'm not hearing? Annalee screaming my brother's name in ecstasy. No sister should ever have to wake up to that sound in her life.
I give my body a little wiggle and one last stretch before climbing out of bed. My feet hit the cool laminate floor and I remind myself again I need to get some slippers. I made a mental note last night before bed, but it will likely take at least three more reminders before I actually get them.
At thirty-three years old, one would think I’d have a good memory. And one would be wrong. I live by the reminders on my phone—when I remember to set them. More often than not, I forget to do that and then wonder why stuff never gets done.
I blame it on being the youngest of six kids, whose siblings are all twelve or more years older than me. I'm the oopsie baby.The sibling always catered to by everyone else in the family. Owen's the biggest culprit because he was already off in the Marines when I was born. I think he feels guilty for missing most of my childhood, so now he spoils me.Could be worse, but it definitely didn’t help me build up any sense of autonomy for things like buying shit I need.
I head straight for the bathroom to wash my face, throw my hair in a ponytail, and brush my teeth. I instantly feel much more awake. Morning routine clean—so much better than birds.
Marching over to the closet, I find a pair of jean shorts and one of my favorite shirts to wear for the day:I want you to glaze my hole.The shirt itself is black, but the donut in the middle is a multitude of colors dripping with colorful glaze. And each letter is a different color giving it a rainbow effect.
The rest of the world might find my shirts weird, but I love the little thrill they give me when I find a new one. Not to mention the chuckle I get every time someone looks horrified when they read it. Honestly, the number of people who are embarrassed by what I wear is hilarious. It's not like I'm forcing them to wear it.
My stomach growls as I pull the shirt over my head. It's past the normal time I would eat breakfast and my belly isn't happy. Which brings me back to my current predicament. I think about what’s between me and the kitchen, and sigh. With any luck, Ang is already off to work and I won't have to interact with him just yet. I'm still feeling off after his reaction last night. The last thing I need to do is start something with my landlord. My life is complicated enough.
