Page 8 of Love Me

We’re all so close in age because my damn father couldn’t keep his filthy paws off of our perfect saint of a mother. Poor thing spent nine months pregnant with spawn one and two, then immediately got pregnant with me, and then Carter not long after I was born. She’s had her hands full, and hell, the four of us boys didn’t make it easy on her. We still don’t. Kinsey was a complete surprise and has been an angel since the day she was born.

Me: *Middle finger emoji*

Done with this conversation, I slam the door of my truck, leaving it running to keep it warm, and jog up the stairs to the second-story door that leads to Hannah’s apartment, knocking twice before opening it. Not wanting to take off my boots, I lean into the doorway before shouting.

“Han! I’m here.Ready when you two are!”

The pitter-patter of little feet hits my ears before I see her. Barreling around the corner dressed in fleece leggings with a long sleeve dress, comes Charlie, flying at me with a hairbrush in her hand.

“Munchkin!” I yell as she launches herself into my waiting arms. I scoop her up, standing to my full height and bringing her outside with me, my nerves and anger settling instantly.

“Mumma was right. It’s freezing today!” she squeals and shivers in my arms.

“It’s a cold one. But we love the cold, don’t we?”

“Yes! Will you do my hair? I want braids but Mumma said we don’t have time.”

“We always have time for braids.”

Kicking off my boots, I step into the kitchen and set Charlie’s feet back on the tiled floor.

I sit on the ground and take the hairbrush from her hands as she settles in front of me.

“One braid or two?”

“TWO! It’s Sunday, so it’s safe to wear two. Pigtail braids are my favorite,” she says, her little three-year-old voice laced with a bit of sadness instead of her usual excitement.

“Is it not safe to wear pigtail braids on other days?”

“Julian said my braids are stupid.”

Oh hell no. Just like that, I’ve got beef with a four-year-old. Julian is stupid. Her braids are perfect. Julian is a little jerk face, and I hope I run into his dad one of these days. I finish up one braid before turning her around to face me.

“Charlotte Sidney. Repeat after me. I am strong.”

“I am strong.”

“I am smart.”

“I am smart.”

“I am brave.”

“I am brave.”

“I am beautiful.”

“I am beautiful.”

“My braids are not stupid.”

“But Julian said . . .”

“It doesn’t matter what Julian said. It matters whatyouthink. Do you like your braids?”

“I love my braids.”

“Then say it. My braids are not stupid.”

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