Chapter 12

“Stop it. Stop doing that.”

“Make me,” William mouthed, not making a sound.

“You’re such a—go put on some socks!” Buffy whispered back. “Your feet are like ice!”

As the twins chattered, William shrugged and continued sneak his toes up Buffy’s pant leg.

“I wish we could have noodles everyday.”

“Yeah,” Jamie said, agreeing with his sister. “I wish we could have noodles and donuts everyday. That’d be great.”

“Jamie, love, for your information, after the stunt you pulled yesterday, you won’t be having another donut until you turn eighteen.”

“Eighteen?!” the twins shrieked together, both wide-eyed.

Finding their reaction amusing, Buffy covered her mouth full of spaghetti with her hand before she could laugh out loud. “Can you guys even count that high?”

“Nooo!”

“What? Oh, yes you can. He can count, Buffy.”

“Hey, if he can’t, it’s no big deal--.”

“Don’t you remember your book? How many times have we read it together, mate? We read it yesterday while your mummy was sleeping, yes?”

“Um… Um…” Jamie took a break from slurping his beloved noodles to thoughtfully tap his chin. “I have no idea!”

“You have no idea? What, is this fucking amnesia contagious? Are we having an outbreak?”

“William,” Buffy scolded. “Hello, language?”

“I’m sorry, but do you have any idea how many times I’ve read him that book? Day after day for six bloody months!”

“Oh. Well, now I can see why you’re cranky, but still…”

He snorted, his face still scrunched in a frown. “Jamie, in your book—your favorite book, I’ll remind you—there’s a farmer, and he owns one horse, two cows, three pigs, and four, four sodding hamsters--.”

“Four hamsters? He must be a pretty weird farmer to have only two cows and four hamsters--.”

“No, mommy! He doesn’t have any hamsters, he has four sheeps and twenty goats!”

“Oh,” Buffy blinked, surprised by Sarah’s tone. “Uh, I, I knew that. Four sheeps…”

“Hey, young lady, that was uncalled for--.”

“William, don’t. It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay, it was rude. And completely unlike you, Sarah.”

“Daddy, why doesn’t mommy know things anymore? Why doesn’t she know about the sheeps?”

“Well…” William began, biting his lip. He trailed off and touched her back. “Kitten, it’s sheep, not sheeps.”

“I can explain…” Buffy looked from Sarah’s big curious eyes to Jamie’s orange crooked grin. “Okay, no I can’t. William, help me?”

“Ah, your mother, well…she’s still sick from yesterday--.”

“Does her tummy hurt? Does your tummy hurt, mom? I don’t like it when mine hurts.”

“God, Jamie…” She dipped the corner of a napkin in her ice water and gently wiped his face. “My tummy still feels fine.”

“It’s her head,” William explained. “It…she…”

“Are we still playing a game, mommy?” Sarah asked. “Am I winning? Can I have another cupcake?”

“I want one too! I wanna cupcake!”

“We’ll talk about dessert shortly--.”

“What’s a-amnesia?” Jamie asked, struggling to say the new word. “What’s that mean?”

“It’s when you can’t remember things, important things like about the sheep and where Joy’s room is…” Buffy explained. “Eh, have you ever seen Muppets Take Manhattan? Kermit gets amnesia in that movie--.”

“Kermit? Kermit the Frog?”

“Do you like Kermit?”

Sarah’s head bobbed as she smiled brightly. “I love Kermie, and Miss Piggy and Gonzo and--.”

“But, but you’re not a frog!”

“My, aren’t you a sharp-eyed little thing? You’re right, Jamie, your mother is not a frog.”

“But…daddy, when will she get better?!”

“Well…”

“After I go to the doctor,” Buffy said. “I’ll be better really soon, guys.”

“Okay. Mom, can we have cupcakes now?!”
***

“The Kermit thing, that was brilliant.”

“Do you really think so?”

“I know so. We’ll have to get a copy of that movie and show it to them.”

“And it’ll help them understand?”

“It definitely wouldn’t hurt. It was only a matter of time before the twins would have their questions, love.”

“I know; they’re just way too smart for their own good. We should consider fixing that,” Buffy said, laughing quietly. “I do feel better now, now that I’ve told them something.”

“I feel better too.” William turned on the faucet and plugged the bottom of the sink. “Do me a favor? Can you get the soap? It’s in the cabinet down there, on your side.”

“More dishes? Who really washes dishes after every meal?”

“We do. Want to help me dry?”

“I guess,” she said, reaching for a towel. “You know what I think is brilliant? Jamie’s noodle suit. He was all smiles during dinner. It’s like a superhero costume for him, isn’t it?”

“Oh, yes. We had plans to surprise him by adding a cape to it.”

“Aww, we need to do that.”

“We will,” he said, flashing her a brief smile. “There came a time when the little fool refused to wear a bib of any kind, so we gave him a big shirt, decorated it, and named it a neat name that he could scream from the rooftops.”

“And so the noodle suit was born… He told me that we—that he and I—painted it together.”

“You did, and it was the first and last time that he’s ever going to get his hands on fabric paints.”

“I can just imagine how much fun that must’ve been,” she snickered, reaching for a clean dish to dry. “So are finger-paints entirely out of the picture?”

“The twins don’t even know that finger-paints exist, and I trust that you won’t enlighten them.”

“What about silly putty?”

“Over my dead body.”

“Easy-Bake Ovens?”

“Of course not, they aren’t appropriate for children under the age of eight…thank the lord.”

“God, dad, what can we do for fun around here?”

“You’ve seen it: television, books, and board games.”

“It’s like the golden olden days! What about noisy toys? Do we have any of those?”

“A few.”

“Really? Do these few toys have batteries, or does daddy steal them all?”

“Would I do such a thing? Me?”

“Yes!” she chuckled, giving him a shove. “You would totally do such a thing! I’d bet anything on it!”

“Well, in my defense there are only so many times I can hear those bloody cheery songs…all those fucking obnoxious squawky noises. Either I take the batteries, or I hide the entire thing.”

“I knew it.” She grinned, and instead of grabbing another plate, she ducked under William’s arm, slipping between his body and the sink. “Don’t touch me.”

“What?”

“I’m going to kiss you; touch me with wet hands, and I’ll kick your ass.”

“Buffy--.”

She stopped him from speaking by capturing his lips. Since he couldn’t use his hands, he made a point to push a knee between her legs as he eagerly kissed her back.

“What did I do to deserve this?”

“Mmm,” she hummed between kisses. “Do I need a reason to kiss you?”

“Well, I wanted to know if it was something I said, because if it was, I plan on saying those same words again and again.”

“You’re such a flirt…God, that used to annoy the shit out of me.” Unable to resist, she dotted kisses along his chin and neck. “It was like you were always throwing it in my face…that you were so wonderful. It made me mad because, there you were…looking at me the way you do…and I was going home to Riley.”

“Must we talk about him?”

“Sorry.”

“It’s alright.”

“He was such a big part of my life.”

“The part that you remember…”

“Yes, but I remember you too. I don’t remember as much as I should, but I remember you, William.”

He kissed her again and took a step back. “We should finish these dishes.”

“You still want to clean?”

“It has to be done sometime, and we have a lot to do before Santa shows up.”

“The swing set, I remember.”

“Not just that; all those presents have to be drug downstairs.”

“Darn, guess we don’t have time to make-out then.” She sighed dramatically before returning to her spot, and picking up another plate. “I don’t know if I like this parenting thing after all. It’s not very fun. I mean, I have to cook, we can’t have silly putty and you won’t even try to get into my pants when there are dishes to do? The married life sucks.”

“Are you finished?”

“No, as a matter of fact--.” She opened her mouth, ready to tease him further, but Joy began to cry from the living room.

“Since your life sucks so much, darling, I think it’s your turn to change Jo’s diaper.”

“What? I don’t think so--.”

“And while you’re at it, I had to bathe the twins yesterday; I’m thinking it’s your turn now.”

“Oh, oh, oh--.”

“No, love, it’s: ho, ho, ho.”

“You’re such a smart ass!”

“I guess so. We all have our flaws, you know.”

“And what will you be doing as I slave away?”

“Oh, sitting on the couch, of course.”

“Of course,” she grumbled. “Well, I’m definitely not drying anymore dishes.” She balled up the towel and tossed it on the counter.

“You can sulk all you want, Summers.”

“I’m not sulking.”

“If you distract the kids, I’ll work on the swing set.” Before she could stomp out of the kitchen, Buffy’s ears perked up. “And the sooner, I finish it, the more free time we’ll have this evening.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“To do what exactly?”

“Your choice. I’m game for anything.”
***





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