“Thank you,” I smile. “But I couldn’t take Lily’s clothes. They’re yours. They’re special.”
A grateful look crosses her face before she gets back to business. “Aria’s five, so she’ll need to be enrolled in school. I’ll need you to give your dad a call and find out which school he would prefer she attends and I’ll sort it from there.”
“School?” Aria questions, looking horrified.
“Yes, school,” Violet confirms. “Have you never been before?” Aria shakes her head. “Don’t be afraid, sweetheart. School is awesome. You’ll meet so many new friends and learn all about the world.”
Excitement lights her eyes. “Really?”
“Of course,” Violet says before looking back up at me. “Now, do you have enough money to cover it all?”
My heart shatters realizing that this is going to completely destroy my ‘Get the hell out of here’ fund, but I wouldn’t have it any other way, and as Noah so kindly let me know, I won’t be needing a ‘Get the hell out of here’ fund anymore. I have to admit, I kind of liked the idea of having all that spare cash, you know, just in case. “I think I should be able to cover it,” I tell her. “But dad left his credit card for emergencies, so I’ll be fine.”
“That’s what I like to hear,” she smiles. “But I’m just a call away if you need any help. Now, Aria here is looking a little malnourished,” she tells me, making my eyes flick back to my little sister to take her in. I start at the top and make my way down and I suck in a breath, realizing she’s right. How could I have not realized this before? “I was planning on taking her down to the clinic to get her checked over,” Violet continues before her eyes widen. “Oh, am I overstepping a line here? Would you prefer to take her yourself?”
“Oh, no, no,” I quickly ease her mind. “I feel like I’m already out of my league here. Maybe it’s better if you do it. I mean, I probably wouldn’t even understand what the doctor is trying to tell me. I…I don’t want to screw her up when I just got her.”
“Trust me, there’s not a lot you could do to screw up a kid. I raised Noah and Tully and they turned out alright.”
“Really?” Rivers grunts.
“Shut up, you,” Violet chuckles before addressing the whole table. “Is everyone clear on your jobs? Do I need to repeat anything?”
Everyone nods and with that, shit gets sorted, my mind finally eases and the terror within my soul disappears. I can do this. I have all these people by my side, making sure I’m alright and something tells me that Violet is going to be knocking on my door every night, checking that I’m cooking enough vegetables.
Chapter 11
Three days of being a temporary parent and I’m ready to throw in the towel. There’s mess, whining, tantrums, and that’s only the beginning of it. It gets worse, much, much worse. I mean, where’s the privacy? Last night she barged in on my shower and sat on the toilet pooping, smiling at me while swinging her legs back and forth. Apparently, watching me try to cover my tits and pussy while slamming my ass against the cold tiles and screaming at the shampoo sliding down into my eyes was the funniest thing she’s ever seen.
Me? I didn’t quite agree.
It was horrendous. There’s no other way to describe it.
As soon as dad gets home, he’ll be tasked with fixing the lock on the bathroom door. I seriously couldn’t cope with a repeat performance of that.
Don’t get me wrong, the little turd has grown on me like you wouldn’t believe. She’s seriously fighting Tully and Kaylah for best friend status and considers herself cooler than them because she’s the one who gets to come home with me each day.
It’s definitely an adjustment, but we’re quickly falling into our own routine, but if I have to hear the theme song for ‘SpongeBob Square Pants’ one more time, I’ll probably scream. I mean, the kid is seriously obsessed, but it makes it worth it listening to her cackle like a little witch at its ridiculousness.
“Aria?” I call out from the bathroom. “Have you brushed your teeth?”
“Yes,” she yells back.
“Are you lying again?”
There’s a slight pause and I stick my head out of the bathroom door and watch her breathe into her hand before giving it a good old sniff. “I don’t need to brush them,” she tells me. “I did it yesterday.”
Oh, good Lord. “You still have to brush them. It’s not like an every now and then kind of thing, it’s like a morning and night kind of thing.”
She appears in the bathroom doorway. “What?” she demands with a serious pout. “But I don’t want to. It tastes yucky.”