The first week of summer was hitting Paul's girls.
Hard.
Staying up late and sleeping deep into the morning was a definite.
Well, for two of his kids.
"Daddy will make you breakfast," Steph groaned against her pillow when their seven year old came in at six to find out just why it was taking so long for everyone to get up. Her and Bluto, their Mastiff, had been up forever! Err, well, he'd been up since she woke him up, but same thing. "I'm sick."
"You're not sick," Paul groaned as he laid on his back, an arm laid over his eyes. Murphy was there, sitting on her knees, on the end of their bed, and not going away for anything. "You're tired."
"Sick and tired."
"What's wrong with you?"
"My head hurts."
"Because you're tired!"
"What difference does it make?" Steph still wouldn't lift her head up from her pillow. "You know you're going to go do it, so just do it."
Murphy was still sitting there, watching them with interest at their feet, and whispered then, "Are you fighting?"
"No." Paul let his arm fall then as he sat up. "We're not."
"Because you're gonna do what Mommy says?"
"No," he grumbled over Steph's giggle. "And if you're well enough to laugh, Stephanie, you're well enough to get up and make your daughter some breakfast."
"So are you. And I went to bed way later than you."
"You were up playing on your phone! Not even working. Just watching some stupid show-"
"It was compelling."
"And you're not sick."
"Then why are you getting up to do what I asked?"
"Because," he carped as Murphy jumped off the bed to follow him, "I know that it'll serve me better in the long run just to do it."
"Good choice."
Bluto had come into the room with Murphy and, when his daddy got up, the dog jumped up to take his spot. Err, well, he tried to jump. He was only getting older, the dog was, and Paul had to hold up so that he could lift Bluto's back end up onto the bed for him.
"There's Mommy's baby," Steph cooed, actually lifting her head for that and reaching over to scratch at his ears as the Mastiff collapsed into Paul's half to he bed. "Aren't you a big boy?"
"She's well enough to play with the dog," Paul grumbled under his breath as he and his daughter left the room after he'd slipped on some shorts over his boxers. "But not make you breakfast. But me? Me, I'm getting up to go make you something to eat, Murph. Now tell me who you like the best? Huh?"
"I like myself the best."
Glancing down at her in the hall of the still darkened house, he considered this before saying, "Yeah. I totally get why."
She nodded as well. "But other than that...mmm…I really like Bluto."
"Of course."
"And Rora."
"Uh-huh."
"Then Mommy."
"Hey-"
"And then Vaughn."
Narrowing his eyes finally, he said, "You think your funny, don't you, little girl? Huh?"
With a giggle, she ran away from him then and to the stairs, beating the still somewhat groggy man down them easily.
"Hurry, Daddy."
"Shhh. Don't wake the entire house. Your sisters are probably gonna sleep the day away."
"Not me." He caught her in the kitchen, where she'd come to a complete stop in the darkened room. "There's so much to do!"
"Mmmm," he grunted, not even flipping on a light. With the big, glass sliding door in the far end, there was enough light outside that they could see enough to do without burning their eyes out of their sockets for the time being. As he started on some coffee, Paul got out, "So what is it that you want for breakfast, squirt?"
"Cereal."
He almost laughed.
Honest, he did.
"You want," he carped as he turned to glare over at where she was, head in the fridge, pulling out a carton of orange juice, "cereal?"
"Mmmhmm."
"Murphy, you could have made yourself cereal!"
"Shhh, Daddy. Don't wake-"
"I'm gonna get you." Paul frowned over at her as she shut the fridge with a giggle. "Why did you come wake us up? Huh? If you could make your own breakfast?"
"Because I didn't wanna be up alone." She came over to the counter with her juice, standing right beside him. "I wanted both you and Mommy, but just you is okay."
"Only okay, huh?" Still, reaching over, he ruffled her blonde hair, just to get a giggle, before moving to get her a cup out for her drink. "I probably needed to get up anyways."
Nodding, she said, "The more your awake, the more time there is to play! And you don't even gotta worry about going to school or nothing now."
"Well, I haven't worried about that in a long time, and I still do have work to go to, but sure."
"You should get summer vacation too."
"But then you wouldn't have all those fun shows to watch, silly."
"That's okay." She even shrugged. "If you were home to play with. And Mommy could still go to work. And Pop. And everyone else."
"So I'm getting the vacation alone? Just me?"
"Uh-huh."
"That would be called being fired, Murph, and I really don't like the idea of that, no."
She was quite insistent with him that he eat some cereal with her and, too exhausted to fight (and too lazy to make himself anything else), Paul sat at the table with his own bowl of the stuff, yawning as he sliced up a banana to put on his corn flakes.
"Yuck," his daughter remarked around her sugary, colorful own breakfast. "That's nasty, Daddy. You don't eat cereal right."
"I eat it like an adult."
"A nasty adult."
"Your mom eats corn flakes."
"Yeah, but she puts sugar on them. I see her."
"Oh, does she?" Paul made a face. "Why am I not surprised?"
"It's Splenda, but thanks for gossiping about your own wife. Jerk."
He made a face, at the sound of her voice, and watched Steph came into the kitchen then, Bluto trotting faithfully at her side.
"What are you doing?" he complained. "You said you wanted to sleep and that I needed to-"
"You forgot the baby," she said as she walked passed the kitchen table and headed to the sliding glass backdoor, Bluto going along. "He needs to use the bathroom, Daddy."
"I didn't forget him. He wanted to stay with you."
"You know that he's just a baby. He-"
"Please," Paul groaned around a spoonful of cereal, "stop talking to me."
"Excuse me?"
"Until the coffee's done," he clarified before he got an earful for that remark. "Please, baby."
"I can talk to Daddy though," Murphy lorded over the woman as Steph made a face over at them. Kicking her feet beneath the table, his middle child sat up real tall and grinned at the man. "Huh, Daddy?"
"Always, princess," he got out, but it sounded a bit pissy.
Still got her to giggle though.
Steph's yawn told them though that she was unimpressed with their cuteness for the day. And, as she turned to leave the room, Paul made a disgusted face at his daughter, just to get some more laughter out of her.
It worked.
Not that Steph stayed gone long. Bluto hadn't even knocked to get back in when she returned, her laptop with her, coming to take her seat at the kitchen table.
"What are you doing, Mommy?" Murphy asked, watching as her mother powered the thing up.
"Mmmm. If I'm up anyways-"
"You don't have to constantly work, you know," Paul grumbled around a spoonful of milk and cornflakes. "Steph."
"And you don't have to talk with your mouth full." She gave him an ungodly grin to match the hour. "Or put your elbows on the table. Hunt."
Grunt.
But he didn't drop his elbows.
Because if she wanted to pretend he was Hunter, fine; Hunter did whatever the fuck he wanted.
That concept was one of the only things that kept Paul sane sometimes. That, if he wanted, he could go play Hunter and just do whatever the fuck he wanted. Not play dress up or have tea parties or take out the damn trash.
Whatever he wanted.
"There's your smile," Steph giggled, getting Murphy to do the same. "Baby"
It fell right back into a mug though as Paul gave his wife a glare before saying, "Don't ruin our nice morning."
"Daddy's so cute. Isn't he, Murph?"
Ugh. Girls.
Nodding, their middle child sat up real tall before saying, "What are you working on, Mommy?"
"Oh, nothing, really," Stephanie said with a shake of her head. "I just have to look over some of the stuff that I wrote up for my book and send it to my-"
"Ghostwriter," her husband interceded. "You know, the person that's actually writing Mommy's book."
"Paul-"
"Is that not what you were gonna say? Oh, my bad."
Making a face over at him, she asked, "What did I do to you?"
"You made me get up to get Murphy breakfast even though you were getting up anyways."
"Maybe I just wanted the three of us to eat together." She gave him look. "When's the last time you, me, and Murphy ever did anything just the three of us? No Vaughn or Rora? Hmmm?"
"Hey, yeah." Murphy turned her heavy eyes onto her father then. "When, Daddy?"
"Don't let her fool you, Murph. You're just an innocent pawn." He shook his head. "Your mother's just after me for some reason or another."
"Am not." When Murphy turned her accusatory eyes back on the woman, Steph said, "I'm always telling him that the three of us should spend more alone time together."
"Really?"
"Mmhmm."
"We do plenty, just the three of us." Paul was pretty sure. He tried, anyways, to spend time with each girl separately. Whether or not Steph was included in that really depended on his wife's schedule, which was as stacked as his. They could hardly even catch a lunch together, much less balance in some special time with each child at the same time. "Not that long ago, all three of us went out to lunch. Just us."
"Babe, that was months ago."
Narrowing his eyes at Stephanie, he said, "Fine. Then we're having breakfast right now. Isn't this nice, Murphy? Aren't you happy? And feeling loved?"
With a quick nod of her head, she said, "'cept Mommy isn't eating."
"Oh, you're right. Daddy hasn't gotten up to make me-"
"Cereal? I have to get up to make you cereal, Steph?" he asked, more annoyed with the concept than he had been, even, when Murphy woke him up to do so. "Are you serious?"
"It'd only be courteous, Daddy," his wife told him, face lit up blue as her laptop loaded up. "Don't you think?"
Breathing heavily through his nose, the man got to his feet before grumbling, "My cereal better not get soggy."
"Then hurry up, silly."
Sigh.
He got coffee too, for the both of them, being rewarded with a kiss from Steph to the cheek for both the mug and the bowl. Paul was still sticking with his gnarled scowl though.
"Daddy takes real good care of us, huh?" Steph told her daughter as she sat her coffee and bowl of cereal to the side as she typed something into her computer. "Murphy?"
"Yep!" She beamed at her father and he felt his glare dissolve, just a tad. "He still eats his cereal weird."
"I do not. I eat it like an adul-"
He stopped then, suddenly, as they heard the sound of one of the doors upstairs opening and then closing. Just as quickly, footsteps carried down the stairs and Paul made a face at Murphy, knowing it was her far too loud voice that had caused this.
"It's time for breakfast?"
"No," Paul grumbled as Vaughn came rushing into the room. "And stop that. Why do you have to sit in my lap?"
Because she wanted to. Forcing her way in there after rushing over, Vaughn snuggled right up to her father, burying her face into his chest.
"I'm trying to eat," he grumbled, though he didn't force her to sit in her own chair, like the big girl she was.
Five. She was five. And more than capable of sitting in a chair all on her own. Nearly six.
But…
She was also his last five year old. Ever.
He wasn't letting his bad attitude (exhaustion) ruin the last times he got moments like that.
"I wanna eat," she said, nuzzling her blonde head against him. "Daddy."
"Then go make yourself a bowl."
"Daddy-"
"Fine! You guys are really starting to get on my nerves though. You think that I just do everything for you."
"Don't you?" Murphy asked as he sat Vaughn on the ground and shoved up to go get her a bowl of cereal as well. "Daddy?"
"Daddy's just grumpy, sweetie," Steph said with a shake of her head as Vaughn stood there, by Paul's chair at the head of the six seat kitchen table, waiting for him to come back. "You know how babies are when they don't get their eight hours."
"Shuddup," he grumbled as he got the milk out of the fridge once more as well as the juice. "Steph."
He refilled Murphy's cup of juice as well before bringing Vaughn her bowl of cereal and cup of the stuff. When he handed it to her though, she only continued to stand there, by his chair, instead of going to sit in hers. With a shrug, Paul plopped back down.
"Vaughn-"
"I wanna sit in your lap, Daddy." She sat her juice and bowl next to his mug and own cereal. "And eat."
"But then I can't eat."
Stephanie, who was typing more than eating, glancing over from her end of the table. "Your cereal's going to get soggy, babe, if you keep-"
"Do not," he warned lowly as his wife giggled, "start, Stephanie."
"Mommy's writing about her book," Murphy told her younger sister with a grin as the girl literally ate with both her elbows out at angles, making it even harder for Paul to get at his own bowl of cereal which, by the way, she'd pushed to the side a bit for her own. Sigh. "Vaughn. It's gonna have ghosts in it."
"What?"
"See what you do?" Stephanie complained to Paul, but he wouldn't look at her again.
"What? Take care of my women quite efficiently?"
"Cause problems."
"By taking care of my women efficiently?"
"Daddy, how come you put a banana in your cereal?" Vaughn was not one to be ignored. "Huh?"
"I have does this for my entire life. For your entire lives. So why are you both suddenly so interested in- Vaughn, stop it!"
But it was too late. His youngest reached out and literally put her nasty little fingers in his bowl of cereal and fished out a slice of banana to stick in her own mouth.
"Mmmm." She tilted her head back to grin up at him. "I like it, Daddy. You should put one in my cereal."
"Vaughn, you put your filthy fingers in my food," he grumbled as her face fell, noting his annoyed tone. "That's not okay. That's rude. You-"
"I'm not filthy!"
"Did you wash your hands before you came downstairs?"
"I didn't need to."
"Vaughn-"
"Oh, Paul, don't be a big baby." Stephanie was looking around her laptop at him again. "You're just in a bad mood. Go back to bed if you're going to be-"
"She stuck her hand in my cereal! I have a right to be-"
"Fine!" Vaughn shoved out of his lap them, arms crossed over her chest as she glared at him. "I won't sit with you. Sorry."
"That's not what I'm even mad about." At the moment. Reaching out, he snatched her back up and placed her back in his lap, though she only turned her little blonde head from him. "Just...you shouldn't touch people's things without asking."
"And you should wash your hands more," Stephanie offered up in a bit of solidarity with her husband.
Because it was true.
"Here." Paul was reaching for the center of the table then, for a banana. "I'll put some in your cereal too. If you're really sorry for-"
"Yes!" Reluctantly, her arms fell and she leaned back against her father's chest. Then, humming a bit, she said, "Chop it up real big, okay, Daddy?"
Grunt.
He made a face too, when Murphy kept staring over at him, but she only giggled, since she wasn't the one that had put him in the bad mood (so she thought; if she hadn't woken up early, none of what was happening would be going on).
Vaughn was happily eating her own cereal again while Paul took a test sip of his coffee, to see if it was cool enough yet for consumption when, just like that, there was another door opening and closing upstairs.
"Why are you all eating without me?"
Ugh.
Letting out a deep groan, Paul got to his feet, setting Vaughn back in his chair on her own then as Aurora appeared there in the doorway to the kitchen.
"Sit down," he grumbled as he went to get her food ready as well, to the giggles of the others at the table. "What type of cereal do you-"
"I can get my own-"
"Sit down." He decided for her then, grabbing one of the boxes. "Aurora."
She looked to her mother, but Steph was still laughing at him and with a shake of her head, motioned her daughter over to her typical seat at the table.
"He's just grumpy," Stephanie told their oldest softly though she was only staring over at her father in slight shock as, typically, he wasn't nearly as concise in tone with them. "Murphy woke us up early."
"I got you up on time," the blonde defended herself with a frown. "You're all just lazy."
Paul was coming over then, to slam a cup of orange juice and a bowl of cereal in front of Aurora. When she glanced up at him though, he did lean down to press a kiss to her forehead because he was being a bit dramatic, he knew deep down, and she was the last one out of his house of girls that had done anything to him that day, or any day, normally.
Just as he was going to lift up Vaughn though, to reclaim his seat once more, Bluto was knocking at the back door to be let in and, ugh, he had to go get him too.
"There," Paul grubled when he was finally able to take a seat once more. "Now can Daddy please eat breakfast? No one needs anything else?"
When he was rewarded with silence, the man let out a long breath before picking up his coffee mug.
Then it happened.
"Stephanie...are you crying?"
"N-No!"
His wife started tearing up.
"What's wrong, Mommy?" Aurora, who sat to the right of Steph, frowned up at the woman, reaching over to pat at her arm. "Are you okay?"
Sniffling a bit, Steph sat back from her laptop and, even though she was sniveling, actually smiled a pretty real grin. At the sight of it, Paul rolled his eyes and stopped caring.
His daughter, however, weren't as easy to deflect.
"Are you sad because Bluto's sittin' next to us and not you?" Murphy asked as, for once, the dog laid under that half the table, at Paul's feet and technically Murph's too, as her chair was on his right. "It's just because he loves me more than anyone and everyone."
"That's not true." Vaughn sat up taller in Paul's lap, giving him a face full of blonde hair. They were really starting to irritate him. "Bluto likes me the best!"
"No!"
"Yes, he does! He-"
"It doesn't have to do with Bluto," Steph interrupted their bickering, shaking her head a bit at each of her daughters though, honestly, only Aurora was truly interested in her tearful nature at that point. "It's just… I'm going over what I'm about to send to-"
"The person that's writing your entire book for you, really, yes, we know," Paul said and, damn, if their table was smaller, Steph would have probably kicked him were she able to reach him. "No need to tell us."
"Shut up." And she even rolled her eyes, looking more annoyed then than sad. "Your book was, like, ninety percent pictures."
"Seventy. At most."
"I was tearing up, girls," she told them loudly then, as if to put an effective end to her banter with her husband, "because I was reading over what I wrote about how Daddy proposed to me and it just got me emotional."
"Ew, Daddy, you proposed? Like a prince?" Murphy made a face over at him. "With a carriage and kneeling and a horse and-"
"Proposing just means that I asked her to marry me, squirt." Paul made a face. "And yeah, lucky for you guys, I made that mistake."
"You're about to get it." Steph's tears were all but gone then as only Aurora giggled for her father, the other two missing the joke. "Seriously, Paul."
"Why did it make you cry, Mommy?" Vaughn wasn't grasping that part at all. "If you weren't sad?"
"Because I was...reflective. I am reflective, I mean. When I was writing it up, last night, I was too, but sitting here with you three and...him," she explained, tossing out the later word with a bit of distaste for the moment, though Paul grinned regardless, "it just makes me realize how far we've come."
"We've come so far." Wrapping his free arm around Vaughn's middle, he snuggled her back up to him, eliciting a giggle. "At one time, Mommy would have kicked me out of the kitchen by now."
"You play the submissive husband too well," his wife said with an eye roll. "Especially knowing you never do what I want."
"I got up and made you all breakfast, didn't I?"
"Does cereal count as making something now?"
"It sure does when you do it."
"You shouldn't fight with Mommy when she's cryin', Daddy," Murphy said with a frown. "Even if it's not sad tears, they're still tears."
"Not fighting with me at all would be nice too," Steph remarked.
"Can I read it?" Aurora asked as she craned her neck around her mother's laptop, just to see the word document she had up. "Mommy?"
"I can read it to all of you, if you want."
Paul had no poised on his tongue too, so ready for it to tumble out.
It wasn't fair.
He had work in a few hours, had been robbed of sleep, had to make all the girls cereal, got his tarnished by the grubby fingers of his youngest, and now he had to hear a sappy tale that, granted, while he was in, he really didn't care to have to rehash so early in the morning (especially knowing Steph would bring it up again, many times, now that it was fresh on her mind).
There was only so much as the man of the house that Paul was supposed to have to take.
But…
As Murph said, even happy tears were still tears.
"A short version, huh?" Paul asked over the cries of yes from his daughters.
Stephanie, misunderstanding him, made a face across the table. "Yeah, like I'm including the long version in the book, Paul."
He blinked. Then he made a face.
"I didn't mean… Like I would think I had to tell you not to tell the girls about that!"
Curious now, they all looked to their father as Aurora asked, "What's the long version?"
He frowned over at Steph as he said, "The part where Daddy unwittingly signs his life away to the wicked family of McMahons and-"
"Paul-"
"It's just all the extra stuff," he told his daughters as he looked down at each of them in turn, sounding as sincere as possible. "Like kissin' and stuff."
"Gross." Murphy even made a face as Vaughn only giggled and Aurora went back to trying to see the laptop for herself.
"How's that gross?" Paul frowned over at his middle daughter. "You're not careful, I'll go over there and kiss you right now."
"No!"
"Don't tempt me."
Steph giggled again, finally, but it was around a sniffle as she really was emotional, Paul knew, because his woman was, well, a woman about those sorts of thing. She felt everything so strongly.
"Go on and tell them then," Paul ordered his wife as he moved to finally finish his by then definitely soggy cereal. "Steph. About how great of a guy I am and-"
"Daddy, you're dripping on me!" Vaughn carped as some milk dribbled down his spoon and into her hair. He only shrugged though.
"That's the price of sitting in Daddy's lap," he told her. "You know that. How come you think Rora stopped?"
Because she was a big girl and didn't like those sorts of childish things such as her younger sisters did.
Or at least that's what she liked to say.
Still, she nodded morosely over at Vaughn who took to folding her hands atop her head, as if to protect her hair. Which was a good thing as now, knowing that was annoying her, the girl's father was actually purposely holding the spoon over her head long enough for it to drip, much to the amusement of his middle and oldest daughter.
He was tired, fine, and would be definitely when he had to go into the office later, but… The chance to spend time with his girls, all of his girls, was always welcomed.
It just took Paul a bit to get out of grumpy mode to realize it.
"Anyways," Stephanie started then as they sat there, in the still light-less kitchen, though the by then slowly rising sun gave them more than enough light to see by. "Since Daddy's such a romantic when he wants to be, it was Valentine's Day of 2003..."
This was a request for how back in either the June or July book q&a thing, Steph said she teared up or something, over the engagement story. I forgot to include her crying during that super long on that I did about her book, so it needed a bit of a different plot to be its own separate thing and the concept of Paul having to get up for each new arrival, to make their breakfast (perhaps more agonizingly so, just cereal) won out.
