“Okay, we’ll talk while we do hair. Do you know what dress and shoes you want to wear because we have to leave in three sets of five?” He held up his hand, making a five.
Tabby used to have nebulization treatments that lasted five minutes, so she instinctively knew that time increment well. If he told her fifteen minutes, she’d haveno concept of how much time that took. But for whatever reason, she knew exactly how much she could get done in sets of five minutes. It was pretty extraordinary.
Wardrobe was always the most difficult part of getting her out of the house these days. She changed her outfit a minimum of twice, and a maximum of five times just to go to the park. So clothes were always his first stop with her. Leaving OOTD till the last minute was a rookie mistake.
“I’ll go pick out my dress and shoes.” Tabby hopped off the couch and ran to the stairs. “Come on, Rocco.”
Deacon made his way upstairs behind his girl and her sidekick and quickly changed into slacks and a white shirt. As he pulled on the button-down, he realized it was the shirt Jen had worn when he’d told her to put on a shirt and wait for him. He knew that because it had a tiny lipstick stain on the collar. It was barely noticeable, in fact,hehadn’t noticed it.
After Jen left that morning he’d packed the shirt separately and hung it up when he got home to Seattle, and never planned on wearing it again, because it smelled like her. But when he was packing to move to California, his cleaner was helping him with his closet and noticed the stain. She tried to get it out and washed it, and when she couldn’t remove the stain, she threw it away. Later, when he asked where the shirt was that had been hanging up, she explained what had happened. Thankfully, it was the same day, so he’d been able to retrieve it and not lose it forever. By that time, it had lost its smell anyway, so washing it hadn’t ruined that, and her discovering the lipstick stain actually made it more special to him because a smell was temporary, but the lipstick stain was still there, it would be forever.
“Shit,” he cursed under his breath when he realizedhe’d just wasted he didn’t know how long staring at his reflection at astainon his collar.
He had to get over this woman and get on with his life. It was driving him crazy. She was driving him crazy. He had to forget her. It was the same thing he’d told himself the day before, and the day before that. Maybe one day, it would work.
11
A quick checkof the time revealed they needed to leave in ten minutes. He quickly finished getting ready. Grabbed his suit jacket, a towel, the detangler, a pick, hair accessory baggie and headed downstairs.
The couch was their official hair-doing headquarters, a spot chosen less for ergonomic considerations and more for its optimal line-of-sight to the television, which was essential. The morning routine was sacred, a choreography of detangling and style negotiations.
He’d just sat down when Tabby and Rocco came bounding down the stairs. She was in her newest pink dress, which was chosen for “maximum twirly effect.” She got it a few months ago in Boston for Cillian’s newest arrival, Aisling’s christening. Deacon was all four girls godfather, Cillian was also Tabby’s godfather. At every one of his girl’s christenings, Cillian always gave Tabby a present and sometimes a new nickname. Aisling’s was an American Girl doll, and her new nickname was Princess Ninja Flower.
“Look at you, Beautiful!"
She spun around, then reminded him, “Princess Ninja Flower.”
He smiled. “Right, sorry.”
Tabby plopped in front of him, legs criss-cross applesauce, hands neatly folded in her lap. She angled her head, presenting the back of her hair with a resigned sigh. “Just don’t use the ouchy brush.”
“Never again,” he promised, picking up the wide-tooth pick. Once he’d tried a brush that promised a no-pain experience, needless to say, it was false advertising. He draped the towel around her neck like a superhero’s cape. The smell of Suave Kids Silly Apple filled the air, a scent he would always associate with these mornings, this house, and this version of family they’d built together as he doused her curls with it.
He ran a gentle hand down Tabby’s hair, feeling for knots. It was still soft from last night’s bath, mostly free of the tiny elastics she liked to leave as “Easter eggs” for him to find as a result of her creative personal stylings. He only found two. He started the pick at her scalp and worked it down, detangling with a patience that had taken years to develop. Rocco, bored by the lack of commotion, curled up at Deacon’s side, snuffling at the air.
“Hey, Tabs?” he said, voice lowered to signal the shift from small talk to a capital-I Important Conversation. “Remember how I told you that Grandad and Grandma weren’t my biological parents?”
She nodded. “You’re adopted, like Annie.” Annie was her favorite orphan. Not that she knew a lot.
“Well, I found out who my biological parents are.”
Tabby twisted around so fast she nearly took the towel with her. “You did? Who are they? Are they nice? Can we meet them?”
He hesitated. “They... died a long time ago. Before you were born.”
For a moment, Tabby’s face went still. Then she scrambled up, turned fully around, and wrapped her arms around his neck, almost knocking him backward. “I’m so sorry, Daddy.”
He smiled into her hair and held her close. “Thank you, ladybug, but I’m okay. I really am.”
She tilted her head, peering at him with a skepticism that bordered on clinical. “Are you sure?”
“Positive.” He gave her a little squeeze, then nudged her back toward her hair appointment. “But my biological dad, had other kids, so I have four sisters and a brother.”
She gasped. “You do?!”
“I do.” He continued working out the knots and then began to pull her hair half up and put it in a ponytail. “And some of my sisters have kids, so you have cousins.”
“Cousins?” She said it with such reverence, as if she’d just unlocked a cheat code to life.
