“I think the only way you could get me in a bubble bath is if…” His words trail off, and I’m left to fill in the blanks all by myself. My heart thumps again: Hope. Hope. Hope. “Never mind.” He clears his throat. “I’m good though. I have plenty of energy,” he says, sounding like a dehydrated man having to be carried across the finish line of a triathlon. “Let me come with you. Please.”
I can never say no to his pleases. They are made of tiny little strings that wrap around my heart and squeeze.
“Fiiiine, you can come with me. But fair warning, there’s going to be a lot of chaos. Screaming, dancing, cake flying everywhere, and that’s all just coming from me.”
He chuckles, and an image of his dimples pops into my mind. I remember the way he looked lying in his bed before I woke him up the other morning. In my mind, I go to him there in his room like I have a hundred times before, except now, I have a perfect image to accompany me. I tiptoe in quietly and gently lift the covers back. I slide in and it’s like a sauna in there because Nathan always runs at a thousand degrees. He feels me move beside him and hums a sleepy sound before wrapping his big arm around me and pulling me in tight. His breath tickles my hair and his skin is hot all around me.
“I’ve been warned,” Nathan says, puncturing my fantasy.
“Good night, Nathan.”
“Night, Bree.”
Nathan was supposed to pick me up after practice, and we were going to go together to the birthday party. Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to slip out early like he hoped and texted me this afternoon saying I should go on ahead without him and he would catch up as soon as he could. The thing is, Lily’s house is not just down the street. It’s a two-hour drive, and my nephew’s sixth birthday party is a completely ridiculous reason for Nathan to drive two hours out of the way after a long day of practice. I tell him this over text with lots and lots of exclamation marks, but he just responds the same way he did last night: I’ll be there.
I make it to Lily’s house about half an hour before the party. Good thing too because my entrance is so epic it would show everyone else up and make them feel terrible for their mediocre existence in life. I am The Fun Aunt. Aka, I don’t have any kids yet and therefore still enjoy running wild around the house, screaming and flailing my arms like a monster on the hunt for little boys while my sister hides in the bathroom with the glass of wine I’ve poured her.
I throw open the front door and hold my hands up in the air, showing off my bling. “Holla! Aunt Bree is in the house!” I’m decked out with Ring Pops on every finger. Three candy necklaces adorn my neck, and a superhero cape is draped over my shoulders. Gift bags full of Legos, water guns, and bubble gum （because what kid doesn’t like bubble gum） are cutting off the circulation of my forearms.
I hear the stampede of nephews before I see them. I brace for impact as they run down the stairs, scream my praises, and hug my legs, and then one by one, I’m robbed of my loot. They don’t even leave me with a single Ring Pop! The little footpads run off, and all I see is a haze of birthday bags as they brush past my sister, who is now approaching in the hallway with a scary smirk.
She levels me with a frosty glare. “You brought sugar into my house when I already had CAKE AND ICE CREAM?!”
“No.” I shake my head aggressively. “You misunderstood what you saw. Those were broccoli pops.”
“And the candy necklaces?”
“Vitamins.”
At this, she cracks a gorgeous smile and opens her arms. “Get over here and hug me you terrible, terrible sister.”
Mid-hug, I hear the door open behind me and my mom’s voice trill through the air. “My babies are hugging!! HAROLD, GRAB THE BAGS YOURSELF! MY GIRLIES ARE HUGGING!”
Mom barrels into us next and squeezes with all her motherly might. She fusses over Lily first and smacks her right butt cheek. “You haven’t been eating enough. Don’t worry, I’ll fix it while I’m here.” She looks over her shoulder and calls to our dad, who we’ve yet to see. “HAROLD, BRING IN THE CASSEROLE!” Of course Mom made a casserole.