Groaning, I turned off the television and hoisted myself out of the ancient and sunken red couch. It was a hideous thing, really, but it was a family heirloom. The unsightly piece of furniture was passed on whenever the next in line graduated from living at home to their own apartment, and I only had so much time before Timmy finished college and I could invest in a brand new couch! I stretched my sore back muscles, an unavoidable consequence of spending two sick days on the support-less sofa with a tissue in one hand and the remote in the other. I shuffled over to the kitchenette, flicked on the electric kettle, and prepared a new tea bag and mug. Catching my reflection in the microwave, I tried to tidy the rat's nest of hair on top of my head.
The beep of the kettle, followed by a heavy knock on the door interrupted my futile attempts to fix my hair. "Just a second, Deb!" I shouted as I poured the scalding water into a chipped mug I had stolen from my parents' house. "Shit!" I cursed as some of the scorching liquid sloshed onto my hand as I hustled over to the door, unlocked it, and yanked it open.
Jesus Christ. He was hot. And he was definitely not Deb. No, no, no, definitely not Deb.
She
did not have such a pleasurable and immediate effect on my libido.
He,
on the other hand, stood over six feet, with broad shoulders and a defined chest. Shaggy dark brown hair poked out from a worn and faded Red Sox hat. Warm, brown eyes smiled at me as his lips quirked into a little grin. A dozen cocoons that had been dormant for what seemed like eons broke open and set the butterflies free to dance. I immediately became acutely aware that my hair was flying in every direction, my nose was red and raw and chapped from using thousands of tissues over the past two days. I was braless and wearing nothing but a long and baggy, bleach stained Phish t-shirt, and as luck would have it, I'd found my retainer case a few hours earlier hidden deep in the couch and had felt inclined to put it on.
"Happy 50
th
!" he announced with a flash of perfectly straight, retainer free teeth.
I blinked. I had no idea what he was talking about, but the sound of his voice caused certain juices to flow. "Excuse me?"
He pointed to my battered old mug with a bit of an embarrassed smile. "Sorry, bad joke." I glanced down at the mug that I'd swiped from the house I'd grown up in. We'd given it to my Dad twelve years back and it had a big number 50 wearing a birthday hat over the 5 and balloons tied to the zero. He extended a hand. "I'm Brad, and this is Maisy." It was only then that I realized a little girl, around 4 or 5 years old with a mop of Shirley Temple curls, hung onto his left hand.
Damn it, was this hottie a dad? They had the same eyes and hair color, but he didn't look
that
much older than me. Maybe 27? How many 27 year olds had 4 year old daughters? Then again, my mother had Charlie at 23. But that was 35 years ago! Realizing I'd left him hanging, I snapped out of my rambling thoughts and was about to shake his hand when I pulled it back at the last minute. "Sorry, I'm kinda sick." God, but I wanted to shake his hand, I just wanted to touch him. "I'm Jackie." I embarrassingly had no choice but to follow my introduction with a very rude and strong sniffle to prevent snot from dripping down my souvenir T from the show at Great Woods in Fall 2000. Considering that half the blood in my veins is Murphy, it shouldn't have come as a surprise to me that for the first time in 48 hours, there wasn't a Kleenex within arm reach.
"That doesn't sound good. Have you ever tried airborne?"
"Ask deh lady alweady Uncle Brad!" Maisy impatiently tugged at his hand. Thank god, she was only his niece and not a love child.
"Oh, right. So, my sister is out for the night, and I'm taking care of Maze-dog here," He ruffled her hair with his free hand and she giggled. "And we thought that we'd make her a birthday cake, seeing as her birthday is in 4 months and 3 and a half weeks and all." He said this in a perfectly serious tone, but there was a playful glint in his eye I couldn't help but notice.
"It's huh un-burfday, remembuh?" Maisy sounded quite exasperated with her Uncle, and shot him another impatient look.
"I remember, I remember." He leaned towards me and cupped his right hand backwards against the left side of his mouth. "We're in the middle of an
Alice in Wonderland
phase." Brad shot me another grin and despite my clogged sinuses I caught a hint of soap mixed with scent I could only define as masculine. I grinned before I could stop myself from flashing him my metal mouth. The Disney classic had been one of my favorites as a kid too.
"We were all ready to start baking when
someone
wanted to find out if eggs could bounce." Maisy sheepishly looked at the floor and shuffled her pink footie pajama clad feet. "I was hoping to find someone on the floor who could spare an egg before we got all bundled up and head out to the store. You're the last door in this corridor, you're the first to answer, and you're our last hope!" Brad begged overdramatically falling to his knees, and Maisy squealed in delight, jumping on his back.
He was too cute. I laughed, "Let me go check the fridge." I opened my refrigerator and pushed a few tupperwares aside to grab the egg carton. "You're in luck! I only have a few left." I called out shutting the door behind me. I heard Brad's voice reply, but couldn't catch the words. As I rounded the corner I realized it was because he wasn't answering me. He was off his knees, carrying Maisy in a piggy back style, smiling down at a 5 foot 5 beauty. Debbie had showed up.
Damn. Debbie. Debbie was my energetic, fun loving,
gorgeous
sister. And everyone with a Y chromosome immediately fell in love with her. She had long light brown hair that naturally fell in loose curls, bright blue eyes, and perfectly shaped eyebrows. People often told me we looked alike. I didn't see it though. Yes, our hair was a similar length, always had been, but where her hair fell perfectly, mine was a jumble of loose curls and waves covered in a thick layer of frizz, and mine was so dark you could call it black. We had similarly shaped eyebrows, but where she was born with them, I had to spend hours plucking away at a rebellious unibrow. As for our eyes, they were similarly set and shaped, but mine were a dull brown. No, I didn't see it at all. She woke up every morning a natural beauty, and I could look good after a two hour grooming session, complete with colored contacts.
Despite her better luck during her dip in the gene pool, I loved her to death -- that is, when I didn't suspect her of wrapping my neighbor's cute little brother around her finger. He was the first guy I had felt any attraction to in over a year! "Hi Deb. This is Brad and Maisy. Brad, Maisy, this is my big sister Debbie."
Debbie laughed. "I'm not
that
big, Jacks. Oh perfect! You have an egg for them! What kind of cake are you making? Chocolate, I hope." She snatched an egg from the carton and handed it to Brad with a flirtatious wink.
"Uh, actually, vanilla." Brad awkwardly accepted the egg while making sure Maisy didn't slip down his back.
"Wiff choc'lit fwosting and spwinkles." That kid needed some serious speech therapy.
"Oh, boo. I was going to ask you to bring me a piece, but I can't stand vanilla cake. Well, you two have fun!" With that Debbie patted Maisy on the head, walked past me and headed straight for the couch.
Brad smiled back at me over his shoulder as he headed down the hall. "Thanks for the egg! I hope you feel better soon!" I waved goodbye, shut the door, and sighed. I relived my brief conversation with Brad and shook my head. It was always after the fact that I came up with witty remarks and realized where I could have inserted a flirty gesture. Not that either would have helped much considering my physical appearance was in such a state of disarray. And even if he had knocked on a good day, I couldn't expect him to flirt with me, come in for tea, engage in a hot make out session, and get my number, all while keeping an eye on his niece.
