“What yurt?” Fee asks, askance.
“Any yurt. Any place you want to live, as long it’s with me.”
“You wouldn’t like to live in the new ’partment,” Lulu intones seriously as, hand on my cheek, she steers my attention her way. “The heating is fucked.”
“Lulu!”
Even I know you’re not supposed to laugh, but I do. Hell, do I.
“Well, that’s what the man said who came to fix it. It’s true, Mommy, remember? The man with the fat bum hanging out of his pants.”
“Okay, so that’s true.”
“I told you. The man with the big bum said—”
“Lulu, enough. I need to speak to Uncle Carson.” The little girl quietens in my arms. “The heat isn’t working, but that doesn’t mean we should rush into things.”
“Rush?”
“Yes. This really has been a whirlwind, but it’s only been a few weeks.”
“Months,” I argue.
“Okay, a couple of months,” she agrees. “Which is technically also a few weeks.”
I don’t give a fuck how long it is but if she wants to play it this way, okay.
“Fine. Then you and Lulu will move back in. I’ll go live under some other roof. Maybe a canvas one. Or maybe under a bridge, if I have to.”
“Right,” Fee jeers. “Maybe you’ll get a room at the Y again.”
“Or maybe a shop doorway.”
“Like the people with no homes we learned about at school?” Lulu’s expression is the very picture of concern.
“You play dirty, Mr Hayes,” Fee mutters, unamused. Her eyes sweep rapidly over me before she schools her expression again.
“And that’s why you love me.” And why you look at me as though you want to ride my face.
“Look, we’ll all go back to your fancy apartment together and figure this out. But only,” she says, brandishing a finger my way, “because it would not do for Lulu to announce at her very exclusive and private school that her Uncle Carson lives under a bridge. Even if he’s more troll-like than unfortunate.”
“I can assume the demeanour of unfortunate, if it helps.” When I do, I can see she’s trying very hard not to laugh.
“Innocence!” she cries. “He tried it on, but it just didn’t fit.” I try another expression only to hear her say this time, “Now you just look more troll-like than ever.”
“And like a troll, I’m gonna let this billy goat gruff go over the bridge because I have a bigger billy goat in my sights!” Lulu giggles as I drop her to the couch, quickly rounding it to grab hold of Fee. “You know what trolls do to billy goat’s right?”
“I believe they eat them,” she whispers, biting back a grin.
“When the littlest billy goat isn’t around,” I whisper into her neck, relishing her shiver. “Come live in sin with me, Fee. I don’t think I can wait long to make an honest woman out of you.”
“Uncle Car,” says a little voice from behind. “I think you can be the daddy now. And then we’ll get a puppy and a maybe a baby brother.”
Fee body shakes against my own as she begins to giggle. “See what you’ve gotten yourself into now?”
“Just one baby brother, huh?” Glancing over my shoulder, I shoot Lulu a wink. “You don’t think Norman would like a brother, too?”
“But he’s a rabbit. I think Mommy would need a daddy rabbit to make a rabbit baby.”
“This conversation is far too surreal for Sunday morning,” Fee decrees, taking my face in her hands. “You should go and get changed. Your presence is requested at breakfast, remember.”
“Yes, I remember.” The French inquisition. “No one ever expects the French inquisition.”
She snorts this cute little noise, bringing her hand to her mouth to giggle behind. “You’re not twisting Monty Python quotes.”
“With ruthless efficiency,” I reply, doing so again.
With promises of a swift return, I press a kiss to Lulu’s dark head and then another, with a very different kind of tone, to the lips of her mother. I slip on my jacket, which Remy had so helpfully delivered to the door of the suite last night, along with a warning glower and some unrepeatable rapid French. I get as far as the door when Lulu comes bursting from the other bedroom.
“Wait for me!”
“Lu, Uncle Carson will be back soon.”
“Daddy,” she corrects with a scowl. “And I just want to walk him to the door to say goodbye.”
“Honey, this is the door.” Then I notice she has her slippers on.
“Not this door, silly. The one to the outside.”
And that’s how I find myself in the elevator on the way down to the lobby, accompanied by the loveliest but most insistent escort in the world.
“Psst.” Lulu tugs on the elevator attendant’s liveried sleeve. “I have my dressing gown on,” she whispers, sotto voce.
“So I see,” he whispers back.
“This is my new daddy. We’re making sure Daddy leaves,” she whispers next. I feel more than hear Fee’s snuffling laugh. “He didn’t bring his toothbrush or clean underwear because he didn’t know this was a sleepover.”