Page 3 of Habibi: Always and Forever
WE’LL GET BY WITH A LITTLE HELP FROM OUR FRIENDS
COLBY
“D addy.”
The whisper right next to my ear had me jerking awake with a grunt. Elsie Mae’s sweet little face was only centimeters from me when I opened my eyes, and I wondered if a heart could actually stop beating when you were scared awake in the dark of night.
“Daddy,” my daughter repeated.
I propped up on my elbow, forever grateful my husband, Kai, and I always made sure to keep a sheet on the bed for quick cover ups after we’d gotten hot and sweaty.
And we had definitely gotten hot and sweaty.
Honestly, I kept waiting for the newlywed sparkle and shine to wear off, but Kai and I kept it steamy in the bedroom.
It had only been a couple hours since we’d collapsed from fabulous orgasms, but luckily our rule to always pull the sheet up was one we held in high regard.
Exactly for times like this.
“What’s up, Els?” I asked, aware of Kai shifting behind me. Based on the warm, bare skin of his chest and belly against the equally warm and bare skin of my back and ass, I decided we maybe needed to add put on underwear to our list of rules at least while we had a child in the house.
Having a five-year-old— how the hell did we have a five-year-old?
—meant we were kept on our toes at all times.
Between her two daddies, four uncles, and a slew of grandparents, Elsie Mae was well taken care of, doted on, and indulged, but she was also challenged, taught responsibility and compassion, and provided with age-appropriate guidelines.
One of which was a scheduled bedtime routine which usually led to her going to bed easily and staying in bed until morning.
“It’s the first day of school!” Elsie said with a happy squeal.
Like I said, usually .
I glanced at the digital clock on the bedside table.
1:17 a.m.
Fuck.
“Not yet, Els.”
“Yes.” Her little head bobbed in the dimly lit room “The numbers went past twelve and the morning dot is on. It’s Thursday, and that’s the first day of school.”
Kai chuckled softly into my neck. Pressing a kiss to my shoulder before he pushed up to look over me, my husband spoke softly to our little girl. “We have to wait until the sun comes up and the birds start singing, hon.”
Never short-tempered, never impatient, always so good for Elsie and me, Kai was the miracle who kept my life on-track all those years ago, and he was still my heart and the very cornerstone of my foundation.
Elsie huffed. “But why ? It’s morning , the dot says so.”
“You’re right,” Kai went on. “But school doesn’t open until the sun comes up.”
We’d likely regret that little tidbit in the dead of winter when the sun rose much later, but that was a problem for future Colby and Kai to deal with.
Our daughter, whose shortened night of sleep and anticipation of her first day of Kindergarten were quickly catching up with her, made a tiny whiney noise. “But now I can’t sleep.” She moved as if to join us in bed, and Kai shoved something into my hands.
“How ‘bout we get you a nice warm sleepy bath and some milk?” My husband somehow managed to squirm into his shorts as quickly and innocently as if he were slipping on his socks.
Before Elsie could climb into our bed—something she loved to do, but something we kept to a minimum because we all three slept like shit when she was tossing, turning, and kicking all night—Kai was up and around the bed, taking Elsie’s hand.
“Daddy will get the milk ready, and we’ll start the bath. ”
“A sleepy bath?” Elsie asked.
“Yep.” He pulled the door as he exited, leaving only a small crack, but I heard Elsie’s sleepy thank you, Dada as they entered the hallway.
I yanked on the pants Kai had shoved my way and rolled from bed. Looked like we’d all need some sleepy time milk by the time this night was done.
* * *
KAI
Over the years, Colby and I had figured out the secret to getting Elsie back to bed with the least amount of fuss was a familiar routine. We kept the lights dimmed, lit a lavender candle, gave her a warm bath with lavender-scented salts, and rocked her while she drank her sleepy time milk.
With Colby busy in the kitchen getting the milk ready—a mixture we’d created and perfected since becoming fathers—I turned on the bath water, lit the candle, and kept my words gentle while Elsie used the bathroom and climbed into the fragrant tub.
No toys, no hair washing, just time to rest in the warm, lavender-scented water.
The milk would take about fifteen minutes.
As a baby, a warm bottle and lavender scented lotion paired with a gentle rocking was enough to send Elsie back to the Land of Nod.
These days, after clearing it with her pediatrician, we’d concocted a recipe of unsweetened vanilla oat milk steamed with lavender infused honey.
Did the mixture truly have sleep inducing properties?
Likely not, and it wasn’t like we were looking to knock our kid out, but the calming routine still proved to be just what Elsie needed on those rare occasions when sleep eluded her.
And hopefully when she was greatly anticipating the first day of school.
About the time I was drying her off and helping her get back into her favorite pajamas—decorated with the face of Magic, the black lab who lived next door with our best friends Emory and Ivy—Colby arrived at the doorway with a sippy cup.
“Ready for sleepy time?” he asked softly. There had never been a better daddy, and our little girl was the luckiest. The fact that I got to spend every day of the rest of my life loving my best friend and our daughter proved I had a pretty damn impressive lucky streak too.
Elsie rubbed at her eyes and lifted her arms up to Colby. He lifted her gently and leaned close to me. “Tell Dadda good night.” Elsie whispered good night and fluttered a kiss to my cheek before Colby brushed his lips over mine. “Love you.”
Memories of nighttime feedings and diaper changes in Elsie’s early days were something we held dear even while shuddering over how sleep-deprived we were.
Five years out, being awakened at one o’clock in the morning wasn’t my idea of fun, but our simple, easy life was full of love, and I couldn’t even be mad when the interruption meant we got to build well-adjusted routines and solid core memories for Elsie and ourselves.
There’d be time to sleep when we were old and gray and missing our baby.
* * *
COLBY
“Oh god,” Emory groaned. “Are those donuts?” He giggled as Ivy caught his arm and kept him from attacking the box Emory’s brother, Trevor, held.
“They’re for the daddies,” Trevor’s husband, Blake, said. “Figured they could stand some sugar if they were eating their feelings this morning.”
Emory pouted for a moment until his eyes landed on Elsie Mae as she pretended to walk a tight rope on the middle of the sidewalk in adorable denim overall shorts, a blue shirt, yellow socks, a yellow hairbow, and her favorite white sandals.
Emory put his hand to his heart. “Yeah, well, she might not have sprung forth from my loins, but she’s my little girl too.”
Ivy snorted, but it sounded suspiciously close to a sob.
All six of us watched an oblivious Elsie, and I had no doubt each of the guys were feeling just as much emotion as I was on my daughter’s first day of school.
Emory, Ivy, Trevor, and Blake had all been a part of our lives since Kai dragged my ass back to Peppermint Hollow.
They’d pretty much spent at least a bit of every day with Elsie during her entire five years of life.
Trevor and Blake had married nearly four years ago.
Emory and Ivy balked at a traditional marriage, but they were as devoted to their relationship and each other as any two people I’d ever met. Even without the reality TV game show they ended up on together, I had no doubt their souls would have eventually found their way to each other.
Kai, Elsie, and I were so very blessed to have found our village—made up of blood family and found family—to journey through life with.
With donuts and cups of coffee passed around, the six of us fell into our usual chatter while we watched Elsie giggle and hug Magic—in his usual position right next to her in case he needed to switch from best friend to protector mode—before she squatted to inspect an insect.
When she stood up with the ladybug on her finger, she squealed in delight until it took flight.
Magic sniffed the air as if trying to catch the bug, but he must have caught a whiff of donuts because he moved to sit next to Emory. The dog had mastered the puppy dog eyes, and Em was never able to say no.
“Why can’t Magic and CoJack go to school with me?” Elsie asked for about the fiftieth time, her little hands on her hips.
“Because dogs and bunnies only go to school when it’s for their job,” Kai reminded her.
Elsie scrunched up her nose and crossed her arms, gearing up for an argument for sure, but Blake raised his arm in a wave at three people walking down the sidewalk.
Elsie screeched and barreled toward her best friend—well, her best friend who wasn’t a grown man—Ivy—or a dog. Zechariah was only slightly older than Elsie, and the two had been thick as thieves ever since his family moved in behind us.
Pictures and giggles kept us busy for several minutes. Our parents had scheduled a cruise—and then been distraught to find out Elsie was starting school a week earlier than they assumed—and we had strict instructions to take a billion pictures so they could see her first day.
All too soon, the big yellow school bus pulled up to the corner. Elsie gave Kai and me hugs and kisses, patted Magic on the head, took Zechariah’s hand, and pulled him to the bus.
I clicked about a million photos on my phone as the kids made their way up steps that seemed about five feet high. Didn’t bus makers realize little legs would be climbing up there?
The bus door squeaked closed and a moment later it grumbled to life as it slowly chugged away from the curb.