Page 80 of Hold You Close
I exit the bathroom, and Ian is right there.
“Is she—”
My finger touches his lip and I tilt my head, instructing him to follow me.
When we get into Morgan’s room, I keep my voice quiet.
“She got her period.”
“Oh God. I’m so not equipped to handle this shit.”
Yeah, we’re well aware of that. However, he has to pull it together. “You need to go to my house and get a maxi pad out of my cabinet,” I tell him.
Those cartoons where the eyes fall out of the character’s head? It happens before me. Ian’s lips part and he’s just staring.
I snap my fingers in front of his face. “Hello?”
“No.”
“No?”
He shakes his head. “Nope. I’ll do the boy shit, but you’ve got the girls.”
“Umm, that’s not how this works.”
“I’m not going rummaging through your medicine cabinet to look for pads and tampons.”
I cross my arms. “Are you going to go in the bathroom and explain to her how to use them or would you rather go get the stuff so your twelve-year-old niece doesn’t feel worse about herself?”
“I’d rather talk to Christopher about hair on his balls and the proper use of deodorant,” Ian replies.
Well, I’d like a lot of things too, but he’s going to man up and do what is required of him.
“Ian, I don’t have time to argue, your niece needs you,” I say like a coach would to his player. “Now, get your head in the game and go get a maxi pad from under my cabinet.”
He glares at me, clearly not enjoying the situation he finds himself in. Oh well, it’s not like I’m excited by this either.
“Right now, I’m cursing my sister for dying.”
“Curse her as you walk your ass over there.”
He leaves the house, and I head back inside the bathroom. Morgan and I talk about growing up and what all this means. She cries a lot, hating how she feels and the lovely side effects of becoming a woman. It sucks, and as much as I want to paint this into a beautiful picture for her, I’m coming up short.
Sabrina would’ve been so much better at this.
A few minutes later, Ian knocks on the door and slips me the pad. He brought all four options from my cabinet. After she’s all cleaned up, she heads right to her room, too embarrassed to look her uncle in the eye.
“Is she okay?” he asks.
“She will be.”
“Thank fuck you live right next door. I seriously thought some apocalyptic shit was going on inside that bathroom.”
My stomach drops as the reality of my situation slaps me back in the face. We need to talk, and it’s the last thing I want to do right now.
Ian and I are happy. I want so badly for us to work, and there’s no way we’ll be able to once I take the promotion.
Which is the other half of the issue—I don’t want it.
