7. August

Chapter 7

August

“ T he bed wetting’s nothing to worry about,” AJ’s sister, Abbey, assured him over the marginally distorted phone line. “She’s only five.”

“But,” AJ scrubbed a hand over his face and looked across the room to where his daughter was happily playing with the dolls Bailey had brought her. More had appeared over the past week, sneaking into his office and his house as though the plastic demons were multiplying on their own. It was actually quite sweet the way the younger man was spoiling his daughter. “I Googled and it said it’s not as common for girls as boys at her age.”

“Yeah, well, that doesn’t mean it’s not still normal at that age,” Abbey debated gently. It was why he’d reached out to her: he could always rely on her to stay calm and rational. Despite the eight years between them, she was the sibling he was closest to. She was kind of a second mum to him, not that he would ever say as much out loud. He didn’t need the bollocking that confession would earn him. “Besides, she’s going through a lot right now. She might not be outwardly stressing, but I’d bet fifty quid that all of that upheaval and change of routine is causing the accidents.” She lowered her voice to almost a whisper. “I wet the bed a couple of times when I was doing my A-Levels.”

He rolled his eyes, even though she couldn’t see him. “You were also, what, six months pregnant at the time?”

He’d already been at the Academy on scholarship when his then seventeen-year-old sister had announced her unplanned pregnancy. According to her, he had missed months of their mother’s fussing and their dad’s glowering at any of the neighbours who dared act as though it was some sort of scandal. He really did have the best family ever.

Jesus, that meant Ruth —named after her grandmother and AJ’s mother— was almost thirty now.

Older than Bailey, even.

Why did that thought suddenly make him uncomfortable?

“Exactly. All that stress and worry shows up in weird ways. Bodies suck, Age.”

Snorting, AJ realised he was fighting a losing battle. “Fine. So, you’re saying I shouldn’t worry, then?”

After the tenth consecutive night of his daughter waking him up with wet pyjamas and sheets, he had to admit that he was getting a bit concerned. Hence, he had taken to Googling, which had led him to online parenting forums and dear God he hoped he wouldn’t have half the trouble that some of those people had!

“No, you shouldn’t worry. It’ll come good when she’s settled, I promise.”

“Fuck, I hope so. The lack of sleep’s knocking us both about.”

Abbey made a sound of commiseration. “It’s been a long time, but I remember those days. It does get easier, Age. I promise.”

A lump lodged itself at the back of his throat and his eyes burned with tears he didn’t want to shed. Fuck, but he could use one of his big sister’s hugs. “You sure you and Johnno don’t want to come here for Christmas? I can still pay for the flights, and there’s more than enough space in my house.”

“He can’t get the time off work,” she said in a tone that suggested she was sick of repeating herself, “and Ruth’s due to pop any day now.”

“Fuck, I forgot.” A new wave of guilt swept over him. He’d forgotten that his niece was about to become a mum. Christ, that meant he’d be someone’s Great Uncle.

Ugh. Might as well get myself some cardigans and change my name to Algernon.

“You have had a lot going on the past six or so months. You get a pass on this one. Besides,” he could hear his sister’s smirk in her words, “you funded the nursery.”

Being able to provide luxuries to his working-class family had always been a point of pride, but it didn’t stop him from playing along. “Oh, I did, did I?”

“Yeah. And you bought her the top-of-the-line pram she was after. You’re her favourite uncle for sure.”

He chuckled. “Don’t you dare let Freddy hear you say that.”

“I like how competitive he gets.”

And, just like that, his melancholy evaporated as he laughed loudly at his sister’s antics.

Catching movement in the doorway from the corner of his eye, he turned to find Bailey leaning against the door jam, his hair wet from having just showered post-training. It hung in limp, long strands that reached his shoulders, darkened by the water which also dripped and left watermarks down the front of his soft T-shirt.

For the briefest moment, AJ could envision what his team captain had looked like, standing beneath the likely cool spray of the water, given the summer heat and long training session they’d endured. The image in his head was gone in a blink, but echoes of smooth, tanned skin sluiced with water teased at his subconscious.

What the ever-loving fuck was that about?

Clearing his throat, he turned his attention back to the phone at his ear and gestured vaguely for Bailey to go say hello to Ava, who had yet to notice him. His daughter had blown past merely befriending the striker and now idolised the man, insisting on watching every training session intently. It was cute…and it didn’t hurt that Bailey seemed just as taken by Ava, joyfully hanging back after training to kick a ball around with her, or to sit and draw and discuss cartoons while AJ dealt with administrative tasks.

“…anyway, I’ve got to go,” he told his sister, unable to tear his gaze away from Bailey. He watched as the younger man sat down easily on the floor beside his daughter, crossing his legs and leaning over to join in her imaginary play. He picked up a doll and, though AJ couldn’t hear what he said, he imagined it was in Bailey’s preferred falsetto for doll play. Ava’s answering giggle was almost raucous and that made AJ smile.

“—won’t you?” Abbey asked, and he realised he hadn’t listened to her at all.

“Sorry, what?”

“I said give that darling niece of mine a hug for me, won’t you?” she repeated, and he nodded, distracted again by the scene in the corner of his office.

“I will. Love you,” AJ finished up, and Bailey turned his head to look his way with an eyebrow raised. After he pressed the little red ‘end call’ button on his screen, AJ felt the inexplicable need to explain, “My sister.”

Bailey’s expression went from something AJ couldn’t quite interpret to something more relaxed and understanding. “Ah. Gotcha.” He cocked his head. “Do you guys wanna join me for dinner tonight? My shout.”

“You’re still on your mid-season meal plan,” AJ reminded him, narrowing his eyes. “No cheat days.”

Bailey smirked and nodded. “There’s this awesome vegan place in Broadbeach that is totally nutritionist approved.”

AJ wanted to groan. Vegan. Shoot me now.

“Daddy,” Ava queried in her high-pitched little voice, “what’s vee-gun?”

“It’s a magic kind of cooking that turns veggies into delicious treats,” Bailey answered, likely sensing (correctly so) that AJ’s response might be less enthusiastic.

Ava still scrunched up her nose. “Ick. I hate veggies.”

“Not true. I saw you munching on a carrot just yesterday,” Bailey argued. “And you scarfed down that mashed potato the other night, too.”

She pouted. “Yeah, well, Daddy said I couldn’t have pudding if I didn’t eat my veggies. I don’t like them.”

“C’mon, princess,” Bailey cajoled, and AJ wondered which of the two was going to win this battle of wills, “can’t you at least try my new favourite restaurant before declaring that you hate everything in it?”

Ava was silent for a moment before she narrowed her eyes at Bailey. “It’s really your favourite?”

He nodded. “It is. And you don’t think I’d like it if it was gross, do you?”

Ava bit her lip, clearly flummoxed by the logic. “But…it’s veggies?”

“It’s veggies that don’t taste like veggies,” Bailey explained in a stage whisper. “Like magic.”

“I like magic!” Ava sounded less distrustful and more excited now. She smiled up at her idol. “Santa’s magic. That’s how he knows I’ve moved here now. Isn’t it, Daddy?”

For his part, AJ smiled and nodded, while internally groaning at the reminder of Christmas inching ever closer. He’d ordered a few presents online, but still hadn’t considered decorating or even getting a tree…and that was without starting on the fact that the most common Christmas trees in Australia were made of plastic.

Ugh.

Alright, so fake trees were becoming increasingly popular back home, too, but he had always had a real tree, and it felt like sacrilege to buy a plastic one.

Ava continued to babble about the presents she had asked Santa for (the letter in question had been carefully hidden in an album of mementos AJ’s mum had suggested he should keep) and AJ tuned her out as he ran through his growing mental list of things he needed to organise.

Barely a month earlier, his biggest issue had been the God-awful heat. Now it was a little girl’s continued wellbeing and happiness.

“So,” Bailey prompted, eyeing him with what could only be described as concern, “dinner?”

AJ looked at his watch and nodded. It wasn’t as though he was going to get any more work done that evening. “Dinner.”