Page 69 of The Last Time

We sit in silence for a while, looking out at the water. A big fishing boat rolls by, which catches our attention.

“I haven’t been on a boat in forever,” Charlotte says, breaking the silence.

I look over at her and see her admire the boats that go by.

“I have a boat. I was thinking about taking it out this weekend. You wanna come with me?”

“Seriously? You have a boat?” she exclaims.

“I do.”

“When are you thinking of taking it out?”

“Layla was going to take Brie for the night after our beach day. I was going to do an evening cruise, maybe try to catch some fish.”

“I’d love to join you.”

“It’s a date.” I smile at her, then glance back at the water.

“Daddy, I’m hungry.”

“Yeah, we need to head home anyway so I can start dinner.”

“Charwotte come too?” Brie asks.

I look at her sympathetically. “I’m sure Charlotte has things to do, sweetie.”

Brie looks up at her with big doe eyes. “You don’t wanna come?”

“Oh, um, of course I would. I don’t know if your daddy really wants…” Charlotte begins, but Brie is already jumping off her lap in excitement.

We both lunge for her to make sure she doesn’t fall into the water. When I pick her up into my arms and rest her on my hip, Charlotte puts her hand on her heart.

“Come on, let’s go.” Brie motions us along.

“You don’t have to come. She’s actually not in control, as much as she thinks she is sometimes.”

Charlotte shrugs her shoulders. “I don’t mind if you don’t mind.”

Do I mind? Of course, I would love the company. And Brie is obviously enamored with her. There is still the nagging thought in the back of my mind telling me to be careful.

“I don’t mind,” I tell her, deciding it’s just dinner. “I’d actually love the company.”

“Okay, well, I’ll meet you guys there. I just need to send out a couple more emails.”

At the end of the dock, we walk our separate ways and agree to meet at my house.

I’m nervous as hell. I can’t remember the state of my house, but I’m sure it’s not clean enough. It’s not like she’s going to walk in and start checking for dust, but I can’t remember the last time I actually did dust.

Once we’re home, I set Brie up with a small snack while I run around the house picking things up. Blocks are everywhere on the ground, crayons on the kitchen table with paper scattered about.

A pile of half-folded laundry sits on the couch in the family room. I place it all into a laundry basket, hoping to keep the piles somewhat organized so all work isn’t lost.

I start to run toward the kitchen to put dirty dishes in the dishwasher, but somehow miss the baby doll on the floor. My foot gets stuck in between the legs of the doll, and I go flying toward the end table next to the couch.

It feels like it’s all happening in slow motion. I can see the table inching closer to my face, but I can’t seem to dodge it.

It smashes into my forehead, and I bounce off the damn table like a ping-pong ball.

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