She tumbled out of bed and ran to her room, returning a minute later.
“Are Mommy and Rocco up?”
“Dunno.” Because it’s all about me. Well, he knew where his daughter got that single-mindedness.
“I want to schedule more dates, I do,” Kayla had said, driving home last night. “But let’s get through Christmas first. Our baby’s cold has put me way behind. We’ll have both our families here for the holidays and I haven’t organized beds, planned food, bought presents or bought a tree. Not to mention the house has to be decluttered and ready for sale by the New Year and my brother wants a bed next week. Squeezing in date nights would only add more pressure.”
He’d tamped down his impatience. “Okay, we’ll steal time for ourselves after Christmas.”
Now Maddie clambered over him, and he caught her foot before it did damage. “No more sneaking into our bed, Maddie girl. You can climb in for morning cuddles, but not in the night.”
“But what if I’m scared, Daddy?”
“Then I’ll sit with you for five minutes.”
“What if I’m sick?”
“Then, yeah, I’ll consider it.”
She traced the tattoo on his shoulder with her small finger. “That’s my name M for Madison, R is for Rocco, and K is for Mommy’s name, an’ the heart is for love always, isn’t it, Daddy?”
“Always.” I will do anything to fix this.
Meatloaf starting singing in Jared’s head about doing anything for love. When he got to the line about what he wouldn’t do, Jared yanked the lead out of the big man’s microphone.
He couldn’t make Kayla happy if he wasn’t hap—“Oww.”
The corner of the calendar jabbed in his lap and he welcomed the distraction, painful as it was. The calendar was decorated with tinsel and stars, and the Easter bunny, because he was Santa’s friend.
Brows fierce in concentration, Maddie counted. “One, two, free, four, five, six… eleventy—”
“Eleven.” He helped her count down the rest, and she beamed at him.
“Nineteen sleeps, Daddy. And I thought of something else for my present list.”
“I bet you did.”
“We got lots of money you said.”
And wasn’t that the dumbest thing he’d ever celebrated.
All of them would have to be financially conservative until the band’s future became clearer. Which was why he and Kayla were downsizing.
“We’ve got enough money for some presents,” he reminded her. “If you want to add something new to your list, you’ll have to take one off.”
“Can I think of a present for Rocco?”
“Sure.” He smoothed down her pillow hair. “It’s real nice you’re caring about your baby brother.”
“He wants a Barbie doll with purple hair,” she said, all innocence.
He started to laugh.
“Boys can like Barbie dolls, too. Mommy said boys and girls can like each other’s toys.”
“Yeah, but Rocco is a baby and he chews everything. You want your doll’s head chewed off?”
As he waited to see what his daughter would come up with, he could almost see the cunning chasing around behind her round brown eyes.
“I’ll look after her till he’s bigger!” she said, triumphant.
“Madison, you need to give Rocco what he likes now and not just what you like.” Same as Daddy is trying to do with Mommy.
“He likes the vacuum plug.”
“Okay, we’ll work on it.” He got out of bed in the boxers he wore now his daughter was noticing the difference between boys and girls.
“Reindeers,” she said happily. They’d been a joke present from Kayla last Christmas, and Maddie loved them. He fully expected to find more pairs in his stocking this year.
He helped Maddie dress and brushed the tangles out of her hair before braiding it the way she liked. His fingers had gotten clumsy with ribbons and hairpins, a reminder of how often he’d been away this year. He used to be good at this. He used to be good at loving his wife, too.
When the final bow was tied, he picked Maddie up and tickled her, needing his daughter’s deep belly laugh. “C’mon, let’s get you breakfast.”
“Pancakes.”
“Muesli.”
“Because it helps you poop,” she said helpfully.
He couldn’t rewoo his wife until after Christmas, but he could certainly prove himself a better husband than the loser she’d married. It just took practice.
*
Kayla stood under the shower in the main bathroom, rinsing porridge out of her baby’s fine hair. Though he was nearly one, Rocco still didn’t have a lot of it, but the kid could sure conjure tangles.
He wiggled to get away, his small body slippery. Tightening her grip, she sluiced the last clump of oatmeal down the drain. He looked at her crossly, water beading on his round cheeks and eyelashes, long and dark like his daddy’s, and she felt her heart clench in love, almost painful in its intensity.