The Imperfections

Mackenzie shifts against me and yawns, so I look down at her.

She’s cute as a button all the time, but today she’s even more dolled up than usual. Alyssa dressed her up in a Thanksgiving-themed outfit: a football-brown shirt with little ruffles on the shoulders, and a bright orange skirt with white polka dots and a turkey on it. Mackenzie alternates between petting the turkey on her leg and messing with the suspenders keeping her skirt attached.

Alyssa put half of her blonde hair up in a pony tail on top of her head like she does sometimes and left the other half down. The half she put up bounces every time Mackenzie moves, so when she tips her little head back and fixes her big blue eyes on me, her ponytail moves right along with her.

Pointing at the television, she asks, “Santa?”

I nod. “Yep. Jolly old St. Nick. He’ll be paying you a visit and putting some presents under the Christmas tree for you in just a few weeks.”

“Presents?”

Mackenzie has a habit of making every word she says sound like the most interesting and thought-provoking thing in the whole world. You’d think I’d be used to it by now, but just like her mama, she never fails to draw a smile out of me.

“Yep, lots of presents,” I verify.

Hearing something he likes, Thompson looks back at us. “I’m gonna get lots of presents, too. I’m gonna get a Nerf Blaster! I’m gonna be like, pew pew pew pew,” he says as he mimics blasting and destroying every available surface.

That probably is about what he’ll do if my sister caves in and buys the little shit a Nerf Blaster, too.

Beside me, Mackenzie mimics her cousin. “Pew, pew, pew, pew.”

“No, no, no, no,” I tell her, scooping her up.

She curves her little arm around my shoulder as I settle her on my hip, and she looks around to see where we’re going.

“You wanna go see what Mommy’s up to?” I ask her.

“Yeah,” she answers, bobbing her head.

As my niece runs past us back into the living room, I haul Mackenzie into the kitchen. Our entrance isn’t immediately noticed, as I realize when I overhear the tail end of what Bri and Alyssa are talking about as they stand at the center island.

“I’m so nervous. What if Brant hates him?” Bri agonizes.

“Brant is not going to hate him,” Alyssa assures her as she adds a layer to something in a casserole dish. “From what you’ve told me, Carl’s amazing, and he makes you happy. You know that’s all Brant cares about.”

“I know, but he’s divorced.”

“Because his skank wife cheated on him with a child abuser,” Alyssa says, disbelief clear in her tone. “Brant is not going to hold that against him. If anything, he’ll be impressed that he took on full custody.”

I don’t feel right eavesdropping, so I clear my throat and step a little farther into the room. “It sure smells good in here, doesn’t it?” I remark, looking over at Mackenzie.

Her eyes light up and she reaches her hand toward the counter next to us. “Cookie, cookie!” She stops grabbing for them long enough to clutch the neck of my shirt and demand my serious consideration. “Daddy, cookie?”

God, she’s so fucking cute. I want to tell her she can’t have a cookie before dinner, but the way those blue eyes sparkle with excitement, I can’t bring myself to do it. “All right, but only one,” I say firmly.

She bobs forward and kisses me, then turns her body and all of her attention toward that counter until I walk over and get her a cookie off the tray.

Deeply amused, Alyssa tries to chide me. “Those are for after dinner, you know.”

As Mackenzie grips her cookie with both hands and takes a bite, I turn around to look at my wife. Her long blonde hair is down around her shoulders, just the way I like it. A few locks hang down and cover her full breasts. As lovely as those breasts are, my gaze drops a little lower to her protruding belly.

Alyssa catches my gaze and absently runs a hand over her rounded tummy, smoothing out her dress. “It’s impolite to stare,” she jokes.

“I have terrible manners,” I inform her.

It’s too hard to stay too far away from her when we’re in the same room, so I wander over next to her and lean in for a kiss.

Alyssa stops what she’s doing to wrap her arm around my waist while she kisses me, then she pulls back, her blue-green eyes sparkling with pleasure. “Hi.”

“Hi,” I answer back.

Her gaze drops as she checks me out, even though she saw me before we left the house and she’s seen me plenty since, too. “God, you look good in that sweater,” she tells me. “I’d make you put a baby in me, but… well.”