Page 12 of Staying for You

“Shit.” I startle at the clarity in Brody’s voice. I look down at the little trouble maker and he grins. Most of his words, and there are only a few, come out mumbled and garbled. But of course,shit?That comes out clear as a bell.

“Don’t say that, okay, buddy? I mean, I’m super proud of how articulate you are right now but…”

He interrupts me when he says, “Shit.”

“All right, all right, I get it.”

“Shit!”

I give him a look that goes ignored. Except for the grin he shoots my way. It’s so adorable it almost makes me forget the fact that I have his feces on my face. Almost. “Now you’re just showing off.”

He points to my face, giggles.

“Yeah. I know. I have your poop on my face. It’s my favorite memory of you so far.”

His response is to slap himself right above his wee-wee, which Olivia and Ethan call his penis because they’re twelve. “Whoa. Whoa. Watch where you’re slapping, dude. First, that could hurt. Second, you want to end up like me?” I point to the forehead poop and he giggles saying, “O!”

Meanwhile in the corner, Issy is getting more and more pissed at being ignored.

We’re a mess. Literally. Everyone is falling apart.

“I’m coming, sweet thing. Just hang tight while I clean up Brody and myself, okay?” I tell her. She quiets down immediately and sighs, as if she’s suddenly perfectly content. I look over my shoulder to see her and jump at the sight of someone new in my guest bedroom.

“Wha… what are you doing here?” I ask Cami, aware of the fact that I have a forehead smeared with poop.

Cami looks sheepish as she soothes Issy, rubbing a hand up and down her back while Issy rests her head on Cami’s shoulder. “From what I heard on the monitor, it sounded like both the kids were waking up at the same time and I felt bad for monopolizing your time so I figured I’d come up and offer my help. I knocked and I heard you say you were coming and thought you were talking to me.” She looks a little embarrassed about just walking into my house but I’m grateful she’s here, helping out.

“You’re always coming to rescue me with these two. Don’t tell their parents. I’ve managed to pull the wool over their eyes and make them believe that I’m way more capable than I really am.”

She laughs quietly, head tipped down toward Issy. I notice everything she does is that way — quiet. I have to strain to hear her voice, even walking in here just now, I didn’t hear a single sound. Subtle is an understatement. Not necessarily timid or shy, but maybe isn’t used to allowing her voice to be heard. Nervous that she’s a burden… absolutely. Considering that I’m not around people one-on-one very often, my family is surprised at how perceptive I am. However, I’ve always been good at reading people.

When she raises her head, I realize that I’ve been staring at her since I first noticed she was here. I jerk my attention back to Brody, the little poop machine, and make sure he’s settled before setting him on the floor. I’ve been using an old dresser as a changing table, of sorts. Olivia brought up a long pad that fits the surface and had me clean out the top drawer for when I was watching the kids. I keep all their diapers and supplies in it and as much as I hate to admit it, my sister was right. The changing table, or at least that’s what my sister said it was called, is a big help.

“Uh, I don’t suppose you’d mind watching these two while I…” I point to my forehead and wince. I can handle a lot of things but having my nephew’s poop on me is something I’d rather not have a repeat performance of.

“Get the poop off your face?”

“Yes.” I chuckle.

“Go ahead. I think I can handle it.”

“Thanks,” I tell her, brushing past her and making my way into my bathroom.

I quickly wash my hands first then wince again when I catch side of the damage on my face. Gross. I use some toilet paper to clean myself up then scrub my face with enough soap to scrub down an entire football team. Once I’m sure I’m cleaned up, I head back into the guest bedroom.

“Is this what you sing?” I hear Cami say to the kids. She’s sitting on the floor, Issy on one leg and Brody on the other. They’re facing each other and giggling when Cami starts bouncing them up and down. “The wheels on the bus…” she starts singing. The kids look up at her, Brody’s facing me and I can see the brilliant smile on his face as he listens to her continue to sing. I’ve heard my sister and Chloe sing to the kids before and let me just say, no recording studios will be knocking on their doors anytime soon to sign them.

But Cami.

Cami.Her name is a moan inside my head.

Her voice is beautiful. Soft but still a little husky. She sounds like she should be singing to a crowded room in a blues or R&B club. No one would be talking. Their attention completely on Cami and the way she’s captivating them with her voice. She would have her eyes closed, standing on the stage, gripping the microphone and no one would be able to tear their attention away from her. Not that they’d want to. She’s too pretty not to stare at.

Even singing a nursery rhyme that’s been around for a million years, it’s the most incredible voice I’ve ever heard. So much so, my feet become glued to where I stand. I don’t want to make a sound for fear of her stopping.

“O!” Brody cries out, outing my presence but she doesn’t notice. She must think he’s just jabbering or exclaiming his happiness over her singing.

But then he points in my direction and she turns her head. Our eyes connect and that’s when I see what I missed earlier. The sadness she was wearing just minutes ago like a cloak isn’t covering her like it was. The magic of The Escape, maybe? Or possibly the magic of the Brody and Issy duo.

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