Page 25 of Mr. Almost

After several daysof the dreaded stomach bug, the three of us are jammed together on my small couch as we watchBeauty and the Beast. Ari is lying on her side between Mason and me, with her head in his lap and her feet in mine. While they are engrossed in the movie, I can’t help but stare at them.

I always knew my little girl had her dad’s dark hair, but I thought that was where it ended. Only now do I see that they are more alike than I thought. From their matching chin dimple, one that I wasn’t even aware that he had thanks to his facial hair, to their little mannerisms.

They run their hands through their hair the same. Their noses twitch when they don’t like something, and so much more.

It’s almost as if I hit copy and paste without trying.

He looks down and smiles at her while he runs his fingers through her hair, and my mind drifts back to the other night.

“Mommy! Daddy!” Ari wails.

We both sit up with a start. Jumping up, I try to go to my daughter but get tangled up in the blanket. “Dammit!”

Mason brushes by, getting to our daughter first.

It should be me who gets to her first, I think to myself as I get free from the blanket.

“It’s okay…” he coos.

I stop in the doorway and take in the scene before me. Mason is holding Ari as she cries, trying his best to console her.

She must sense me because she looks up at me. “Mommy, I threw up. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, none of that,” I say lightly as I move across the room. I crouch next to Mason and rub our girl’s back. “Accidents happen, you know that.”

“I think it got in her hair too,” Mason murmurs.

I cringe. Gross. “Okay, let’s get you in the shower. It will make you feel better.”

Arianna reluctantly removes herself from her father’s hold and takes my hand. I lead her into the bathroom, and we get to work. She throws up one more time before finishing her shower.

“I’ll be right back, okay? I’m going to go grab you some pj’s,” I tell her when I realize we didn’t bring any into the bathroom with us.

“Okay, Mommy.”

I leave the bathroom and stop short when I see Mason remaking her bed.

“What are you doing?”

He looks over his shoulder at me and raises a brow. “I’m making her bed.”

“But why?”

“Surely you didn’t expect her to sleep in her vomit.”

I roll my eyes at his sarcasm. “Of course not. I just wasn’t expecting you to help.”

A look I can’t quite decipher crosses his face as he stands, giving me his full attention. “I know you’ve done this all by yourself for years,but you don’t have to do it alone anymore. I want to help, Livvy. Hell, I want it more than anything. So expect it, okay?”

“I-I…” I struggle to find words.

“You’ve done a great job with our daughter, but it’s time we do it together. Okay?”

Reluctantly, I nod.

Mason smiles. “Good, now how about you get those pj’s so we can get her back to bed?”

“She needs another dose of Tylenol,” I tell him as I move to her dresser.

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