the waiter for some rolls.
The rolls arrived but one glance told him Ella wouldn’t eat them. They had seeds.
Her whining amplified. He stopped another server.
“Dude, got any plain rolls, bread …
anything
plain?”
“Something wrong with the rolls?” He picked up the basket and examined them.
Ella’s tears began and with them came the attention of most of the restaurant patrons.
He glanced up and caught glares from the well-coiffed older couple at the next table.
He scanned the room. No other kids. He was
that
guy now. The guy who tainted fine dining ambiance with a whiny kid.
He opened a sugar packet and leaned across the table to pour it in to Ella’s mouth.
Her tears dried up. Ah, the magic of sugar. He’d poured eight sugar packets into her
mouth by the time their food arrived. He pretended not to notice the withering looks
from the people sitting around him as the mountain of empty sugar packets grew in
front of him.
He was halfway through his meal when he noticed Ella pushing food around on her plate.
“I don’t like it.” Her eyes drooped a bit at the corners and he glanced at his watch.
Approaching nine. He set to finishing his meal, accompanied by the increased fretting
of his dinner companion. To quiet her down, he ordered a soda.
She sucked it down in a minute flat, giggled and belched, then groaned and gripped
her stomach. Belched again.
Fork halfway to his lips, he watched her mouth form a perfect O of surprise as a fountain
of Coke, sugar and bile spewed onto her shirt, plate and tablecloth.
Dropping his utensil, he moved to her side. She was sobbing uncontrollably. Jesus.
What a mess. He reached in his back pocket; pulled a few hundreds out of his money
clip to drop on the table; gathered the tiny, sticky, smelly, figure into his arms
and headed for the restaurant door.
Once home, he stripped off her clothes and put her in a warm bath. By the time she
was out and dressed in her pajamas, it was after ten and she could barely keep her
eyes open.
“Uncle Asher, stay with me,” she insisted sleepily, eyes listless with fatigue.
He stripped off his shirt, toed off his shoes and laid on top of the covers next to
her, listening to her suck her thumb, blanket in hand as she faded off into sleep.
He was aware of her warm body, snuggled in close, the strawberry scented shampoo,
the intermittent sucking noises. He closed his eyes, drowsy in the dark room, and
smiled. Ella brought out every protective instinct he had ever experienced and turned
it up to eleven. He thought he loved his sister’s child before, but that was nothing
compared to how much he loved her now. Not a day went by that he didn’t mourn the
loss of Dee, but lately, being with Ella erased some of the grief and brought solace.
He hadn’t realized how much one person could care for another until Ella came to stay.
• • •
Maddy arrived back at the house after midnight. Her friends had met her at a restaurant
near campus before heading out to a local bar to play darts and chat. She wasn’t forthcoming
about her new job — she’d confessed to quitting the coffee shop and taking a nanny
gig but gave no details. Her friends were trustworthy, but she didn’t want to spend
the evening answering questions about Asher Lowe.
Maddy crept up the stairs, finding her way in the darkness to Ella’s room. She pushed
the door open silently, her gaze taking in the sight on the bed: Ella curled up into
Asher’s shirtless, jean clad body, burrowed into his warmth. She moved into the room,
wrinkling her nose at the faint sour smell. Was that vomit?
Moving to the side of the bed, she stared down at Asher then bent over, sniffing him.
She pulled back slightly, her gaze traveling up his heavily muscled chest with its
light furring of brown hair, up the column of his neck, lingering on his strong jaw
line and perfectly shaped lips, examining those enviable cheekbones
The rolls arrived but one glance told him Ella wouldn’t eat them. They had seeds.
Her whining amplified. He stopped another server.
“Dude, got any plain rolls, bread …
anything
plain?”
“Something wrong with the rolls?” He picked up the basket and examined them.
Ella’s tears began and with them came the attention of most of the restaurant patrons.
He glanced up and caught glares from the well-coiffed older couple at the next table.
He scanned the room. No other kids. He was
that
guy now. The guy who tainted fine dining ambiance with a whiny kid.
He opened a sugar packet and leaned across the table to pour it in to Ella’s mouth.
Her tears dried up. Ah, the magic of sugar. He’d poured eight sugar packets into her
mouth by the time their food arrived. He pretended not to notice the withering looks
from the people sitting around him as the mountain of empty sugar packets grew in
front of him.
He was halfway through his meal when he noticed Ella pushing food around on her plate.
“I don’t like it.” Her eyes drooped a bit at the corners and he glanced at his watch.
Approaching nine. He set to finishing his meal, accompanied by the increased fretting
of his dinner companion. To quiet her down, he ordered a soda.
She sucked it down in a minute flat, giggled and belched, then groaned and gripped
her stomach. Belched again.
Fork halfway to his lips, he watched her mouth form a perfect O of surprise as a fountain
of Coke, sugar and bile spewed onto her shirt, plate and tablecloth.
Dropping his utensil, he moved to her side. She was sobbing uncontrollably. Jesus.
What a mess. He reached in his back pocket; pulled a few hundreds out of his money
clip to drop on the table; gathered the tiny, sticky, smelly, figure into his arms
and headed for the restaurant door.
Once home, he stripped off her clothes and put her in a warm bath. By the time she
was out and dressed in her pajamas, it was after ten and she could barely keep her
eyes open.
“Uncle Asher, stay with me,” she insisted sleepily, eyes listless with fatigue.
He stripped off his shirt, toed off his shoes and laid on top of the covers next to
her, listening to her suck her thumb, blanket in hand as she faded off into sleep.
He was aware of her warm body, snuggled in close, the strawberry scented shampoo,
the intermittent sucking noises. He closed his eyes, drowsy in the dark room, and
smiled. Ella brought out every protective instinct he had ever experienced and turned
it up to eleven. He thought he loved his sister’s child before, but that was nothing
compared to how much he loved her now. Not a day went by that he didn’t mourn the
loss of Dee, but lately, being with Ella erased some of the grief and brought solace.
He hadn’t realized how much one person could care for another until Ella came to stay.
• • •
Maddy arrived back at the house after midnight. Her friends had met her at a restaurant
near campus before heading out to a local bar to play darts and chat. She wasn’t forthcoming
about her new job — she’d confessed to quitting the coffee shop and taking a nanny
gig but gave no details. Her friends were trustworthy, but she didn’t want to spend
the evening answering questions about Asher Lowe.
Maddy crept up the stairs, finding her way in the darkness to Ella’s room. She pushed
the door open silently, her gaze taking in the sight on the bed: Ella curled up into
Asher’s shirtless, jean clad body, burrowed into his warmth. She moved into the room,
wrinkling her nose at the faint sour smell. Was that vomit?
Moving to the side of the bed, she stared down at Asher then bent over, sniffing him.
She pulled back slightly, her gaze traveling up his heavily muscled chest with its
light furring of brown hair, up the column of his neck, lingering on his strong jaw
line and perfectly shaped lips, examining those enviable cheekbones
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