Unable to avoid or change course, Jess ran right into me, bouncing off my leg and onto her bottom, looking more surprised than anything.
“Are you okay, sweetheart?” I asked, putting the pile of games down on a nearby table and scooping up my little niece.
“Owie,” she said more as a matter of fact than an expression of pain.
I kissed her on the cheek, and she giggled, sounding so much like her mother, my heart broke a little. But it also warmed. Rather than seeing Jess as a reminder of what I had lost, I recognized her for what she was. A little bit of Simone that I still had with me.
“Are you crying, Uncle Dean?” Jessica asked as I held her close.
“No, sweetheart,” I said.
I wasn't, I wanted to. Everything in me screamed to just let it out and open the flood gates, but I persevered, showing a near Vulcan level of emotional control. I realized then that repressing wasn't always healthy.
“What are the games about, Dean?” Becky asked, going through the boxes.
“I thought I would take Saturday off and we could have a game day.”
“Yay!” Jessica enthused.
“Really?” Becky asked, more surprised than sarcastic.
I smiled at her, delighted when her cheeks turned pink in a slight blush. Things were changing, in a good way.Chapter Eight - BeckyI could hardly believe the change. I had heard of on-a-dime conversions but had never seen such a thing playing out in front of me. Seemingly overnight, Dean went from cold and disinterested, distracting himself with work while still thinking he had a right to be an authority figure to really involved with his little niece.
He still worked but much more regular hours, limiting himself to six or seven hours a day at most, coming out and eating meals with us like clockwork. He also seemed to show genuine interest in everything Jessica had to say.
My boss was also really different with me. No longer standoffish and rude, Dean had become sweet, attentive and, honestly, really gentle. Often asking if there was anything he could do to help. I started to think that the attention he showed that day at lunch was not a spur of the moment thing. If I was honest, I was beginning to feel the same. And not just because he ate my pussy so damn good!
Since Dean’s apparently epiphany after his confession, he showed a completely different side of himself. One I quickly realized that I could come to deeply love, given time. There was a bit of an age difference, Dean being a full decade older than me. Not to mention the slight cultural differences, Dean spending most of his twenties in England and his entire life in a social strata I couldn't really even imagine. I had an idea, based mostly on rumor and second-hand accounts but realized that I really had no idea what it was like or what he might have been through. Especially after he got in trouble. I had never really felt bad for the rich. Assuming that they had everything they wanted and could do whatever they felt like. I was quickly beginning to reassess this notion. Realizing that while it might be true for some, Dean was, at the very least, an exception to the rule.
We went into the parlor, Dean carrying Jessica, her cheek pressed against his muscular chest. I hadn't really noticed before, but my boss really was in great shape. I followed close behind, carrying the pile of games he had selected. I didn't really feel much of a sense of modesty anymore, Jessica being a little girl and Dean having seen most of what I had anyway. As such, I opted for comfort, wearing just a pair of yoga shorts with a tank top. Truth be told, had it seemed appropriate, I likely would have just gone naked.
I had been raised to be very proud and open with my body, my parents both seeing the human form as a thing of beauty and really just another part of nature. It was so-called “civilization” with all of its, mostly religiously-based, hang-ups that made people feel bad about themselves.
Setting the games down on the coffee table, we sat together on the couch. Jessica sat on Dean's lap, and he let her pick the game we played first. To my surprise, she chose Trivial Pursuit. I wouldn't have really expected her to know what that was. Apparently, she was a bit of a hustler, leaving both Dean and me in her dust, only Dean getting close to catching her. I really did have to wonder if intelligence was genetic. I didn't think of myself as being particularly slow but also really never considered that I might get my ass kicked at a trivia game by a six-year-old. Dean also seemed to be taking his defeat really well.