“Seriously, Cain, you’ve turned that sweet boy into a holy terror. I can’t believe Adam let you teach him those things!” She stamps her foot, and damn if it doesn’t make her even cuter.
I chuckle as I peer into each room, looking for the little delinquent. “Believe me, when it comes to watching over the munchkins, Adam’s set the bar really low for me. What do you expect after the ‘cratchel’ incident? But, I mean, come on, I’m the fun uncle. Everyone loves Uncle Cain.”
“Cratchel incident?”
“Never mind about that. It’s not important.”
She’s on my heels as I search the house for Gage. “Well, believe me, not everyone loves Uncle Cain. Some people would love to teach him a big, fat lesson!” she replies, poking me in the back with each word for emphasis.
I turn on a dime, and stoop down to meet her nose to nose. Her eyes widen, and she freezes in place. “Oh, I don’t think you want to tangle with me, Tink. The stuff Gage pulled today? Child’s play … just the tip of the iceberg. I will unleash a prank war you’ll never recover from. You sure you wanna dance with me?”
Her pretty blue eyes go wide, but before she can answer, I hear a sound coming from the bathroom. I peek around the corner and spot Gage peeking his head out from the cabinet under the sink.
“There are more tricks? Why didn’t you tell me, Uncle Cain? I wanna know them all,” Gage says as he scowls at me, angry that I’ve been holding out on him.
I meet Celia’s eyes and tip my head in Gage’s direction. She smiles back, and now the victim becomes the conspirator.
“Get him!” I yell, and Celia and I descend on Gage, her grabbing his arms and me wrangling the feet. “Tickle war!”
Belly laughs fill the room, some from Gage as we tickle him senseless, and more from Lily as she watches the show.
Gage finally breaks free, and I fall to the carpet in exhaustion. I hear Celia’s body flop down beside me, and I turn my head toward her. She searches my eyes, looking for what I’m not sure, and a wide smile slowly emerges, lighting her face all the way to the depths of her blue eyes. And that quickly, I know I’m forgiven.
“Hey Gage?” she calls out, lifting her head to see him.
“Yeah, Aunt Cece?”
“What’s a cratchel?”
Before I can put my hand over the little traitor’s mouth, Gage jumps up and runs away from me.
“It’s right between a dude’s crack and his satchel. You should never kick a man in his jewels, Aunt Cece.”
I chance a look to the side. An incredulous Celia is staring back at me—mouth open, eyes rolled, and head shaking from side to side. I do the only thing I can in this situation—I have the good sense to look sheepish and shrug.
“How was I to know he’d repeat every single word I say to him?” I turn to Gage with my hands in the air. “Seriously, dude, you’ve got to let some sh-stuff slide.”
Celia pops me lightly on the back of the head as she jumps up and walks to the kitchen. She turns her head to me and smiles. “Clueless. Completely and utterly clueless.”
No matter what her mouth says, her eyes twinkle brightly and her look is gentle and affectionate. It’s not all for the kids—some of that look is for me, too, I just know it.
Yeah, I’m still forgiven. Cratchel and all.
I almost don’t make it to the phone in time. It nearly rolls to voicemail as I wrap the towel around me and trail water on the bedroom floor.
Every thing about this night has been rushed. With the opening of duck season, I’ve been on patrol all day today. I step off the boat and find two tenant messages waiting for me. Busted pipe. Broken air conditioner. What a great fucking way to spend a Friday night. Since I fixed both issues in record time, my hope is to salvage the night with a six-pack of Heineken and a little ESPN.
“Yeah?” I say as cradle the phone between my shoulder and ear, trying my best to dry off at the same time. In a hurry to catch the call, I don’t get a glance at the screen before answering.
I’m met with several sniffles and a tiny whimper. The hair on the back of my neck stands on end because I know that voice. Even the smallest sound can give her away.
“Tink, what’s wrong?”
“I … I,” she stammers. “I locked myself out of the house, Cain. I’m sorry, but I didn’t know who to call. Adam’s not home.”
A full-on sob escapes, and it’s a punch to the gut. I grab clothes from my dresser and pull my jeans up my still-damp legs. It fucking kills me to hear her this way.
“Hey, it’s okay, Celia. No big deal, sweetheart. I’m coming right now. Just calm down, all right?”
“I’m really sorry to call you. I didn’t know what else to do. I gave Adam a key so I wouldn’t have to bug you—”
“You’re not bugging me. I’m leaving right now,” I say as I grab my keys off the counter. After getting dressed in record time, I throw a “Sorry I’m leaving again so soon” treat to my dog, Mr. Biscuit, and fly out the door.
“Celia?” I call out into the darkness, walking around the side of her house, but I’m met with silence. She’s not sitting on the porch this time. As I round the corner to the rear of the house, I hear the sniffles coming from the back porch.
Twinkle lights snaked through the wooden arbor cast a small amount of light, and I’m able to see her body curled up on the wooden swing. She’s folded up into a tiny ball, trying to disappear, vanish from this world, by the looks of it. If I thought her voice on the phone was painful to hear, actually seeing her unraveled is unimaginable. I rush to her side and kneel on the brick, my thumb swiping the tear trailing her cheek.
My arrival unleashes the floodgates yet again, and sobs rack her body as she covers her face with her hands. Without a second thought, I lift her up and cradle her into my chest, lightly shushing this new onslaught of grief. I don’t speak—it’s not the time for that. I pull her head to my chest and rhythmically rock back and forth on the swing, hoping to lull her into a sense of calm. Her legs, her torso, every piece of her—I meld her into me, hoping to relieve some of the burden. I wish I could carry her heavy load.
When the sobs downgrade to whimpers, I pull her far enough away so I can meet her sorrowful eyes. I swipe her wispy bangs across her forehead and cradle her face in my hands. Even with tear-stained, splotchy cheeks, and eyes swollen from crying, she’s beautiful … absolutely stunning. She still sparkles in my eyes.
“Now, I know this has nothing to do with being locked out of the house, Celia. What’s this all about? How do we fix it?”
She shakes her head somberly. “There’s nothing to fix, Cain. This is how it is for me. This is how it will always be. I’m beginning to think nothing will ever change.”
I search her eyes for answers, but only see despair. I can’t change what I don’t understand, and I desperately want to make things better for her.
“I can’t let you off that easy. You’re gonna have to give me a little more than that, Tink.”
She releases a heavy sigh, and her head falls to my chest. Her shoulders heave with labored breaths, and her delicate hands fist the edges of my shirt. She lifts up slowly, her head weighing a hundred pounds, and faces me with lowers lashes.
“I’m exhausted,” she whispers, her words labored and raspy. “I’m so tired of loving someone who no longer exists.”
Her mouth turns down on her last words, and she hangs her head, seemingly ashamed of her confession. I feel her shrinking away from me, wishing herself invisible, and grasp her shoulders and shake gently.
“Hey now, stop that. You don’t have to hide from me.” I cradle her delicate neck and drop a quick kiss to her forehead. I bend down to meet her lowered gaze. Her lashes flutter, and she reluctantly complies. There’s no hint of laughter in those blue orbs tonight.