Kyndall lets out an angry gasp and I look to Harlow for help.
Harlow takes a chocolate bar out of her purse and holds it right in front of Rylie’s face. Rylie takes one look at the chocolate and grins. Fight forgotten. She lets go of me and goes straight into Harlow’s arms as she picks her up. Harlow gives her the chocolate, but not before she breaks off two other pieces and gives them to Nycole and Kyndall, giving them a wink in the process.
I take in a deep breath. “Thanks. Hey, where’s mine?” I say, bumping Harlow’s hip with mine.
Rolling her eyes while chewing her piece of chocolate, Nycole huffs. “You guys are teaching her bad habits, you know. You always give her stuff like that when she’s bad. She’s going to start being bad just to get candy, Mom. Jeez.”
While I’m mentally strangling her, I hear the lobby doors open behind me from the ER waiting room.
“Hey Blake,” Harlow says as he walks up behind us. “I’m assuming you guys have worked out your issues?” She looks down at my hand and then back at Blake. Pointing her finger in his face she adds, “You and I are going to have a long talk when I get back. I mean really Blake, did you have to slam her hand in the door?”
All three heads whip around and their eyes narrow as the girls take their first look at Blake Morgan. I press my lips together as I try not to encourage the behavior by triumphantly smiling. Watching all three of them practice their own versions of the mommy death stare on Blake is somewhat redeeming. I quickly glance at Blake and shrug my shoulders.
Harlow assesses the situation and I can tell she’s also struggling to keep a straight face. “Oops…probably not the best time to mention the whole ‘slamming the door and breaking Alex’s hand’ thing. Sorry about that, Blake.”
Turning to me she says, “Also probably not the best time for this either, but I’m leaving right now to go meet Trace. So that means he’s going to need to drive you home.” She nods her head towards Blake and clears her throat, still trying to contain her laughter when she looks again at the girls still glaring at Blake. “I’m also sorry about that, Blake.” I can’t help but let out a small giggle. I know she’s trying, but it’s blatantly obvious she’s finding this situation very amusing.
With all three girls standing protectively around my legs and holding on to my waist, I watch Blake as he studies them all with respectful eyes. Then he looks back at me and sighs.
“Well,” he says, pulling my keys from his pocket, “This is going to be interesting.”
For once I couldn’t agree more.
I look at my girls and give them each a reassuring smile. I place my good hand on each of their heads as I make the introductions. “Nycole, Kyndall, Rylie, this is Blake Morgan. My very, very good friend. He was actually my best friend growing up.” I give them a quick wink and whisper quietly to them, “Now ease up on the poor guy, he’s not that bad.” I grin at Blake.
Blake flashes me his gorgeous smile, but immediately turns his attention to my girls. “It’s nice to meet you lovely ladies.” He crouches down so he can look them each in the eyes. “I’m really sorry about the accident with your mom’s hand. I promise all of you that I’m going to do everything that I can to make her feel all better, if you guys don’t mind me helping her out for a while.”
I internally cringe at the word help. I watch my girls, each of them mesmerized by Blake’s beautiful and endearing smile, as they shake his hand. As they smile innocently back at him, I feel a wall crash down from around my heart.
Well, I guess Blake was right again.
This is definitely going to be interesting.
Walking into our house, I look at the living room in dismay. If I would have known how the events of today were going to unfold, I would’ve definitely straightened up. It looks like a tornado has been through the interior of my entire house. I vaguely remember tripping over the Lego house that Nancy and the kids must have built before she took them to her house, when I came home last night, but I didn’t bother cleaning it up. Now there are Lego’s strewn all over the floor along with a soccer ball, Hello Kitty pillow, Barbie dolls, Ken dolls dressed up in Barbie clothes, a couple of these tiny little dolls that I absolutely hate because trying to put their clothes on is a very daunting task, my bra and shoes from last night – oops...all over the living room floor.
I lean down slowly to pick up the bra as Blake enters the house with the girls following him. Quickly lodging it behind the couch before he can see it, I feel my hand starting to throb more and more. Blake, thankfully, stopped by the pharmacy on the way home for my pain medicine. The main question is when I can actually take it. I don’t want to be knocked out all night. What if Rylie has another accident in her bed? What if Kyndall has a nightmare? She’s had nightmares ever since Derek died. I guess I’ll have to try to tough it out tonight.
I turn to watch Blake observing the unfortunate state of my house. A corner of his mouth tips up when he spots the Ken dolls.
“Don’t laugh, Blake. That might be you one day. Actually, I guarantee that will be you if you hang around here long enough,” I say, giggling. I know this is the truth.
Chuckling under his breath, he walks to the kitchen and places the prescription bag on the counter. He turns to face the girls who are still on his heels. “Well, it’s a good thing I look good in pink.” He shakes his fingers at the girls. “But no sequins! That’s where I draw the line.”
Giggles erupt. Yes, I think the girls have definitely forgiven Blake. Traitors.
“Girls, one accident is enough for the day, don’t you think? I need you to pick up the toys and everything else that’s on the floor that doesn’t belong there and take it where is does belong. Okay?”
The girls just stand there looking back at me. I’m sorry…am I speaking Greek?
“Girls! Please, do as I say. This place is a wreck and I want us to make a good impression for my friend Blake.” At the mention of Blake’s name, the girls spring into action. Shrieks and giggles fill the living room as they run back and forth to their respective bedrooms putting away their things. I haven’t heard them giggle this much in a long time. Thinking back to this morning when I actually giggled as well, I’m beginning to think this is just a Blake Morgan side effect. He should come with a warning label.
“Mom, what’s your bra doing behind the couch?” Nycole says, holding up my bra for all the freakin’ world to see. I walk over and snatch it from her hand and put it behind my back. She gives me an extremely calculating little smile. “Well, you should put your stuff away, too. I mean, it’s only fair, right? Lead by example – that’s what you always tell me.”
Oh. My. God.
Did that just come out of my child’s mouth?
I tilt my head and stare at her, raising only my left eyebrow. This is my code for “You have about two seconds to think about what you just said and correct it before you really get in trouble.” She has actually become very familiar with this code over the last couple of months. Needless to say, she walks behind my back and grabs the bra, still holding it where Blake can see. I’m pretty sure she’s doing this as an act of retaliation. “Sorry, Mom. I’ll put it in your drawer for you.”
“Thanks, Nyc.” I want to add a major lecture about how to appropriately speak to adults, mainly your own mother, but I figure I should wait until Blake isn’t around.
I turn and see Blake silently laughing in the kitchen.
“Nice job. That was obviously a very effective form of communication.”
“Yeah, well, you pick up a few useful things as a parent, such as telepathic chastisement. I’ve tried it on Harlow, but evidently it’s strictly a parent/child thing,” I state nonchalantly. I walk into the kitchen where Blake’s leaning against the counter.