“Liar.” I tickle her as I walk to her sisters, who are both smiling. “Hey, my sweet girls,” I whisper, then kiss each of their heads, gaining a “Hey, Mimi” in return before I carry Ruby around the counter. I place her on the stepstool she was standing on then watch over her shoulder as she picks up the whisk from the bowl and starts to spin it through the green goo again. “What are you making?”
“Slime.”
“Slime,” I repeat on a horrified whisper, spinning around to look at my sister. When her eyes meet mine, I raise a brow, watching her shrug one shoulder in response. Weak, I mouth, and she rolls her eyes before going back to her call. She is weak, if you ask me. When I saw slime had come back, I was the first to buy it, having no idea that the fun gunk from my childhood had mutated and become something that no one can control. I gave a half-gallon bucket of the stuff to my nieces, as any good aunt would do. It was a disaster. The neon-pink goo had spread from one end of the house to the other, getting stuck to places and in places slime has no business being. After that last experience, Cece and I vowed we would never let the girls have slime again. I guess that didn’t include Ruby making her own.
I take the whisk from my niece and tap it on the side of the bowl before setting it on the counter, ignoring the puddle it’s leaving. “How about,” I start without acknowledging her pout, “we let this sit for a few, so it can reach maximum stickiness, and watch a movie?”
“Frozen 2?” she asks with a happy look on her face while both her sisters groan in disapproval. I don’t blame them. I think I’ve watched the movie more than anyone ever should. No matter how adorable Olaf is or how catchy the songs are, there is only so many times one person can watch it before they are admitted into an insane asylum.
“I was thinking we should watch something new.” I carry her around to the couch and pick up the remote for the TV.
“Like what?” she asks. Standing on the cushion while wrapping her arms around my neck and bouncing. I drag her down into my lap as her sisters join us then flip through the movies that have been recorded on the DVR. When I see Adventures in Babysitting on the list, I smile and press Play.
“You’ll love this one.” I kiss the top of her head then hold her against my chest with Lola leaning into me and Kate snuggled into her twin.
“I’m gonna go get ready for work,” Cece says, stopping at the end of the couch as the movie starts, and I meet her gaze, noticing the ever-present shadow of sadness in her eyes. These past few months have been an adjustment for her. It’s not just her marriage ending; it’s that she no longer gets to spend every possible moment with her girls, which is something she loved doing.
“You okay?”
At my question, she glances at the kids quickly, and I want to kick my own ass for asking her that question in front of them. She doesn’t want them to worry; she doesn’t want them to know any more than they do about what happened between her and their dad, and I admire her for that.
“I’m good. I just wish I was staying home and watching movies with you four.”
“You can stay with us, Mommy,” Ruby says in her sweet little voice as she stands. I grasp onto her hand as she walks across the cushions to the armrest then cringe with worry as she jumps down to go to her mom.
“I wish, baby girl,” Cece says, picking her up. “But I’ll be home with you guys on Friday night.” She tucks her face into Ruby’s neck, closing her eyes. When Cece leans back, Ruby touches her forehead to her mom’s, and my heart melts. I love seeing my sister with her girls, and seeing her with them always makes me question what I want for myself.
The idea of having a child freaks me out. It’s not just carrying a living human inside my body for nine months, but the whole being responsible for another person for the rest of my life is too daunting to even think about. For the past few years, I’ve lived my life day-to-day with no real thought of the future, and with a child, you don’t have a choice but to think about what will happen in a week, a month, or in a few years. Plus, there is the fact that I have yet to find a man I would even think about having a kid with. That doesn’t mean I don’t hear that clock with egg-shaped numbers constantly tick-tick-ticking away.