‘If Uncle G’s up for it?’ Sadie says as I turn back.
I am so screwed. I can’t say no to that face. Turns out there’s something equally addictive about a small person thinking the sun shines out of your backside.
‘Sure thing, Trouble.’
‘Why don’t you guys put your feet up?’ Tay says, coming up behind me, her hand soft on my shoulder. ‘And we’ll get Lottie ready for bed too?’
‘You’re sure?’ Sadie says.
‘Absolutely.’
So up we go. Teeth, face, pyjamas: we slip into the whole routine as easy as breathing, and my mind wanders like it did that night at her place, when I put Lottie to bed.
Is she thinking about it too? Thinking about the future? Of us doing the same with our kid?
‘What?’ she says, catching my eye as she tucks Lottie in.
‘Nothing.’
‘That’s the face you make when you’re thinking nothing?’
‘This is…’ I shrug. ‘Just nice. You know. Makes you think.’
A smile curves her lips, her eyes warming all the more. ‘Yeah, I know what you mean.’
‘You lie here, Uncle G,’ Lottie orders, patting one side of the bed. ‘And you here, Aunt Tay-Tay, then you can bof wead.’
‘I reckon I’ll break the bed if I get on there too.’
‘The bed won’t bweak, silly. Mummy and Daddy wy on it all the time.’
Tay laughs and climbs in, wrapping an arm around Lottie.
‘Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.’
The mattress dips as I get in beside them and they roll towards me, much to Lottie’s giggly delight. My arm lifts, drawing them in, as Taylor reaches for the book and spreads it open across our laps.
‘How the Grinch Stole Christmas…’ she begins and Lottie slaps her finger down on the page.
‘Look! It’s you, Uncle G!’
Wait—
What?
Tay gives me a sheepish wince.
She can’t be serious.
‘Are you saying…?’
‘You looked so put out last Christmas, I had to come up with something else for the G.’
‘So not the BFG…?’
She shakes her head.
‘You’re the Gwinch!’ Lottie declares, smiling up at me, blue eyes sparkling as she plants her pudgy little hands on either side of my cheeks. ‘You’remyGwinch.’
