Flower Girl | h.s.

46.*

A few weeks later - May.

7AM - Daisy

"Sorry, Brooks, I think we only have bagels and waffles this morning."

I start spreading the peanut butter on my own toasted bagel, licking my thumb as a bit of it gets on me. Turning back towards the little boy, I try to navigate what he wants for breakfast before school.

"I want Pop-Tarts." He groans, letting his lip out a bit.

Lottie is sitting at the counter, finishing up some studying for a test that she had that day with a bowl of cereal in front of her. Brooks is back at the table with a solid cup of juice that I poured him before he could think of what he wanted for breakfast.

"We need to go to the store," I simply say to myself, as I search through the fridge once again. I take a bite of my bagel, my eyes looking at the fridge.

We've started a simple routine– I'm usually up with the kids in the morning because I'm also getting myself ready to go to work. School finals are coming up, which has been incredibly stressful considering they're the last ones I'll ever have. They feel relatively personal, like everything I've learned has come to that point.

Harry takes care of house details like going to the store, cleaning, taking the kids to the dentist and doctor, making appointments, sports events– all of that revolves around him during the day. Our dinners and evenings vary depending on the day. Brooks has soccer practice, Lottie has field hockey, and sometimes Harry works night shifts, which means I'm usually home to make dinner or help with homework.

It has started to really feel like we're working as a team. There's been a shift in him– I can't really describe it. There seems to be a piece of him that is more accepting of feeling rather than pushing away emotions.

It's like he's more free. It might have something to do with the fact that on this particular day, he is going in for the final interview for the job that he had been pursuing.

He had done the initial phone interview, which he said had gone really well. Then, he did a video call with a few people, but today is the big day.

Today he goes in to meet everyone and to give them a sense of who he really is. From what I understand, he's been doing really well. I just hope that he can continue that momentum while he's there and doesn't get in his head.

That's the one thing that I worry about. I worry that small setbacks will hurt him, or that he'll get discouraged by the disappointments. I know that he wants this job– he wants to be able to move forward and upwards with a career that he loves. It has taken him quite a while to find what he loves aside from his hobbies.

The truth was: it has never been about him. Since I've been here, I've tried my best to make it all about him. The kids are just extensions of him, but he's his own man. He needs to identify with himself rather than his duties as a brother. Moving in with them for an extended period of time has allowed him to realize that, I think.

"I'll have a bagel, I guess." Brooks leans on his arm as I can see the unimpressed face he pulls from over at the table. I chuckle a bit at his optimism, "Put cim-a-nim Pop-Tarts on the list, please."

The small family grocery list that is held on the fridge has Pop-Tarts in Harry's scratchy handwriting, which makes my heart hurt from the subtle knowingness that Harry has. He's already got it on there because he takes note of the small things.

"It's already on there, bud."

I turn my eyes to see that Harry's moved his way into the kitchen without another sound. It is obvious that we're all staring at him– this isn't the same man who wears his Adidas hoodie and running shorts at that hour before he goes on a workout.