Page 115 of Unspoken Words
“Say, ‘hurry up, Ellie McEllie Head’.”
“Hurry up, McEllie Head.”
We all burst into laughter, my brother’s chuckle the deepest and loudest. “More like McElliephant Head.”
“Shut up, you jerk.”
Max’s face stretched, his mouth forming an O. His hand shot out, his pointer finger nearly poking me in the eye.
“What?” I asked, leaning back, worried.
“Uh oh. You just said a naughty word.”
“I did?”
Max pointed again.
Connor mouthed ‘jerk.’
I covered my mouth with my hand.
“Daddy. Ellie go to naughty corner.”
A devilish grin crept across Connor’s face, his equally devilish dimples popping. “Yes, Max. Elliewillgo to the naughty corner.”
My stomach tightened.
What the hell is in the naughty corner?
*
After arrivingat the recordingstudio, I’d spent ‘free’ minutes staring at a padded wall while Max counted repetitively behind me. Connor hadn’t come to my rescue, instead shrugging and telling me ‘rules are rules’ and that I’d have to endure my punishment, which would end when Max saw fit. Fortunately, my bribery skills were epic and my naughty corner tenure ended at the promise of a choc-chip muffin from the café next door. After that, Max and I became best friends. I even shared some of my notebook pages so that he could draw me a picture of a car.
He was truly adorable. Sweet, funny, intelligent, Max was the apple of his father’s eye, and I couldn’t deny that it warmed my heart. I also couldn’t deny they’d done a great job as his parents. But seeing Connor as a dad … Holy crap, my ovaries were waging war against me and my lonely uterus, tugging at the spot that would one day grow a baby of my own, a baby I hoped would have a father as loving and as attentive as Connor.
One day. One. Single. Day. That’s all I’d spent with him and Max, and the thoughts now swimming around my mind were completely insane. In one moment, I saw Connor, Max, and I at the park, having fun, a happy little family. In the next, I saw Lilah, and Connor putting Max to sleep, cooing over their gorgeous little miracle. And in the next, I saw Byron and me, walking hand in hand along a boardwalk under a humid, Darwin night sky. My head was a fishbowl of mind-fuckery, and the swimming needed to stop, now.
“Ready to see Mummy?” Connor asked as he strapped Max into his car seat.
“Mummy!”
“Lift up your arm, buddy, so Daddy can fasten your seatbelt.”
Max wrenched his arm up and clocked Connor on the nose with his plaster cast.
“Faaaaaar hahahaaaaaa Jesussssss,” Connor howled into the palm of his hand, now covering his face.
Letting go of my door handle, I rushed to his side, my eyes wide when he stood up and turned his back to his son, eyes watering, head tilted. He pulled his hand away from his face, and a stream of blood trickled from his nostril.
Max’s eyes welled with tears; he looked terrified. “You okay, Daddy?”
“Yes, Max,” I said, whacking Connor on the head with my notebook. “Daddy is fine, see?”
Whack.
Whack.
“Stop it,” Connor mumbled behind his hand.
