One More Time

“Yeah,” I muttered, running a hand through my hair, “you can say that again.”

Hannah's blonde hair was still damp, and droplets ran down her forehead. Even without makeup, her complexion was perfect. She walked over to the couch and sat down beside me, the robe riding up high on her thigh. My hand itched to reach out and stroke the soft flesh, but I cracked my knuckles instead. Resisting the urge was hard sometimes, especially since I could remember every curve of her body by heart.

“I'm sure it'll get easier, Eli,” she said.

“I think I'm more surprised that you're being nice to me,” I said.

While I was mostly taunting her, there was some truth to my words. Hannah and I might have hooked up, at one time, but that only seemed to make her harsher toward me. Almost like she'd resented what we'd done. Guilt could do terrible things, but I hated what it had done to our relationship.

Hannah playfully punched me in the shoulder.

“Ah, there's the old Hannah back. Beating me up, just like old times,” I said.

“Oh, shut up, Eli,” she laughed. “Just because you'd never hit a girl. That was the only reason I ever won anything.”

“You say that like it's a bad thing,” I said.

“Just because I'm a girl doesn't mean you have to go easy on me,” she said, rolling her eyes. “You and dad both seem to act like I'm a fragile, delicate china doll or something. You keep secrets from me, you act like you're protecting me from shit without letting me decide for myself –”

“Whoa there, Hannah Banana, if I didn't know better, I'd say this is about more than just you kicking my ass when we were kids,” I said, standing up and putting my hands up in surrender. “No, I don't believe in hitting girls, and it has nothing to do with your gender. It's because I'm at least a foot taller than you and about two, maybe even three times your weight.”

Hannah stood up and walked toward me, a look of pure determination on her face. I couldn't tell if she was amused or simply looking for a fight. After everything we'd been through today, the last thing I wanted was to fight with her. She was the only person who offered to help me. As much as it pained me to admit, I needed her. Not to mention the fact that I cared about her and hated to see that look of hatred turned toward me.

“So you're saying, if I was as big and tall as you, female or not, you'd punch me back?”

I shrugged. I couldn't really say for sure, but if it made her happy, I could lie. “Sure. It's nothing to do with you being a girl,” I said.

“So you gonna teach Aubree there how to fight, not treat her like a delicate little flower?” Hannah said.

I shrugged again. “If she wants to, sure, and if I'm around to see her grow up.”

Hannah punched me in the chest, this time, she wasn't holding back.

“What do you mean if you're around to see her grow up? Shit, Eli, you can't still be thinking about putting her into the system,” she said. “Are you?”

“I don't know what I'm thinking, okay!” I shouted, a little too loudly.

Aubree started screaming in her crib, and I pushed past Hannah to get to her. The baby's face was contorted into a pissed off expression that would rival even my stepsister on her grumpiest day. I picked the child up in my arms and cradled her, trying my best to talk soothingly to her.

Hannah shook her head. “Unbelievable.”

“What?” I asked.

“That you could look at your child, your flesh and blood, and still consider turning your back on her,” Hannah said.

She stormed through the living and into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her, leaving me alone with Aubree. The child continued crying, and I tried my best to calm her down. It felt hopeless. The more she cried, the more upset I became. Not at Aubree, but at myself. I was a failure. I wasn't cut out for this fatherhood shit, why couldn't Hannah see that?

I rocked Aubree, talked to her, tried everything I could think of – to no avail. The crying continued for at least fifteen minutes before Aubree quieted down and fell asleep in my arms, sucking on her fist. Her hands were so tiny, and everything about her just felt fragile. I was so big and bulky, and she was so small. I feared I could break her so easily by moving the wrong way or dropping her. There were so many ways to accidentally hurt a child, and I was sure that left to my own devices, this little girl would end up hurt or worse.

If only Hannah could see that. If only she could see what a disaster I'd be as a father.

I continued staring down at Aubree long after she fell asleep, and despite myself, felt a smile forming on my lips. It was hard not to smile at a sleeping baby in your arms, especially after you managed to comfort them enough for them to fall asleep in the first place. I guess you'd consider that one sm

all victory.

The sound of soft clapping pulled my gaze away from Aubree. Hannah stood in the doorway between the bedroom and living room, lightly tapping her hands together. She was smiling at me, a grin that made my heart skip a beat.

Her robe hung off one shoulder, giving me a glimpse of her bare, smooth skin. I felt a stirring in my crotch as Hannah and I stared at one another. For that brief moment, I forgot about everything but her. I was focused on nothing but her standing there, with a skimpy robe, and a smile on her beautiful face.