A Tour of the Heart (10/?)
Title: A Tour of the Heart (10/?)
Fandom: CSI: Miami
Characters: Eric/Calleigh
Rating: PG13
Summary: They say if you really want to understand someone, you have to understand where they come from.
Catching up? Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight
Charlotte had a headache. In fact, she had three of them, and their names were Gracie, Tyler and Pamela Duquesne. Gracie was having a meltdown on the kitchen floor, wailing and sobbing in the way only a two year old can, distraught over another night away from home. Tyler was currently tearing through the house, in and out of the kitchen, the living room, out onto the porch and back, hollering at the top of his lungs as Grandma Pam chased after him - a bit slower, but making good speed nonetheless - and hooting with laughter. If Duke and Tuck didn’t get back from the store soon, she was going to start beating heads with the Nerf bat she’d confiscated from Tyler on his first lap. It was now clutched tightly in her hand as she stood sentry in the kitchen, vibrating with irritation at her son for being a terror and her mother-in-law for being a meddling old hen.
Duke and Pam had offered to take the kids again tonight, so the siblings - her and Tuck, Bryan and Rob, and Calleigh and Eric - could have a night to themselves. Burgers on the grill, longneck bottles of beer, hell Charlotte had even dragged out a stack of board games from the back of the closet. It had been a good plan, a wonderful plan - until she realized that her husband and his bonehead brothers had consumed most of the beer in the house over the last weekend, and the hamburger had gone bad in the fridge. So Duke and Tucker had been sent out for more meat, and she’d called Bryan to pick up the drinks. She hadn’t heard a peep from Calleigh all day, and that was exactly how she liked it. As far as she was concerned, no news was good news.
Of course, no news meant no gossip for Pam, and there was nobody who lived on family gossip like Pamela Duquesne. So instead of taking Tucker up on the offer to drive his father home after the store, freeing up Duke’s car for Pam to take the kids and get them settled and bathed and ready for bed at a decent time, she was still here, riling Tyler up and stalling so she could meet Eric. She’d made her excuses, of course, something about it being a waste of Tucker’s time, and how it would take him out of his way (a whopping ten miles), and cut into his time with his siblings. Ridiculous. The honest truth was that this was the first time Calleigh had brought home a man since she’d arrived for Christmas with Jake Berkeley during her academy days, and Pamela was practically bursting with excitement.
Charlotte heard a car pull up, and prayed it was her husband, only to be disappointed a moment later when Bryan walked in, toting two six-packs of Abita Turbodog. She heard her son squeal from the porch, and guessed he’d been caught mid-sprint.
“Evening, ma’am,” Bryan greeted with mock formality before turning his attention to Grace on the floor, and adding with another nod, “Little ma’am.”
“No offense, Bry, but you’re not the Duquesne I was hoping for,” she grumbled, reaching down and scooping Gracie up, unsurprised when she went noodle-limp and continued to cry. “And there’d better be more beer than that.”
He laughed, moving to the fridge to unpack the beer and set it cooling. “We’ve got some Restoration in the car,” he assured before nodding his head toward Gracie. “What’s her problem?”
“She doesn’t want to go to Grandma’s,” Charlotte supplied, narrowly missing a swinging toddler fist, and suppressing the urge to holler herself. She’d had just about enough of this.
A moment later, Rob walked in, one arm looped around Tyler’s waist, as he hung upside down from his shoulder, legs kicking madly as he cackled with glee. Perfect.
“Tyler Jacob Duquesne, if you kick out a light fixture, I swear to Jesus…” Charlotte warned, and as her mother-in-law strolled in, half out of breath and toting the promised six-packs of Restoration ale, Rob swatted Tyler lightly on the rear and ordered him to cool it. To Charlotte’s immense surprise, he actually listened, going limp and panting from exertion. Well, it was nice to see that her children listened to somebody. Now, if only that somebody could be her.
Another car pulled up outside, and Pam hustled over to the window, depositing her six-packs on the countertop as she shamelessly peered out to see who had arrived. From the way her eyes lit up and she ran a hand through her sandy-blonde hair to make sure it was in order, Charlotte knew it wasn’t Tucker.
“Must be Calleigh,” Charlotte muttered, sending Tyler into a tizzy again.
“Auntie CJ! Auntie CJ!” he hollered, wiggling so hard and so suddenly that Rob nearly dropped him on his head before he managed to get a good grip on him again. “Put me down! I wanna go see auntie CJ!”
Headache throbbing suddenly, as the Rob-Tyler-Pam conglomerate headed out to the front porch, Charlotte just looked to Bryan. “Beer. I need a beer.”
Because Gracie had managed to wind herself down to low hitching sobs, he heard her loud and clear and was on his way to the Restoration on the countertop before she’d even gotten the words out. The fact that he was laughing at her was forgivable as far as she was concerned, because in less than a minute, he was trading the bottle for her daughter - who protested by throwing her head back and starting up into a good wail again. Charlotte gulped from the bottle, not giving a damn that it was warm. It was alcoholic, and at the moment, that was enough.
A moment later, a cluster of people made their way into the kitchen - Calleigh now holding Tyler, who was chatting animatedly to her about his upcoming t-ball game as she tried to crane her neck to keep Pam in view while she chatted up a column of tall, dark and Cuban that could be none other than Eric Delko. He was even better-looking in person, Charlotte decided, and if she hadn’t been so frazzled she’d have had the good sense to offer him a beer or ask him to help her fire up the grill. Anything to get him away from the appraising eye of her mother-in-law. As it was, she just gulped down another swallow and looked to Bryan.
“Rescue him,” she pleaded quietly, and Bryan gave her a small salute before handing Gracie back and crossing the kitchen to wedge himself between Eric and Pam. Good man, Charlotte thought again. Very good man.
“Hey, Eric,” he greeted, looping an arm around the taller man’s shoulder and guiding him toward the fridge. “Good to see you again.”
“You, too,” Eric replied, looking both amused and relieved as Bryan lead him to the six-packs on the counter, then kindly requested he help get them packed away to cool. Eric was all too happy to oblige, following Bryan to the fridge where they took their time tucking the beer away and speaking in voices too low to hear over Gracie’s continued tantrum. Charlotte’s eardrums were going to be ringing soon.
“Well, isn’t he helpful,” Pam sighed, casting a satisfied glance toward Eric as Rob carted in another two six-packs and Tyler twisted in Calleigh’s arms. She let him down and he scampered to the fridge, no doubt wanting to help the men do manly things like unpack beer. When Eric held out a hand, Tyler plucked a beer from one of Rob’s packs and handed it over with a grin. “It’s like he’s already family.”
Charlotte watched Calleigh’s face fall into a frustrated scowl. “Mama. I swear, if you don’t drop it-“
“Calleigh Jo, it’s a mother’s right to nudge her daughter once she gets to a certain age-“
“Is nudging what you call it?” Cal questioned, dropping her voice in an attempt to keep the conversation at least semi-private. “Because from my end it feels an awful lot like pushing, and I don’t need that right now. Eric and I don’t need that right now.”
“Oh, fine,” she huffed in reply, casting another glance at them. Tyler had now wedged himself between his uncles and Eric and was half in the fridge doing God only knew what. “But one of these days, you should think about settling down and letting yourself be happy.”
Charlotte watched as Calleigh’s eyes went wide and angry for a moment, but she apparently thought better of whatever she was going to say. Instead, she turned and swiped Charlotte’s beer up from where she’d left it on the counter when she took Gracie back. She gulped down a few swallows and grimaced. “It’s warm.”
“It is,” Charlotte confirmed. “Your brother just brought it in. He only beat you by about a minute.”
“I like him, if that means anything to you,” Pam cut in, arms crossed, staring Calleigh down.
“Oh, honestly,” Charlotte groaned, shifting Gracie from one arm to the other, and rocking her in the hope that she’d hush. “Will you both just grow up and knock it off?” The way they turned to her with nearly identical offended expressions was almost comical. The two of them were more alike than either would ever admit. “I mean it,” Charlotte added. “You two wanna bicker over Calleigh’s love life, do it somewhere that isn’t my kitchen. That way I don’t have to listen, referee, or clean up the blood stains when you finally piss her off enough that she pulls out her gun and shoots you.”
They both looked thoroughly put out for a moment before Calleigh surprised Charlotte by sighing and extending the olive branch. “Yes, it means something, Mama. Thank you. But it’s been a long weekend for all of us, and I don’t want to talk about this right now.”
For her part, Pamela gave a considerate nod, and agreed, “Fair enough,” before reaching out to rub Gracie’s back. The toddler wrenched away and cried harder and Charlotte just about lost it.
“NO gamma!” Gracie wailed, and Charlotte might have grabbed her beer back from Calleigh if she hadn’t been trying to wrangle a twisting toddler. “No gamma! Mama! Mama! Stay hoooooome!”
With a heavy sigh, Charlotte relented. “You can’t take her. Take Tyler, but she won’t handle it tonight. She’s a mess.”
“Oh, but I was so lookin’ forward to having them both over,” Pam sighed, and Charlotte couldn’t help her scoff.
“It’s bedtime, Pam. You’re taking them for baths and bed. They’ve been all over the place for the last few days because their schedules have been shot to hell.”
“You gonna pay the electric bill, Bry?”
Charlotte looked up at her husband’s voice; she hadn’t even heard Tucker’s car pull in. “Oh, thank God,” she groaned. “Thank God you’re back, now send your parents away with our son before my head explodes.”
“Charlotte!” he chided, laughing, and Pam rolled her eyes.
“Oh, honestly, Charlotte.” She shook her head as Tucker leaned in to press a kiss to Charlotte forehead on his way to the fridge. “She thinks I’m meddling.”
“I’m sure you are,” Tucker told her, nodding a heads-up to Rob before tossing him the bag of groceries. “But I’m pretty sure that’s also a mother’s job, so we’ll let it go this once. Now, take the kids; we have grilling to do.”
“We’re keeping Gracie,” Charlotte informed, pleased that the toddler seemed to have settled down once she heard she was going to be sleeping in her own bed. She was still clinging like a monkey and sniffling, but at least the screaming had stopped. “She either needs her own bed tonight or a straightjacket, and I’m fresh out of the latter, so…”
“Oh, has my baby girl been difficult?” he asked with a sympathetic frown - for the baby, not Charlotte - and when he headed back in their direction and reached for Gracie, easing her away, Charlotte was so glad the baby didn’t cry again that she let his disregard for her stress go unmentioned. Instead she reached out to snatch her beer back from Calleigh.
“One might say,” she drawled sarcastically, before taking a deep swallow. “She’s been screaming bloody murder since y’all left for the store.”
He turned that frown on her then, reaching out to tuck her hair behind her ear before telling her, “You’re a goddess among women for putting up with my children.”
“Hell spawns,” she corrected, gulping another swallow of beer. “Your hell spawns. Demon babies. Monsters.”
Tucker snickered and relieved her of her beer, taking a quick sip before stepping closer until she was pinned between him and the countertop. He ducked his head to kiss her, and Gracie squirmed between them, apparently none too pleased at being sandwiched. “Goddess,” he assured again before taking a step back is his father walked into the kitchen.
“Well, what in the hell is taking so long?” Duke asked, grinning as he shook his head at his children. It struck Charlotte suddenly just how much it must have pleased him to see them all in one room - she hadn’t seen that light in his eyes since he’d come home to see after Clara. “I thought I told you to send your mother on out to the car so she would stop pestering you kids.”
“Don’t you want to meet Calleigh’s boyfriend?” Pam asked with a raised brow.
“I’ve met him,” he assured, “ and I’ll see him again on Saturday. Now let’s round up the grandbabies and get outta here.”
“Marry me, Duke,” Charlotte insisted emphatically, glad there was someone in the family interested in getting people out of her kitchen. “Marry me, just for that. Pamela can stay and fight Calleigh for Eric, Tucker can take care of the babies, and you and I will run off to Aruba together and sell seashells to gullible tourists on the beach.”
As Tucker, Pam, and Calleigh, all “hey!”ed in response, Duke whooped a laugh and shook his head at her. “Alright, let’s go-tomorrow! Tonight, you kids enjoy yourselves.”
“Will do,” she assured, saluting him and laughing as he waved Tyler over and snuck him a lollipop that he didn’t think Charlotte saw. At this point, she didn’t give a damn. Let them deal with a sugared up seven-year-old; she was going to put her toddler down and enjoy an evening with actual adults for a change. “Your princess is staying here tonight; she’s in no shape for a sleepover. Tyler, put that sucker in your pocket and come give Mama a kiss goodbye.”
Five minutes later, Pam, Duke, and Tyler had been piled into the car and sent away. Ten minutes after that, the men had wandered to the back yard to fire up the grill, and Charlotte was joining Calleigh and Gracie on the porch swing, her headache beginning to feel considerably better.
.
“That's how it goes,
A day in my life.
I'm on my toes
From morning to night.
Livin' like this
Some might say it's
So exhaustin', frenzied, manic.
Call me nuts, but I like it frantic.”
-- “Frantic”
Jamie O’Neal
Fandom: CSI: Miami
Characters: Eric/Calleigh
Rating: PG13
Summary: They say if you really want to understand someone, you have to understand where they come from.
Catching up? Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight
Charlotte had a headache. In fact, she had three of them, and their names were Gracie, Tyler and Pamela Duquesne. Gracie was having a meltdown on the kitchen floor, wailing and sobbing in the way only a two year old can, distraught over another night away from home. Tyler was currently tearing through the house, in and out of the kitchen, the living room, out onto the porch and back, hollering at the top of his lungs as Grandma Pam chased after him - a bit slower, but making good speed nonetheless - and hooting with laughter. If Duke and Tuck didn’t get back from the store soon, she was going to start beating heads with the Nerf bat she’d confiscated from Tyler on his first lap. It was now clutched tightly in her hand as she stood sentry in the kitchen, vibrating with irritation at her son for being a terror and her mother-in-law for being a meddling old hen.
Duke and Pam had offered to take the kids again tonight, so the siblings - her and Tuck, Bryan and Rob, and Calleigh and Eric - could have a night to themselves. Burgers on the grill, longneck bottles of beer, hell Charlotte had even dragged out a stack of board games from the back of the closet. It had been a good plan, a wonderful plan - until she realized that her husband and his bonehead brothers had consumed most of the beer in the house over the last weekend, and the hamburger had gone bad in the fridge. So Duke and Tucker had been sent out for more meat, and she’d called Bryan to pick up the drinks. She hadn’t heard a peep from Calleigh all day, and that was exactly how she liked it. As far as she was concerned, no news was good news.
Of course, no news meant no gossip for Pam, and there was nobody who lived on family gossip like Pamela Duquesne. So instead of taking Tucker up on the offer to drive his father home after the store, freeing up Duke’s car for Pam to take the kids and get them settled and bathed and ready for bed at a decent time, she was still here, riling Tyler up and stalling so she could meet Eric. She’d made her excuses, of course, something about it being a waste of Tucker’s time, and how it would take him out of his way (a whopping ten miles), and cut into his time with his siblings. Ridiculous. The honest truth was that this was the first time Calleigh had brought home a man since she’d arrived for Christmas with Jake Berkeley during her academy days, and Pamela was practically bursting with excitement.
Charlotte heard a car pull up, and prayed it was her husband, only to be disappointed a moment later when Bryan walked in, toting two six-packs of Abita Turbodog. She heard her son squeal from the porch, and guessed he’d been caught mid-sprint.
“Evening, ma’am,” Bryan greeted with mock formality before turning his attention to Grace on the floor, and adding with another nod, “Little ma’am.”
“No offense, Bry, but you’re not the Duquesne I was hoping for,” she grumbled, reaching down and scooping Gracie up, unsurprised when she went noodle-limp and continued to cry. “And there’d better be more beer than that.”
He laughed, moving to the fridge to unpack the beer and set it cooling. “We’ve got some Restoration in the car,” he assured before nodding his head toward Gracie. “What’s her problem?”
“She doesn’t want to go to Grandma’s,” Charlotte supplied, narrowly missing a swinging toddler fist, and suppressing the urge to holler herself. She’d had just about enough of this.
A moment later, Rob walked in, one arm looped around Tyler’s waist, as he hung upside down from his shoulder, legs kicking madly as he cackled with glee. Perfect.
“Tyler Jacob Duquesne, if you kick out a light fixture, I swear to Jesus…” Charlotte warned, and as her mother-in-law strolled in, half out of breath and toting the promised six-packs of Restoration ale, Rob swatted Tyler lightly on the rear and ordered him to cool it. To Charlotte’s immense surprise, he actually listened, going limp and panting from exertion. Well, it was nice to see that her children listened to somebody. Now, if only that somebody could be her.
Another car pulled up outside, and Pam hustled over to the window, depositing her six-packs on the countertop as she shamelessly peered out to see who had arrived. From the way her eyes lit up and she ran a hand through her sandy-blonde hair to make sure it was in order, Charlotte knew it wasn’t Tucker.
“Must be Calleigh,” Charlotte muttered, sending Tyler into a tizzy again.
“Auntie CJ! Auntie CJ!” he hollered, wiggling so hard and so suddenly that Rob nearly dropped him on his head before he managed to get a good grip on him again. “Put me down! I wanna go see auntie CJ!”
Headache throbbing suddenly, as the Rob-Tyler-Pam conglomerate headed out to the front porch, Charlotte just looked to Bryan. “Beer. I need a beer.”
Because Gracie had managed to wind herself down to low hitching sobs, he heard her loud and clear and was on his way to the Restoration on the countertop before she’d even gotten the words out. The fact that he was laughing at her was forgivable as far as she was concerned, because in less than a minute, he was trading the bottle for her daughter - who protested by throwing her head back and starting up into a good wail again. Charlotte gulped from the bottle, not giving a damn that it was warm. It was alcoholic, and at the moment, that was enough.
A moment later, a cluster of people made their way into the kitchen - Calleigh now holding Tyler, who was chatting animatedly to her about his upcoming t-ball game as she tried to crane her neck to keep Pam in view while she chatted up a column of tall, dark and Cuban that could be none other than Eric Delko. He was even better-looking in person, Charlotte decided, and if she hadn’t been so frazzled she’d have had the good sense to offer him a beer or ask him to help her fire up the grill. Anything to get him away from the appraising eye of her mother-in-law. As it was, she just gulped down another swallow and looked to Bryan.
“Rescue him,” she pleaded quietly, and Bryan gave her a small salute before handing Gracie back and crossing the kitchen to wedge himself between Eric and Pam. Good man, Charlotte thought again. Very good man.
“Hey, Eric,” he greeted, looping an arm around the taller man’s shoulder and guiding him toward the fridge. “Good to see you again.”
“You, too,” Eric replied, looking both amused and relieved as Bryan lead him to the six-packs on the counter, then kindly requested he help get them packed away to cool. Eric was all too happy to oblige, following Bryan to the fridge where they took their time tucking the beer away and speaking in voices too low to hear over Gracie’s continued tantrum. Charlotte’s eardrums were going to be ringing soon.
“Well, isn’t he helpful,” Pam sighed, casting a satisfied glance toward Eric as Rob carted in another two six-packs and Tyler twisted in Calleigh’s arms. She let him down and he scampered to the fridge, no doubt wanting to help the men do manly things like unpack beer. When Eric held out a hand, Tyler plucked a beer from one of Rob’s packs and handed it over with a grin. “It’s like he’s already family.”
Charlotte watched Calleigh’s face fall into a frustrated scowl. “Mama. I swear, if you don’t drop it-“
“Calleigh Jo, it’s a mother’s right to nudge her daughter once she gets to a certain age-“
“Is nudging what you call it?” Cal questioned, dropping her voice in an attempt to keep the conversation at least semi-private. “Because from my end it feels an awful lot like pushing, and I don’t need that right now. Eric and I don’t need that right now.”
“Oh, fine,” she huffed in reply, casting another glance at them. Tyler had now wedged himself between his uncles and Eric and was half in the fridge doing God only knew what. “But one of these days, you should think about settling down and letting yourself be happy.”
Charlotte watched as Calleigh’s eyes went wide and angry for a moment, but she apparently thought better of whatever she was going to say. Instead, she turned and swiped Charlotte’s beer up from where she’d left it on the counter when she took Gracie back. She gulped down a few swallows and grimaced. “It’s warm.”
“It is,” Charlotte confirmed. “Your brother just brought it in. He only beat you by about a minute.”
“I like him, if that means anything to you,” Pam cut in, arms crossed, staring Calleigh down.
“Oh, honestly,” Charlotte groaned, shifting Gracie from one arm to the other, and rocking her in the hope that she’d hush. “Will you both just grow up and knock it off?” The way they turned to her with nearly identical offended expressions was almost comical. The two of them were more alike than either would ever admit. “I mean it,” Charlotte added. “You two wanna bicker over Calleigh’s love life, do it somewhere that isn’t my kitchen. That way I don’t have to listen, referee, or clean up the blood stains when you finally piss her off enough that she pulls out her gun and shoots you.”
They both looked thoroughly put out for a moment before Calleigh surprised Charlotte by sighing and extending the olive branch. “Yes, it means something, Mama. Thank you. But it’s been a long weekend for all of us, and I don’t want to talk about this right now.”
For her part, Pamela gave a considerate nod, and agreed, “Fair enough,” before reaching out to rub Gracie’s back. The toddler wrenched away and cried harder and Charlotte just about lost it.
“NO gamma!” Gracie wailed, and Charlotte might have grabbed her beer back from Calleigh if she hadn’t been trying to wrangle a twisting toddler. “No gamma! Mama! Mama! Stay hoooooome!”
With a heavy sigh, Charlotte relented. “You can’t take her. Take Tyler, but she won’t handle it tonight. She’s a mess.”
“Oh, but I was so lookin’ forward to having them both over,” Pam sighed, and Charlotte couldn’t help her scoff.
“It’s bedtime, Pam. You’re taking them for baths and bed. They’ve been all over the place for the last few days because their schedules have been shot to hell.”
“You gonna pay the electric bill, Bry?”
Charlotte looked up at her husband’s voice; she hadn’t even heard Tucker’s car pull in. “Oh, thank God,” she groaned. “Thank God you’re back, now send your parents away with our son before my head explodes.”
“Charlotte!” he chided, laughing, and Pam rolled her eyes.
“Oh, honestly, Charlotte.” She shook her head as Tucker leaned in to press a kiss to Charlotte forehead on his way to the fridge. “She thinks I’m meddling.”
“I’m sure you are,” Tucker told her, nodding a heads-up to Rob before tossing him the bag of groceries. “But I’m pretty sure that’s also a mother’s job, so we’ll let it go this once. Now, take the kids; we have grilling to do.”
“We’re keeping Gracie,” Charlotte informed, pleased that the toddler seemed to have settled down once she heard she was going to be sleeping in her own bed. She was still clinging like a monkey and sniffling, but at least the screaming had stopped. “She either needs her own bed tonight or a straightjacket, and I’m fresh out of the latter, so…”
“Oh, has my baby girl been difficult?” he asked with a sympathetic frown - for the baby, not Charlotte - and when he headed back in their direction and reached for Gracie, easing her away, Charlotte was so glad the baby didn’t cry again that she let his disregard for her stress go unmentioned. Instead she reached out to snatch her beer back from Calleigh.
“One might say,” she drawled sarcastically, before taking a deep swallow. “She’s been screaming bloody murder since y’all left for the store.”
He turned that frown on her then, reaching out to tuck her hair behind her ear before telling her, “You’re a goddess among women for putting up with my children.”
“Hell spawns,” she corrected, gulping another swallow of beer. “Your hell spawns. Demon babies. Monsters.”
Tucker snickered and relieved her of her beer, taking a quick sip before stepping closer until she was pinned between him and the countertop. He ducked his head to kiss her, and Gracie squirmed between them, apparently none too pleased at being sandwiched. “Goddess,” he assured again before taking a step back is his father walked into the kitchen.
“Well, what in the hell is taking so long?” Duke asked, grinning as he shook his head at his children. It struck Charlotte suddenly just how much it must have pleased him to see them all in one room - she hadn’t seen that light in his eyes since he’d come home to see after Clara. “I thought I told you to send your mother on out to the car so she would stop pestering you kids.”
“Don’t you want to meet Calleigh’s boyfriend?” Pam asked with a raised brow.
“I’ve met him,” he assured, “ and I’ll see him again on Saturday. Now let’s round up the grandbabies and get outta here.”
“Marry me, Duke,” Charlotte insisted emphatically, glad there was someone in the family interested in getting people out of her kitchen. “Marry me, just for that. Pamela can stay and fight Calleigh for Eric, Tucker can take care of the babies, and you and I will run off to Aruba together and sell seashells to gullible tourists on the beach.”
As Tucker, Pam, and Calleigh, all “hey!”ed in response, Duke whooped a laugh and shook his head at her. “Alright, let’s go-tomorrow! Tonight, you kids enjoy yourselves.”
“Will do,” she assured, saluting him and laughing as he waved Tyler over and snuck him a lollipop that he didn’t think Charlotte saw. At this point, she didn’t give a damn. Let them deal with a sugared up seven-year-old; she was going to put her toddler down and enjoy an evening with actual adults for a change. “Your princess is staying here tonight; she’s in no shape for a sleepover. Tyler, put that sucker in your pocket and come give Mama a kiss goodbye.”
Five minutes later, Pam, Duke, and Tyler had been piled into the car and sent away. Ten minutes after that, the men had wandered to the back yard to fire up the grill, and Charlotte was joining Calleigh and Gracie on the porch swing, her headache beginning to feel considerably better.
.
“That's how it goes,
A day in my life.
I'm on my toes
From morning to night.
Livin' like this
Some might say it's
So exhaustin', frenzied, manic.
Call me nuts, but I like it frantic.”
-- “Frantic”
Jamie O’Neal