You were so fucking stupid. You couldn't for the life of you remember why you thought it was a good idea to break in your new pair of shoes, but you had. And now your feet were paying for it. To make matters worse, the entire city was covered in a thin layer of wet from the intermittent downpours you'd encountered throughout the day. You were making your way to pick up a dress you had ordered a couple months back when a taxi drove past a little too close and slung water all over your person. Your feet hurt, you were irritable, and now you were drenched to boot. It was safe to say your day was going terribly and the only thing getting you through it was the thought of going home to Charlie.
Charlie was going through the motions too, in his own way. Before the weatherman ruined their afternoon, he and Henry had a day of fun planned all their own. The two had intended to have a father-son outing while you ran your errands, which included going to a ball game, but since the sky chose to start sobbing on and off again, they were quick to pivot. The last you heard they were bouncing between book and toy stores, picking up puzzles and finding new things to read.
As you waited for a sales associate to help you, your phone vibrated in your purse. Naturally, it was Charlie checking in.
Charlie: What are you thinking for dinner? :)
His message brought a smile to your face. He was the ray of sunshine you needed. You were about to reply when another message came through.
Charlie: Henry votes for pizza, but you know him. He always wants pizza. Better question: Dinner in or out? We can still enjoy a night out with our kid, right?
Another message.
Charlie: My* kid. Until you say it, that was a typo.
Another.
Charlie: I miss you.
And another.
Charlie: I know I'm probably being paranoid on part of my typographical faux pas, but responding sooner rather than later would definitely make me feel better.
You couldn't help but laugh. You loved how he texted you in a stream of consciousness rather than one great big wall of text. It was and always had been his way.
You tapped out a response.
You: If It's still raining like this when I get back, staying in might not be such a bad idea. No need for the three of us to get soaked.
He must have been holding onto his phone because his reply came back instantly.
Charlie: Speak for yourself. ;)
You chuckled, covering your mouth, your heart feeling for him.
You: Besides, we wouldn't want our kid to catch a cold. 😘
Charlie: If we order in and you're still chilled, it'll give me a reason to cuddle you when you get home.
You: As if you needed an excuse to cuddle me. ❤️
Charlie: If I can distract Henry with a movie, we could always warm up in the shower together.
Charlie: Our kid, huh? I love you.
Just then, the associate finally made her way back. Her face let you know before she opened her mouth that she didn't have good news.
"So, I think there was a small error on our end when the order was placed. On the computer, it says you ordered 2 different sizes and we only received one size. Unfortunately, our stock is limited and this is a warehouse issue, but I'm happy to see if we have anything similar or even the same dress in a different size here if neither of these work for you."
You took a deep breath, feeling somewhat disappointed, but trying not to let it show. "It's okay. I understand. Things happen."
The associate gave you an apologetic smile. "Would you like me to get a fitting room ready for you?"
You nodded. "That would be great, yes, thank you."
--
As luck would have it, despite the dresses being labeled as being the same size, one was a better fit. The associate helping you also found something you liked just as much and you wound up returning one of the mixup items you ordered and purchasing the second dress instead. Before you left, you recalled Charlie needing dress socks so you picked up a couple of pairs for him as well.
You were checking out when your phone rang. Charlie. You had completely forgotten to text back.
"Honey, I am so sorry."
He chuckled lightly on the other end of the line. "It's okay, sweetheart. I assumed you probably got caught up handling everything with your dress."
You could hear him gulping down a beverage. "How'd it go? Did you find what you needed?"
"There was an issue with what I ordered, but long story short--I have two dresses now."
"Two of the same?"
"Two different dresses."
"Oh. Hmm."
"I thought, at the very least, I have a backup for the trip."
"That's true."
"We might want to go to dinner or something."
"We might."
"Are you eating?"
"Mno."
"No?"
You could tell he was quickly trying to chew. "Charlie?"
"Mmhmm."
"What are you eating?"
"Mnahpeeza."
"Not pizza, huh?" You giggled. "Well, it sounds like it's some pretty good 'not pizza' to me."
"Henry was hungry again and I was too so we stopped to grab a couple of slices."
"Have a bite for me."
"Do you want me to bring home a couple of pieces for you? Have you eaten anything?"
You'd be lying if you said you didn't love the touch of worry he had in his voice, always concerned you had what you needed. It was the dad in him.
"I had the bagel with you and Henry this morning."
"Sweetheart."
"I'm okay, I promise."
"Well, whatever you want for dinner--name it and it's yours."
"See how Henry feels about deli or Thai?"
"A woman after my own heart."
You made sure your bag was closed and peered out the large department store windows. "The rain looks like it's letting up a little so I may try to sprint for the subway."
"Just take a cab, baby."
"Charlie, you know as well as I do, I'm going to get even more drenched waiting for a cab than I would running for the train."
He sighed. "Just be careful for me?"
"Always."
--
By the time you made it home, just as you predicted, you were soaked to the bone. Charlie's sixth sense about your arrival must have kicked in because he was waiting by the door. The warm smells of chocolate, cream, and cinnamon wafted through their air, filling your nostrils.
Henry was in pajamas on the couch with a large mug of hot chocolate, a cozy sight all bundled up in a blanket. He said your name excitedly as you stepped over the threshold. "Come sit with me!"
Charlie chuckled. "Give her a minute." He came over, taking your bags from you. His voice was tender. "Oh, my love. You're soaked." He was right. You were, the drops of water rolling off of you only affirming how wet you really were. He pressed his lips to yours, furrowing his brow when he felt your skin. "You're getting in the shower. I already have clothes and a towel for you in the dryer."
The look in your eyes must have said it all. Charlie peered over to see Henry engrossed with what he was watching and decided he could step away. You walked into the bathroom together and closed the door. Charlie reached into the shower to turn the water on.
"Did you shower already?" You asked, raising your arms as Charlie peeled the wet material from your body. He shook his head. "I changed into dry clothes, but I was waiting to shower with you." His lips languidly moved against yours, his fingers running along your back and working to unhook your bra. You were just beginning to help Charlie out of his own shirt when the sound of rapping on the bathroom door caused you both to jump.
"Dad!" Henry called out from the other side of the door.
Charlie brought his finger to your lips and smiled. "Yes, honey?"
"What are you doing?"
"I had to use the bathroom so I'm--" His son cut him off.
"--come watch B.F.G. with me."
"I'll be out in a minute, okay?"
"Are you pooping?"
"No. Henry. Go sit down and I'll be right there."
You could hear his resignation as he gave a frustrated sigh from the other side of the door. "Fine." The heavy step of his small feet trailing away from the door let you know you were alone again. Charlie placed his lips against your forehead and he moved to check the temperature of the running water.
"I'm sorry." His voice was sorrowful. His hands worked on your button and zipper before helping you shuck the damp denim from your legs. Your icy fingers unhooked your bra, letting it fall, and eased your panties down your thighs. You steadied yourself against Charlie as you stepped out of them. "I'll make it up to you once he goes to sleep."
"It's okay, honey."
"I just missed you so much today."
He placed your wet clothing on the counter and pulled you into his body, fully enveloping you, his warmth radiating onto you. He pulled back the curtain and helped you into the shower, kissing you once more.
--
A warm towel and fresh pajamas greeted you when you finally got out. Your two loves, big and little, were cozied up on the sofa and no sooner than you entered the room Charlie was reaching out for you.
"Hey." He threw back his portion of the large knit blanket covering the two of them, making room for you next to him on the couch, Henry under one arm and you cuddled into his side under the other. Only a Christmas card could have rivaled your cuteness; the three of you really were pretty as a picture.
"Still watching B.F.G.?" You asked, placing a soft kiss against Charlie's cheek.
"Nope. Darby O'Gill and the Little People."
"Ah."
Henry sneezed. "Dad only likes old movies."
"Bless you...and no I don't." Charlie reached for a tissue from the small box on the coffee table and handed it to him.
"Uh huh," Henry half argued, wiping his nose and gesturing to the screen. "This one's old."
"But it's new to you."
He pressed a kiss to Henry's crown before turning back to you. "I ordered deli. I hope that's okay. The only thing I could get Henry to agree to for Thai was something called "crab angel"--which going off the description was essentially just crab rangoon."
"I got chicken tenders and fries...and a hapemsposhen." Henry piped up, wiping off his hot chocolate mustache.
"Hamentaschen."
"Ham-en-tasch-en."
"I got your favorite, but didn't know if you'd want onion rings or fries so I got both. I thought we could share."
After dinner and a quarter of the way through Greyfriars Bobby, Henry succumbed to sleep. Charlie scooped him up and carried him off to bed, returning shortly sporting your favorite toothy grin; He was excited for some quality time with you. He waltzed over to where you were snuggled into the crook of the couch, bending down to capture your lips in a soft kiss. "Want me to open a bottle of wine? I thought we could watch something a little more adult. Midnight in Paris? Brazil? Grand Budapest? 9 Songs? We could always start the new season of Succession instead. I know you've been looking forward to that."
"I don't know about wine for me..." You said, crossing your arms and pretending to pout . "I never got a hot chocolate earlier."
Charlie grinned, leaning down to hover over you, his lips barely touching yours.
"Then we'll have to fix that, won't we?"
--
You were snuggled beneath the comforter, waiting for Charlie to finish brushing his teeth and locking up for the night; you were spread out in the bed, doing your best to warm the sheets. When he finally made it into the bedroom, he chuckled, amused you were taking up the entire bed. He put his hands on his hips as he stood on his side, beaming all the while. He flipped the covers back and rucked up your shirt, bending over to playfully nip at your side. "Let me in."
You yipped with glee, feeling his teeth against your skin, and smiled--ultimately moving over. Once you made room, he didn't waste a second crawling in beside you and nuzzling into your neck. His arm wrapped around your middle and you turned your head to face him.
His eyes studied every detail, memorizing your face exactly as you were. His smile mirrored yours and he leaned in, your lips barely touching in the softest kiss. He let them linger before parting your lips with his tongue, kissing you with intention. You moaned softly into his mouth and, as one touch led to another, you faded into each other.
When morning came, you managed to wake before Charlie for a change. You had every intention of rising without disturbing his sleep, especially since he so rarely slept in, but your body had other ideas. No sooner than you moved to get out of bed, you had the most excruciating shooting pain in your right foot. You yelped, cursing under your breath as the pain seared hot through the top of your foot and sole. Damn those shoes. They'd really done a number on your feet. You did your best to scooch out without disturbing him, but it was no use. You must have been louder than you thought. Charlie stirred behind you, his hand patting the mattress where you'd been; his fingers eventually came to find you near the edge of the bed. You moved slightly so you could see his face. His bedhead and sleepy little smile were almost too much for your heart to handle.
His voice was deep and rich with sleep. "Hey. Where you going? Come back to bed." You smiled, running your fingers through his hair. He propped himself up to kiss you, encouraging you to lean in. However, you quickly learned his sweet show of affection was a calculated ploy to get you back into bed. He tugged you down, pulling your body into his as he peppered your cheeks with kisses.
"I had planned on surprising you with coffee in bed." His arms tightened around you.
"This is better than coffee. Stay."
You hummed with content. "Better than coffee? You must really love me."
"You don't even know how much."
You settled into his arms and Charlie fell quiet, pensive. For a moment, you thought he had fallen back to sleep.
"Did I hear you cry out or did I dream that?"
"No, I did."
He kissed your forehead. "What's wrong?"
"My right foot kills. I think the shoes I wore yesterday were a little too tight, but I'm okay."
"Were these the ones for the wedding?"
"No, these were the ones Jules gave me that she bought and didn't like."
"Oh. Hmm. Well...do you mind if I take a look?"
"At my foot?"
"Yeah."
"Why?"
"Why not?"
You sighed. "Baby, I'm sure it's fine. It's probably just sore."
"Then let me look."
You rolled your eyes as you both sat up and Charlie got the light. He moved out of the bed, taking a minute to stretch and coming around to inspect your foot. If you were being honest, you meant to look last night when you got in, but you were so cold from being drenched that it didn't cross your mind. Did it hurt then? Yes, but you assumed it was from the ill-fit and your having tried to break in the shoe.
You sucked in a breath, hissing in pain as his hands gently assessed your foot.
"Sweetheart, you need an x-ray."
"Is it bad?"
He frowned, his voice heavy with concern. "Baby, the whole top of your foot is purple and swollen."
You raised up to have a better look. Sure enough, your foot looked pretty beaten up. "Fuck."
"Wiggle your toes for me?"
"Yes, Dr. Barber." You winced again, hissing out another breath as the pains shot through your foot.
Charlie worried his lip.
"Yeah, we should get you in to see a doctor. Sooner rather than later."
--
"It's definitely fractured." Dr. Santos looked over your x-ray, pointing out the areas on the image that corresponded with the bruises on your foot. "I'm going to prescribe you something mild for the pain, but just a couple so only use them when you really need them. Otherwise, the over the counter stuff will work just as well."
"Can I be up and about? I have a wedding to attend next week."
He looked over at you from the computer where he was typing up notes; it was obvious he was half listening.
"Oh, congratulations. How exciting. You can walk around if you have to, but I'd really prefer if you elevated and iced when you can. I'm going to put you in a walking boot and crutches. If you're moving a lot, use the crutches, but if you can fare without them, use your judgment. That foot's going to be out of commission for a while so take it easy. I want to see you back here in 6 weeks to see how things are healing."
You sighed and nodded. "Thank you."
He offered you a half smile. "The nurse will be in shortly with that boot."
No sooner than you came hobbling out of the office, you discovered Charlie and Henry sitting anxiously in the waiting area. Concern washed over Charlie's countenance as soon as he laid eyes on you. "Oh, my love."
You put on a brave face. "6 weeks."
"6 weeks? With the...?" He gestured to your boot and crutches and you nodded. "Everything's gonna be okay."
"Cool boot." Henry smiled as he bent down to poke at your toes. "We should cover it in stickers."
You giggled as his father made a face and kissed the top of his head.
"Let's give her a chance to get adjusted to it first, hmm?"
Charlie crouched down beside him to inspect your boot, making sure it wasn't too loose or too tight--a true father through and through.
"I still have all of my toes, right?"
"Yeah."
"And they're still cute?"
Charlie chortled. "Yes."
He rose from his spot and offered you his arm when he noticed you looked a little unsteady. You huffed out a laugh. "I never quite mastered these things."
"I'll see what I can do once we get home to make them more comfortable."
Henry's stomach let out a loud grumble. "Dad, can we get lunch? I'm hungry."
"Uh..." Charlie quickly glanced over to see if you felt up to it. "Sure. Yeah, we can."
--
Inside the little restaurant, Charlie made sure you were comfortable first before going up to order for the three of you. You opened your mouth to tell him what you wanted and he shook his head, smiling as he bent down to kiss you. "I know what you like." Henry opted to stay with you "so you wouldn't be lonely" and opened a game on Charlie's phone for you both to play.
After a few short albeit competitive rounds of tic-tac-toe, Charlie returned and divvied out everyone's order, putting his phone back in his pocket. Halfway through the meal, he pulled it back out again.
"Sorry, someone's really trying to get in touch with me." His brow knitted together as he stared down at the screen. He turned it around. "310...that's LA." He looked again. "Shit. Voicemail." He unlocked the phone and brought it up to his ear.
"Why shit?" Henry asked with his mouth half full. Charlie peered over at you the entire time he listened to the message. A moment later, his eyes grew wide, frustration taking hold of his features. He sighed, locking the screen before placing the device back in his pocket and running a hand through his hair.
"That was my landlord. The upstairs neighbor fell asleep in their tub."
"Oh god. 'Fell asleep'?"
"Just asleep. I think he'd have to disclose if it was forever."
"What does that mean?"
"Nothing."
"So they fell asleep..."
"Their whole apartment flooded and evidently the water also did a number on mine. They entered to assess the damage, which turned out to be more than they thought."
He exhaled again, his shoulders going tense.
You took a deep breath. Your mind was racing, Charlie's too no doubt, as you tried to figure out the best course of action.
"This was the last thing we needed right now."
"Hey. We'll do whatever we need to," you said, reaching over to take his hand. "I can look at VRBO if you want. Find us a place to stay for the time being unless you want to stay at a hotel."
He nodded, half smiling. You knew this wasn't how he wanted everything to go. There was so much on the horizon before you. Nicole's wedding and Henry's birthday to name a few.
Later, when you arrived home, Henry begged for you all to play another game together. Naturally, you were more than happy to oblige. Charlie, on the other hand, didn't dare deal cards for UNO until he knew you were situated on the sofa, as pain free as could be. Once seated, he helped you remove the boot, ignoring all protests and dashing away fears of any unseemly odors that either might have deemed foul. He propped your foot up on a stack of pillows; your comfort to him was paramount and he needed to be sure he was doing everything in his power to care for you.
His doting didn't stop there. After Charlie knew you were pleasantly positioned and somewhat relaxed, he continued catering to your every whim. Henry, being the best little helper as always, helped with dinner. No matter how much you insisted time and time again that his help wasn't necessary, that you were more than capable of doing things on your own and how you'd only suffered a fracture, Charlie still paid you no mind. He even helped keep you steady in the shower and carried you to the bedroom thereafter. Never in your life had you ever felt so loved.
Once Charlie made sure your elevated foot and the pillows on which it rested wouldn't get tangled in the sheets, he got into bed himself. He gingerly plucked his iPad from the nightstand and snuggled into you, kissing your shoulder. His fingers tapped on the screen, opening his email to pull up your collective flight information.
"We're going to have to move up our flight. I need to get there sooner rather than later to take photos for insurance purposes." He opened another email and turned the screen to show you. "Looks like he sent over a few he took himself, but if I want to file a claim I need more than this."
You leaned your head over on his shoulder. "I know none of this is ideal, but we'll get through this together." You turned slightly to look at him. "If you handle the flights, I'll handle the accommodations."
"I thought we could look together."
You huffed out a small laugh.
"I meant I'd handle it."
Your eyes met his, Charlie's stoic countenance nearly glaring back at you. "I can pay for it."
"Oh, I heard you the first time and you're being ridiculous."
"Are you going to let me pay for the flight change then?"
"No."
"You didn't let me pay for the initial flight either."
"Why would I?"
"Because we--we---because."
"We live together."
"But you don't have to pay for everything."
"I don't."
"But you know what I mean."
"We share finances, don't we?"
"We do, but not like we're married."
"That's not my fault."
"Charlie!" He shrugged. "That's not fair."
"Are we fighting?"
"What?"
"Are we fighting right now? Yes or no. Is this a fight?"
" No. Why would we be fighting?"
"Okay then. Did I not tell you a few months ago I wanted to marry you?"
"I--yes."
"Then let's not worry about money." He picked your hand up from on top of the comforter and brought it to his lips. "Wherever I go, I go with you."
He studied your face, his words clearly taking you aback. No matter how many times he professed his love for you, his dedication, all of it, there would never come a day when it would be too much. He leaned in, his lips coming to rest featherlight against your own before capturing them with greater intent and desire. Your fingers tangled in his hair and after a moment he pulled away to rest his forehead against yours, smiling.
"So, should we look at Airbnbs?"
After about an hour of debate, neither of you were any closer to picking a place to stay.
"Why is everything either small and expensive or affordable and way more house than we'd ever need?"
"The last one had a pool," you offered. "Could be fun for Henry."
"That's true. There is that."
"We could have fun too--carefully."
"When's the last time we were in a pool? 4th of July?"
"Mmhmm."
"Mmm...watching the fireworks at your parents' house."
"Getting into the hot tub after."
"Figuring out once we got upstairs that if we fucked from the other side of the bed it was completely silent."
You both giggled.
He went back to the last listing you looked at. "3 beds and 3 baths with all of that for $259 a night. What's the catch? We could stay at the Beverly Hilton for $20 more a night. They have a pool, too."
"Sometimes people price more affordably to entice people to stay longer. Besides, this has something the Hilton doesn't."
"Oh?"
"Separate rooms."
"Oh."
"Mmhmm."
"I like how you think."
Your hand crept surreptitiously under the sheets, landing on his upper thigh and causing Charlie to snicker.
"What are you up to?"
"Don't worry about it. Just keep showing me rental properties."
Never in all your days had JFK felt so packed. While the boot impacting your movement certainly didn't help, there were other contributing factors that made the barrage of people feel all the more suffocating. For starters, Henry spent the previous night sick in the bathroom which ultimately meant Charlie up and down with him. No sooner than you both thought he would sleep through the night, his tiny tummy had other plans and into the bathroom he'd go. Considering you'd all eaten the same thing, you and Charlie came to the unsettling conclusion that Henry had a stomach bug. The idea struck fear in you both. Not only did it mean the potential for airsickness on the plane, it also meant the two of you were at risk for falling to the same fate at any moment.
With fingers crossed and bags checked, you navigated security and the terminal. You wanted to walk, but Charlie wasn't having it and requested a wheelchair transport to your gate. Once you were settled, your doting Mr. Barber continued going above and beyond, checking in on Henry and you and discussing potential early boarding with the gate agent.
Henry was in his seat, leaning over on you, whining in pain. Poor thing. He peered up at you through tired eyes and dull pallor; you rubbed his arm in an attempt to comfort.
"I feel like I need to throw up."
"You feel like you need to throw up?"
"Yeah," he replied. You could tell he was feeling weak.
"Right now?"
"No. Maybe. Can you take me to go throw up?"
About that time, Charlie made his way back over to you both. "They're going to let us board early and she's checking to see if there are any other seats open where you might be more comfortable. Do either of you want or need anything?" Henry leaned over and clung to his father's waist; his face was slowly becoming green.
"You think you could eat a little something, honey? I can get you a ginger ale and some crackers." He ran a hand through Henry's hair.
"I need to go throw up," Henry said again. "Can you carry me to the bathroom please? I don't think I can walk."
"Yeah, come on, sweetheart." Charlie bent down to lift Henry from the chair attached to yours, hoisting him up his body. "You gonna be okay?"
You nodded, watching Henry adjust his head on Charlie's shoulder. "Yeah. Go."
No sooner than Charlie took a step, you heard it. The sound of dry heaving. Only this was no dry heave. No, this had follow-through. Henry had thrown up, the near projectile vomit trailing down the back of Charlie's button up and splattering onto the floor below.
You covered your mouth as you heard the gate agent call for custodial staff to assist with a biohazard spill.
"Dad, I'm sor--" More flowed out of him like lava.
--
Charlie and Henry walked back a short time later looking a little different than the way they left. From the looks of it, they had made a pit stop before coming back to the gate. Charlie and Henry both in new shirts touting their love of New York. Much to your surprise, Henry was holding french fries and a soda. Charlie was carrying a couple of drinks in one hand and a tied off shopping bag in the other. Once he made his way over to you, he plopped down next to you, mindful of your foot, and handed you a drink.
"Henry finally got an appetite so we stopped..."
You gestured to the plastic gift shop bag. "What's in there?"
"My button-up and undershirt. I'm debating tossing them. I picked up a Tide pen when we got the shirts and tried to clean them up the best I could. The only reason the shirt's not in the trash already is because it's my favorite."
A voice came over the loudspeaker. "Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. This is the pre-boarding announcement for Flight 7142 to Los Angeles..."
You could tell your man was already exhausted. Henry, on the other hand, seemed to have a new lease on life as he merrily munched on his fries. However, for all of your sakes, you hoped he had emptied himself out after upchucking on Charlie.
"That's us," he said, rising from his seat and motioning to Henry to get up. "Come on, honey. Time to go."
He reached for you as you moved to get up, ready to offer his assistance. You were grateful, too. As you stood, the slight curve of your boot caused you to rock on your feet. Your hands grabbed onto Charlie as you made yourself stable again.
"Easy, I've got you."
You smiled up at him. "Thank you."
"Can I bring my fries?" Henry asked, more than ready to put a fistful of fries into his mouth.
"Yes, you can bring your fries...and your drink."
Charlie tucked his bag of dirties under his arm, offering the other to you as he grinned. "Come on, Hopalong."
--
Early boarding proved to be less of a convenience than you expected. With Henry being ill, you and Charlie had both assumed he'd be fine with sitting in the middle, having the ability to lean and sleep on either of you respectively. However, when the time came, he wanted the window seat.
"I just want to be able to look out while we fly. Please Dad. I hate sitting in the middle."
You could tell Charlie was doing his best to be patient, his weary eyes begging you to help him find some solution. In any other situation, neither of you would have had a problem with it. When you had flown together in the past, thanks to his flight trick, the middle seat had never been an issue. Now, with your foot all banged up, he was going to have to get creative. Normally, Charlie would take the aisle so he could get up and walk easily to stretch his legs, but that wouldn't be the case today.
"Okay. Here's what we're going to do." Charlie took a deep breath, exhaled slowly to relieve the tension, and shoved the bag he was carrying and messenger bag under one of the seats; he stepped briefly into the row in front of yours to let someone by. "Henry, you can have the window seat, but only on the condition that you take dramamine before we take off." He glanced over at you. "I'm going to sit in the middle. You can take the aisle seat so you can have a little more room for your foot."
"What about--"
"Nope." He said, shaking his head. "This is what works and, more importantly, this makes sure you're both comfortable."
You stepped into the aisle so he could move back into your row, taking his seat before you followed suit, shoving your own bag underneath your seat and buckling in.
--
It was safe to say landing in LA didn't come a moment too soon. While none of you stood or clapped when the plane landed (nor would you ever), you could tell by the look on Charlie's countenance that he was more than ready to go. The trip to baggage claim was uneventful. For once, your luggage was easy to find and the line for the car rental had no wait. Even the ride to your airbnb has been quiet, albeit the silence was contributed to in part by Henry's looking out the window and Charlie trying to navigate where he was going.
The moment you pulled into the driveway, you could have sworn it was the wrong place. The address must have been some kind of mistake, but no—you were at the right house. It was absolutely, without a doubt, more than either of you could have ever expected.
Charlie got out of the car and closed his door. "Sweetheart." He was overwhelmed. "This is incredible."
Henry was right behind him, moving quickly to unbuckle and coming to stand by Charlie. "Do we live here now?"
His sunny demeanor every time the three of you arrived at a home together never failed to warm your heart, but the joy was accompanied by a touch of sadness. You wondered if his asking was in part of his being hopeful of having a house with Charlie the same way he did with Nicole.
"Just for a little while, until the apartment is fixed up again."
You walked around the front of the car to join him, his arm coming to wrap around your waist and pulling you into his side.
"Way better than the Hilton, right?"
Once you made it inside, Charlie insisted on you and Henry staying put in the kitchen while he checked out the house, ensuring no surprises or unwanted guests were hiding throughout. Henry made himself comfortable on a bar stool, swinging his legs as they dangled below. A few minutes later, Charlie returned. He stood there in the kitchen with his hands on his hips, satisfied.
"Okay. Everything looks good. Henry, do you want to go pick your room?" That was all Henry needed to hear before he took off running to claim a small part of the house as his own. There was no doubt he was in better spirits than when he started the day. The warm smile spreading across Charlie's face let you know he was more than excited to play house with you.
"We're really here for 2 weeks?"
"Two whole weeks."
He pressed his lips to yours and sighed.
"May they go more smoothly than the beginning of our trip." You stepped into his body, embracing him, and like magic it was as if all of the tension from Charlie's body dissipated. He nuzzled into your neck, allowing his head to come to rest on your shoulder as you planted tender kisses against his hair. "They will, baby. I know there's going to be a lot going on, but everything will be okay."
After a moment he raised up, giving you a tired smile. "I'm going to bring in the luggage and then take a shower." He huffed out a laugh. "Probably wouldn't hurt if you wanted to join me."
You walked with him toward the front of the home, arm in arm. "Let me help you into the bedroom."
"I can manage, honey."
"I know," he said, reserved. "I worry about you. If I'm being overbearing--"
"--you're not. I promise," you interjected, hoping to assuage his fears. "I just don't want you feeling obligated to take care of me."
He knitted his brow, looking at you like the words that left your mouth were the most absurd he'd ever had the pleasure of hearing.
"Obligated? Obligated. I want to take care of you. Always."
--
By some miracle, Henry had decided to take a nap and while he slept Charlie was rather adamant that you get some rest too despite his weary eyes and 5 o'clock shadow suggesting he'd benefit from it more than you. While you stayed behind, Charlie planned to venture to his apartment to snap photos for his renter's insurance. It wasn't until you got the text, however, that you realized he had more errands he planned to tackle.
Charlie: Do you want anything special from Trader Joe's?
You frowned as you read his message. You could picture him with a cart full of items.
You: Just you.
He responded instantly.
Charlie: They're fresh out of Charlies. Want me to ask if they can check in back? ;)
Charlie: I'm not picking up much. I just wanted to have things on hand in case Henry gets sick again or if one of us happens to fall ill. Although, fingers crossed for no more of that from any of us.
Charlie: No wine? Ice cream? Anything?
Charlie: I'm picking up things we can nosh on. Crudites, fruit, things like that. I thought about making shrimp cocktail if you're interested.
Charlie: Would my love like coffee for the morning? ❤️
You worked quickly to type up a reply.
You: I love you so much. What happened to not picking up much?
*DING*
Charlie: Still not getting much, but I couldn't forget the coffee. ;)
Charlie: And I love you too.
You placed your phone on the kitchen table and stared out at the pool. Even though your toes were longing for a dip, you knew better than to venture out on your own. With your foot in its present condition, you were worried you wouldn't be able get up by yourself and with Henry asleep, it was best to stay indoors anyway.
Half an hour later, the front door swung open and in walked Charlie with groceries in tow. "Sweetheart? I'm back."
You hopped into the entryway to meet him and Charlie stopped down to give you a kiss. "Can I help?"
He smiled, moving out of the way. "Can you lock the car for me and maybe get the door?"
"Sure, honey"
Charlie shifted, popping his hip toward you. "Keys are in my pocket."
You reached in, smirking, your hands feeling around for the keys to the rental and coming up empty. "Just your wallet in this one."
"They're probably in my other pocket." You moved around, putting your hand inside the opposite pocket of his slacks. Your lips quirked into a grin as your fingers closed around something that would've started a very different kind of engine.
"Hey," he giggled. "As much as I enjoy that, these bags are heavy." You chortled, rolling your eyes and securing the keys. You removed the small fob from his pocket, hitting the button twice to lock the car, and closed the door. Charlie walked into the kitchen and you followed behind, wanting to make yourself useful.
As he unloaded groceries, he noticed you were still in your boot. "That foot needs to breathe. Unless we're going out, take it off, honey."
"I will. I just haven't gotten around to it yet."
You passed Charlie a carton of juice and a few containers of fruit to put in the fridge.
"Nicole called while I was out."
He was focused on unpacking various items from the brown paper bags and setting them on the counter.
"Oh?"
"She was calling to see where we were since she's picking him up later this week." He opened the cabinet, searching for a serving tray, and was pleased when he found one. You did what you could to help out, putting away a few items while he washed the tray along with a few vegetables.
"She invited us to dinner, but I said no. I hope you don't mind," he said, sighing and wiping his hand on a paper towel. "I just thought we'll be seeing them later. It doesn't hurt to have some time to ourselves." He checked cabinet after cabinet for a cutting board, ultimately finding one in a drawer in the kitchen island. "Was that okay?"
You half smiled, carefully taking a seat at the bar. "Of course it is."
Charlie looked around for the knife block, somehow missing that it was right in front of him. You gingerly pushed it in his direction and he reached over to caress your hand in thanks. You watched on as he turned full heirloom carrots expertly into sticks, doing the same with celery and jicama respectively.
You were hesitant to bring up the next topic. In the days leading up to your trip, you noticed Charlie wanting to be closer to you. Holding you a little longer, a little tighter, like he was afraid you'd go away. Like he needed to make sure you were real. The man agreed to watch a woman he loved to whatever varying degree for 10 years marry another man for the sake of his son. You could only begin to imagine what kind of emotional turmoil that might have been brewing on the inside. On the outside, however, he was silent, cool and collected, but you knew beneath the surface there was more. You knew the idea in your own mind had made you feel uneasy more than once, but you were a partnership. He was yours and you were his. There was no way you'd let him go into the lion's den alone.
"Charlie?"
"Yes, my love?"
You lifted up, whimpering as you realized you'd inadvertently put pressure on your foot to pluck a vegetable from the cutting board.
"How are you feeling?"
"About?"
He washed his hands again and opened the fridge, retrieving a package of peppered turkey breast.
"The wedding. Going. Seeing Nicole get married again. All of it."
Charlie was pensive as he opened the plastic, taking out a piece of turkey and rolling it up. "What about it?" He asked, taking a bite.
You weren't sure if he was intentionally being closed off or completely out of touch with what you were asking.
"Are you okay?"
"Why wouldn't I be?"
Later that evening, you were all gathered in the kitchen contemplating dinner. Charlie had settled on spaghetti and was halfway through making bolognese when there was a knock at the door. He set the wooden spoon he was using down on the utensil rest and wiped his hands on the small kitchen towel hanging from his shoulder.
"Who--are we expecting company?" You briefly glanced over at Henry who was still cutting cherry tomatoes in half before you peered back over to Charlie and shook your head. He motioned for you to stay where you were and went to get the door.
You heard the front door open. "Surprise!"
Nicole.
--
They all walked into the kitchen. Carter was carrying multiple pizzas, Nicole toting a bag from BevMo, and Charlie looking a little annoyed that the two of them showed up unannounced.
"We were actually in the middle of dinner," He said, walking over to shut off the burner below the bolognese. Meanwhile, they were both making themselves at home. Nicole strutted past you, touching your shoulder and smiling as she made her way over to Henry who she fully embraced.
"That'll keep til tomorrow, right? We got Henry's favorite--cheese pizza."
"Can we have pizza, Dad?"
"Henry, don't you want the spaghetti? Your dad's been working really hard on it." No sooner than the words left your mouth, you could see the surprise spreading over Nicole and Charlie's faces. Like it or not, you were in the middle. What's more, you had shown up to this battle unarmed. Carter, however, was rooting around for a corkscrew, more than happy to stay out of it.
"I haven't seen him in weeks and he's here now so I wanted to make it special," Nicole said, trying to wipe the flabbergasted look from her countenance. She was staring you down, almost as if she were daring you to challenge her again, Mama Bear.
"I did politely say no to dinner when you asked," Charlie said, wanting to show solidarity. Nicole kissed the top of Henry's head and played with his hair. "I know, but I assumed that was only because you didn't want to get out."
"I said no because we've had a very exhausting couple of days. Henry's been sick and--"
"Henry's been sick?"
"Yeah."
"For how long?"
"He had a 24 hour bug; he's better now."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"You were in Canada."
"I've been in LA for three days."
"How would I know that?"
She let out an irritated sigh. "You can't not tell me when he's sick."
"If he's under my care and you're not around, why would I tell you? None of this even matters, he's better now."
"What made him sick in the first place?"
"I told you. A stomach bug. He ate. He got sick. It happens."
You could feel the tension in the room rising. Nicole had moved away from Henry to stand closer to Charlie. Her hands were on her hips, her body language suggesting she was more than prepared to get in his face.
"I think you two should take this into the other room," you offered, matter of fact. Nicole stared daggers in your direction incredulously. Charlie was looking at you, too, only with kinder eyes.
"She's right. Let's talk outside."
--
By the time they made it back inside, Carter and Henry both had started digging into the pizza. You put the bolognese away once it cooled and wrapped up the salad to be enjoyed another day.
Nicole walked over to Carter, leaning on him before stealing a bite of his pizza and kissing the top of Henry's head. "Did you have enough to eat honey?"
Henry opened the pizza box and put another slice on his plate.
"This is my third piece," he said, proudly.
"Your third piece?"
"It's really good pizza."
"I know. I got it from your favorite place. Mommy knows what you like."
Charlie stood there emotionless, running a hand through his hair. You mouthed, "you okay?" and he shrugged in response. You worried your lip wondering if your earlier outburst had crossed the line.
Nicole crouched down so she'd be at eye level with him and smiled, whispering. "Well, when you're finished, we can go get your bag and Mommy can take you for ice cream. Would you like that?"
Henry beamed and nodded.
"Henry, you aren't staying here tonight?" Charlie asked; he put his hands on his hips as his brow knitted together. "I thought we were going to have pancakes in the morning. I bought chocolate chips."
"Carter said we could go to Goofy's Kitchen," Henry said, taking another bite of pizza.
"Did he?"
"Yeah."
Nicole huffed, obviously flustered and trying to play it off. "Babe...we talked about this."
Charlie shifted his weight. "And when was this?"
Carter wiped his mouth and turned in his seat. "Sorry, I might have let that slip."
Nicole faced Charlie, crossing her arms. "We were going to take Henry to Disneyland as a surprise. I made reservations."
"Reservations can be canceled."
"You're serious?"
"It's my night."
"It's been your night for a few weeks. Can't you give me this?"
"I don't remember any leniency when I needed to go to New York and it was my weekend or when I had a finite amount of time to do things and the cousins had other plans."
"Do you realize how unreasonable you're being? Charlie, it's my fucking wedding week."
"Congratulations, it's still my night."
"Why don't we let Henry decide?"
"Don't do this."
"Henry, do you want to go with Mommy or stay with Daddy tonight?" She bent down and whispered. "Remember, we can get ice cream after we leave."
"If you're going to bribe him, what's the point in giving him a choice?"
Henry sat quietly. It was clear he didn't want to disappoint either of them. "Dad?"
"Yes, honey?"
Henry laid his half eaten slice of pizza down on his plate. "Will you be mad at me if I go?"
Charlie softened. "No, sweetheart, of course not."
"Will you be mad at Mommy?"
You watched as Charlie swallowed, taking a deep breath to calm himself. It went without saying he was hurt. "No, I won't be mad at Mommy either."
"Then I want to go with Mommy tonight, but I can come back tomorrow after Disneyland, can't I?"
Henry turned to Nicole. For someone so young, it astounded you that he'd already learned to play the game. It broke your heart seeing him trying to please both of them.
"Sure, we can bring you by or Daddy can pick you up. No problem."
Charlie's arm made its way around your waist as you waved goodbye to the Subaru pulling out of the driveway. It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fucking fair. You felt him take a deep breath and turned just in time to see his eyes turn watery. He audibly inhaled, completely resigned as his stare met yours.
"Let's go inside."
--
A/N: Part 2 is up now!
❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️