He was useless, truly, down near the lake.
Paul didn't typically deal with the girls when they were crying over silliness. That was their mother's deal. When they were hurt or something, truly upset about something, then he'd try to be a comfort to them, but he usually wasn't for his oldest and youngest. Aurora typically saw crying in front of him as something that he'd look down on her for and would only try to force herself to stop, no matter what it was that was causing the problem, even if she was crying over being wounded or something, and that was no good. Then Vaughn, well, he just never knew what it was that it took to calm her down. At all. She was definitely his 'princess' out of the three of them and, by proxy, his attempts at fixing her tears usually resulted in more, as she'd only turn into an even bigger baby around him.
Murphy though, Paul knew about.
Which is why he left Vaughn to the others and started the short trek back up to the house, to at least attempt to tackle the side of the problem he had a shot at fixing.
Granted, not a big one, but still.
She was up on the porch, seated on the steps. The porch was rather grand (Steph had taken Levesque as her name, of course, but Paul had also married into the McMahon lifestyle) and the steps were broken up into sets. There were five, then a little landing, then five more, another landing, and finally a set that led down to the ground. Murphy was seated on the top set and Linda was before her, on the landing, bent over some to stare down at her middle granddaughter.
Murphy was pouting, in that way that she did when she was upset, where there were some tears, but not many, and her face was red, but her eyes were set in a deep glare, which at the moment was directed at her grandmother. Arms crossed over her chest, Paul could hear her voice more than Linda's as he approached, but his mind was so jumbled that her words were mostly useless.
"Hey," he called out as he came closer to the bottom set of steps. He wasn't sure what he was going to say or who he was going to say it to, but the one thing that he did know was that Murphy should not be talking to her grandmother the way that she was and that he should probably be putting an end to it.
But he didn't say anymore, even as Murphy and Linda both stared down at him. Instead, Paul was focusing then on the actual porch, above him, instead of his daughter and mother-in-law, finding then where Aurora had gotten off to.
She was leaning over the porch railing then, at the sound of his voice, and staring down at him as he called out. Andre was up there with her, his head pressed up against the bars of the railing, trying desperately to squeeze it through there like he had been able to do, less than a year ago, when he was much smaller. But he was a big dog then, whether he wanted to believe it or not.
Paul's eyes weren't on the canine, however, and remained up on his oldest daughter's as they both watched one another, as if waiting for something. When he said nothing more though, Aurora pushed back from the porch railing and went off, further back onto the structure until he couldn't see her. It was only once he heard the backdoor slide open and shut that he knew she'd gone off into the house.
"I didn't do anything wrong, Daddy." Murphy was forcing his attention back to her then, quite effectively. "It's not fair!"
With a sigh, Paul headed up the steps then, to stand on the landing with his mother-in-law. To his daughter, he said, "Murphy, Mommy was actually at your birthday party. She...couldn't be at Vaughn's. Do you honestly think that you don't have it better?"
She wasn't one for reasoning though. Still just sitting there, she only glared up at the man. "I don't care! Why did she pick out something for Vaughn and not me?"
"Murphy," Linda tsked as she stood straight once more. "You know that Stephanie didn't-"
"It's not," she continued to insist, "fair!"
The backdoor opened again then before either of the adults could respond and Aurora came back out, something in her hand.
"Here." She came to stand behind Murphy and, avoiding the adult's eyes, held out the plate she was holding to her younger sister. "Just eat this and feel better."
It was cake.
Err, well, part of it.
The majority of the cake was down at the lake, but there was a second cake, a strawberry one, in the house that hadn't been brought down. Paul's mother had brought it as backup, as there were so many of them in the house, in case there wasn't enough of Vaughn's birthday cake.
Knowing his family, there wouldn't be.
Sniffling, Murphy reached for the cake, Aurora having to shove Andre away when he tried to stick his snout in it, before the oldest of the Levesque girls passed her father and grandmother on the landing and walked down the steps, no doubt back to the party.
Then there were three.
Andre whining for some of that cake reminded Paul that, actually, there were four.
Still, Paul was intent on making it three as, while his daughter glared at her cake, he said to mother-in-law, "Thanks, but I think that Murph and I need to...talk alone." Then, slipping his hands into his pockets, he shrugged a bit. "She'll be back down in a minute."
Linda looked to her granddaughter though before asking, "Are you going to be okay?"
No. Paul could tell from the look on Murphy's face this wasn't true. But at the same time, she favored him over all others (which Steph would usually say was imagined and him just believing his own hype, but it was true; maybe not for the other two, but with this one, it was). He might not be able to fix what was wrong, but he'd be better at at least getting her somewhat in a better place over another.
Still, Linda waited until the girl nodded and, with a deep breath, she headed back down the steps, leaving the father and daughter alone.
With Andre.
Who was still pretty insistent that he too deserved some cake.
He was even sitting, having gotten onto the landing with Paul, and staring up at Murphy with his best begging face.
It didn't pan out for him though.
If Paul wasn't there, he might just snatch the cake off the plate and ran for it, but his daddy probably wouldn't take too keenly to that. At all. And Andre definitely didn't wanna piss him off if his mother wasn't around to protect him.
He might yell at him.
The horror.
"Come on." Paul nodded up the stairs. "Let's go inside and talk."
"No."
"Murph-"
"I hate Vaughn."
"You do not."
"Yes, I do! She-"
"She didn't do anything, Murph. I just… I told her that because… It was just to make her feel better." His hands fell out of his pockets and he only stood before her, feeling a bit more defeated by the moment. "And I'm sorry if that made you feel bad, Murph. Mommy just told me to get her the bike; that's all. And I did. That's it. That's all. Alright? You know that she was...right before… And Murph, you can't get upset about things like this. You know that Steph...loved you or whatever it is that you're not feeling right now. I…"
And he was breathing heavily, out of his mouth, but had nothing to say, really, because it was hard enough for him, as it were, to care about things at the moment, but factor in something as stupid as…
He knew why Murphy was upset. Honest. But at the same time, he was struggling with coming up with enough empathy for the situation. It was...draining. Above all else, dealing with all this had been extremely draining. It would be one thing if he had one daughter or two, but three? With vastly different personalities? That were all grieving at the same time, but in different ways that he was just supposed to figure out all on his own?
Giving up, because he was so good at that those days, Paul finally said, "You're right, Murph. It was stupid of me to say. I wasn't thinking. I'm sorry. But Vaughn needed that, okay? So… C'mere."
"No. I-"
"Murphy." There was no affliction in his voice, but still, just the sound of her name got the girl to stop whining. "C'mere."
They walked back up the steps, her in front of him, still holding her plate in her hands which was enough incentive for Andre to follow along. With Murphy so upset though, Paul figured the dog wasn't going anywhere anyways.
He took her into the house and up the stairs to he and Steph's bedroom. Before his wife's sickness, there wouldn't be much there, but in their free time, Steph seemed to enjoy coming to the lake house more. They'd always liked it there and he thought, probably, she just wanted to get away from the house and, honestly, everyone.
Other than him and the girls.
Plus Andre.
"It's just nicer to be here in the spring, you know?" Steph yawned to him once as they sat out on the porch together. "Like, when not so many people are on the lake. It's a lot calmer. You know?"
"Mmmm," Paul hummed, bent over in his chair, staring down at his phone. It was the first week of March and, with Mania in just under a month, there was much to get done. Vince, actually, was pretty pissy at Paul for taking a Friday, Saturday, and Sunday away from Connecticut and Florida, but he really couldn't give less than a shit.
Steph had no treatments that week and wanted to get away for a few days. He wasn't going to tell her no. He'd never tell her no again.
Plus the girls were on their spring break and, after spending the beginning of the week with their mother, were spending the weekend doing their own stuff. Aurora was staying with one of her friends until Sunday, Murphy was with Shane's boys, and Paul's parents had come down to the lake house to pick up Vaughn when Steph and Paul got there and were planning on bringing her back to them before they left.
So they were alone, he and Steph, in the lake house for, oh, one of only, like, twenty times. In a good number of years.
"You can go get on the laptop," Steph offered about then, glancing over at him. His distraction was pretty clear. "Instead of sitting out here on your phone. We're fine on our own."
Right. We. Because her puppy was there with them too, of course, and playing fetch with his mother. A rather unorthodox version of it, as Steph was seated at the table on the porch and would wait for Andre to bring her his favorite rubber ball before tossing over the railing, leaving Andre to have to run up and down the steps each time, but it was worth it. She hadn't felt well enough to play with him in awhile and, while the girls and Paul were all well and good, Andre was definitely Steph's baby.
And there isn't a single baby in the world that wouldn't crave their mother's attention above all others.
Granted, Andre had become a hulk of a baby, but he didn't see himself in this way. He still felt rather tiny actually. Given his growth in less than a year, Paul was sure it would be rather shocking for him, to see just how tiny he once was, but Andre wasn't known for being too bright. He was still struggling with learning to roll over (though, considering Murphy was his typical teacher, Paul frequently cut him some slack). He was mostly just real good at guarding the house.
...When he wasn't snuggled up with his mother and just guarding her and only her instead.
Paul was okay with this, as he frequently felt the need to do the same.
"I don't need the laptop." Glancing over at his wife, he smiled brightly at her. Winter was leaving slowly that year and Steph wasn't taking it well. She was bundled up in one of his big hoodies and had a blanket draped over her shoulders. "I need to be out here with you."
"We'll spend most of the weekend together." Reaching for her mug of coffee, she grinned back at him with a bit of a giggle. Her eyes were brighter than they'd been in awhile and she wasn't nearly as pale. The treatments weren't working, they'd doubted they would to begin with, but Steph looked the best she had since starting them. "You can go do some work if you-"
"Done." He clicked his phone off before pocketing it and sitting up. "I'm here with you. We planned to spend all of the weekend together. I just had to finish up some stupid shit. That's all-"
"I'm not some, like, stupid wife that doesn't understand our business, babe." She took a sip of her coffee before saying, "I know I haven't been much help so far this year, but I still get it. Work first."
"My babies first." He was reaching for his own mug. "Silly."
"I'm your baby?"
"You're my- Andre, knock it off."
The dog was back, with his rubber ball, and wanted someone to throw it. His mother, of course, preferably, but the woman was busy with her coffee and seemed disinterested with the concept then. So he brought it over to his daddy.
Who wasn't appreciative.
At all.
"If we found the girls all places to be," he grumbled to his wife as the dog tried to force his slobber covered toy into the man's hands, "then why couldn't we find this one somewhere?"
"He's a baby, Paul."
"Stephanie."
"I need him." She leaned over to set her coffee mug down before patting a thigh, getting the dog to rush right to her with his toy. And, as she tossed it away, the ball sailing passed the railing, she said, "And he needs me. Besides, he's your first son; you should never want to send him away."
Paul grunted, making a face. "Honestly, Steph, even if we did have a son, I'dda still shipped him off somewhere for this weekend. This is about us. I mean, how many more times are we gonna get this?"
It hung int the air too, Paul recalled, when he said that. The year before, his statement would have meant nothing more than that the two of them were too busy, even, for their daughters at time, much less one another. That March though, in the chill of the slow approaching spring, it meant something completely different.
"Steph," he muttered after a beat passed and she didn't say anything. His wife only shook her head at him though. "I didn't mean-"
"I don't want to talk about...all of this," she said with a bit of a frown. "Or think about it. I want these next few days to just be...normal. Can't we just be normal again? I'm fine, today. And will be tomorrow. And the next day. Alright? So let's not bring it up or whatever. Let's just… I wanna have fun." When her words were met with silence, Steph giggled a bit before adding, "This is, like, the least I've worked since I got out of college. If not before. And being miserable isn't really what I should spend the time period being, is it? Especially on days like today, when I'm not feeling like utter crap."
He let out a long breath, through his nose, before saying, "If we're treating things like normal-"
"Please."
"-then you'd probably be a bit more bitchy over me being on the phone."
Steph rolled her eyes. "Normal in the context of us being on vacation, but only the most important Pay-Per-View being weeks away hanging over our heads."
"But then we'd never be on-"
"Paul."
"I love you." His grin was at its realest as he said this, relaxing once more into his chair. "Steph. And I don't like thinking about that shit anymore than you do. Maybe even less."
"Doubt it."
"So we won't talk about it," he finished. "Any of it. Promise. Okay?"
Which was easier said than done. Being alone together was something the couple craved above all else, but also something that, when they got too much of, could be a bit tiring. Their lives were so intertwined that fresh topics were far and in between typically.
On days when they just laid around and did nothing especially.
Which, of course, is what they did.
It was Friday night and, on the way in, they'd stopped off at the grocery store to get all stocked up, so they were just holed up in the lake house for the next few days. This was perfect for Steph, as though she was feeling just fine, she also was prone to fatigue and didn't find much joy in going out anymore anyways.
"Not when I look like so horrible," was her typical reasoning to her husband, which would get rolls of his eyes at first, then sharp denials of this, and, in the coming months, what would be mostly just soft kisses pressed to her forehead and mumbles of how she was still the hottest woman alive to him.
That night they watched a movie that Paul texted through and then listened to music that Steph slept through.
It was during an interval of her snoozing at the latter event that Paul told her, "When I brought those CDs to listen to in the car, you called me an idiot. Well look now."
"Look at what?" she yawned, head resting against his thigh as she stretched out on their long couch. "We didn't listen to CDs in the car. We listened to music off my phone most of the way."
"Yeah, but we're using them now."
"On a stereo that I could easily hook my phone up to through the auxiliary."
Paul couldn't help it. He snorted, just a bit. "Auxiliary? You're so weird, Steph."
"That's what it's called."
"No one says the full word."
"Well, I do."
"I know." Tapping his thumb on the couch armrest along to the beat Megadeth was providing at the moment, he said, "Besides, you can't tell me that CDs don't sound better than playing music off your damn phone."
"Uh, I can. Because it's literally the same thing."
"It's digital off the phone."
"The CD is just digital music burned to it."
"Nope."
"You sound like Daddy." Steph let out a slow breath. "Paul. He used to, like, go on these rants about cassettes or whatever."
"Quit playing, Steph," he said with a shake of his head. "You know you never owned cassettes."
"What are you talking about?" She seemed offended by that. "Of course I did."
"You definitely missed out on that portion of things."
"Paul, I owned freaking cassette tapes."
"Freakin'?" he mocked. "And besides, you're not old enough to-"
"How old do you think I am?"
Ignoring that, he added, "And you definitely don't remember records."
"Vince had a freaking record player in his damn house until, like 2000. It's probably in some room now, in his stupid mansion."
"Mmmm…don't buy it. CDs were popular by the 90s."
"I wasn't a kid in the 90s."
"Steph."
"I was a teenager, there's a difference."
"Stephanie."
"I was born in the 70s. CDs were popular in the 90s. What exactly do you think happened during that gap?"
"I just can't, like, picture it," he said, grinning then, rather widely. "You walking around, as a kid, with, like, one of those stupid old tape players."
"I had a boy make me a mixtape. Once."
He'd never heard that before and, at the time, only said, "Bullshit."
"It's true. When I was in grade school." Steph yawned again. "And he, like, recorded himself talking over it. Do you remember when people used to do that?"
"I do. You don't."
"Paul."
"I might have graced a few very lucky middle school girls with a compilation of great rock music of my time, sure."
"You did not give them mixtapes with...music you liked...did you?"
"Is that not what I was supposed to do?"
"You are so lucky that you met me later in life," she said. "So lucky."
"I'mma make you a mixtape, baby. To show you what they really are. Because I know you're bullshitting me and have no idea-"
"I born in '76, Paul. I swear I know what stupid cassettes are. I even remember 8 Tracks."
"Now I'm definitely calling bullshit."
"Just because they weren't popular didn't mean that I never saw them. I mean, I did have a brother who is, like, literally, what? A year younger than you?"
"You know, you sure are oddly defensive over this," he remarked about then. "Most wives would love for their husband to, what? Knock a whole damn decade out of their age?"
"I'm defensive," Steph told him, "because I'm right and you're wrong."
"Doth protest too much."
"Fine, then I'm not having this argument anymore." She let out a long breath, he remembered, as well as pushed his hand off her stomach. All playfully, of course. "So-"
"You know what's weird?" he asked then. "Steph?"
"Other than that this is what we're spending our weekend away doing?"
"I, like, can't picture you living before the 90s, listening to cassettes or whatever-"
"Well, I definitely did."
"-but I definitely picture Vince as, like, being alive back before the record player, even," he said. "Like, I see him as this young guy, hanging around, listening to a damn phonograph or whatever."
"Alright, you got me," Steph said with a shake of her head. "Because I have no idea what a...phonograph is."
"It's, like, what was around before the record player. And it would play those little canister things? With the big horn?"
"...Maybe we should stop focusing on how young I am and just how old you are."
"I mean, I wasn't alive when they were popular," he grumbled. "It's just how I picture Vince. Which would make him, like, super old. But what makes it weird is that, in my mind, he also has a child who was, like, five during the 90s, so-"
"That's a very weird statement for you to make, Paul," she retorted. "Considering you were lusting after me in '99. Almost grounds for a restraining order, I think."
"'99?" He scoffed. "Debatable."
"But not $9.99, right?" Steph giggled. "Babe?"
And the hand that she'd pushed away moved then, to flick her in the nose, and they were in such a good place that day, at that time, such a good one, that it almost felt impossible that not six months later, Steph was gone and he was alone.
But that day she was definitely there and definitely still with him. He remembered that moment most, probably, for the next part as his wife shifted then, so that she could sit up on her knees, facing him on their couch.
Her eyes were on him as she said, "I really think you're the last person to be poking other people in the nose, bub."
"Bub?"
Steph literally grabbed his nose between her forefinger and thumb, jerking it a bit. If she wasn't so sick, he might have shoved her away or roughly grabbed her hand. Something. Instead he only breathed heavily through his nose when she let it go, making a face.
But she only grinned back, brightly, her hand falling to rest on the man's chest. Pressing down slightly, she whispered, "So do I have to just come out and ask for it? Or you just going to start trying to get into my pants already?"
And Paul laughed, pretty hard too, Steph trying to bite her lip at the sight and keep from doing the same. There was nothing though that would keep the slight tint she got in her cheeks though. Because she could be as cavalier as she wanted...for a moment or two. Ultimately she was still and always would be a nerd.
"Is that why you took me out here, Steph? Really?" He wagged his eyebrows at her. "To fuck me?"
"Mercilessly, yes."
"Here I was thinking you needed to come out here to clear your head."
"It's a form of it."
"That we couldn't have gotten back at the house?"
"Definitely not."
"That's what I like to hear."
His head was lulled to the side, staring at her, and he knew it'd be over too the soon. He remembered feeling like it was already over. They were only on their first night there and it already felt like they were coming to the end. Steph was in a good mood that day, but he was envisioning her sleeping most of Saturday and then they only had Sunday morning before his parents brought them Vaughn and then they were heading home, to get back to normal.
Err, at least what had become their normal.
"We gotta go upstairs for this?" Paul's smile was softer then, but ever-present. "Steph?"
"Uh, considering the dog is, like, sitting over there watching us-"
"He is a creepy little brat," the man grumbled as Andre, who had been chewing on his toys, had taken to rolling onto his side, over in the corner, so that he could stare at them. "Your son."
"Our son."
And, as she leaned over to press a kiss to his lips, he whispered back against hers in agreement, "Our son."
They left their son though, down there. Paul didn't really remember if they tried to distract him with something first (they typically did when they were busy), but didn't recall having to actually shut the dog out of their room when they went to it.
She must have also put on sheets at sometime when they arrived because he recalled just falling into bed with the woman and pulling her almost immediately down with him.
"You sure you feel okay?" he laughed, just a bit as Steph settled in his lap while he rested flat out on the mattress, blinking up at her. "We don't have to-"
"I'm fine," she said, sounding a bit agitated over him insinuating otherwise. Paul probably would have spoken, had she not moved then to tug the hoodie off. It didn't reveal much, as she had on a sweatshirt beneath, but the man grinned anyways.
Breathing slowly out of his mouth noisily, Paul moved to push up the sweatshirt, just a bit, and rest his hands on her stomach.
"You don't get too warm in all that, babe?" he asked, fingers fanning out across her flesh. "Huh?"
"Not usually," she grinned from over him. "But at this exact moment, I think I am feeling a bit hot, yeah."
"That's too bad. Just let me- Stephanie."
He'd started to move his hands up her sides, but she didn't like this and moved to grasp his hands and shove them back down on the bed. It was easy, after all, when he wasn't playing so rough.
She looked happy, as she stared down into his eyes, but still sick. Paul wondered if he'd ever think that she didn't look sick though and, in August, when he thought about it, he'd realize that he spent those last months with no other version of his wife.
Still, he laid there as she said, "I want you like this. Okay?"
"Like what?" he asked. "Practically nonexistent?"
"Is that what I am when you're the one-"
'Yes."
"Paul."
He was grinning wide again, about ready to mouth off about something, because everything just felt so good that night when, just as he was thinking of a snarky remark, she spoke again.
"I wanna ride you. Like, so hard."
And he couldn't help it. Paul laughed, loudly, at her words. He hadn't grinned that much, that truly, as he had that day in a long time and it was hurting his cheeks just a bit. Steph laughed too, because she always found herself funny, but one of her hands were coming up to rest on one of his cheeks.
"I like you like this," she told him softly as she cupped his cheek. As he blinked, she added, "When you blush."
"I'm not blushing, Steph." It came out as a grumble. "I feel no emotions."
"Other than immense pride in yourself and self-righteousness."
"And a high amount of arrogance."
"I'm serious though," she told him as she leaned over him a bit. "I just… I like that I can still make you that way."
"Always." Reaching up with one of his hands, he grasped the wrist of the one she had resting on his cheek, holding it there. "Steph."
That night only held significance in his mind that day, on Vaughn's birthday, as he led his middle daughter to the closet of he and Steph's bedroom at the lake house after placing the plate of cake on the dresser, for what happened after that though.
"C'mere," he sighed as he took Murphy into the back of the walk-in closet. It was filled with Steph's stuff and Paul wondered then when he was going to be expected to clear it out. "You want something from Mommy?"
Murphy had been a bit nervous, actually, as she'd feared that she might be getting in trouble. Serious trouble. Even though she felt justified in her anger, she also knew that she'd mouthed off to her grandmother, yelled at her sister, and kind of sort of ruined the party.
Under normal circumstances, he'd have marched her upstairs and left her in her room for the day with no toys or nothing.
They were under a special set of rules though, since...since, but even she knew that her father had to have some point where he finally punished her. There was no way that she could just keep acting out and only get talked to...could she?
"Give me a sec." Paul had to reach up, to the top shelf that lined the back wall of the closet, Murphy tilting her head back to stare up there, watching him pull down first a few different things. Shoe boxes. When he found them to actually hold shoes, he'd set them to the side. When he eventually got to the one that he wanted, Murphy watched her father take a breath before turning to face her.
"Here. This..." The lid was off the box as he turned to face her, holding it out to her. "This is what you were gonna get. If Mommy didn't… If she couldn't make it to your birthday."
And it was way back in March that it had been decided. That night, after they were both done giggling and Andre was in bed with them, but was down at the foot of the bed, Steph told him what she wanted to do.
He was actually on his phone, checking his email, when she said, "You know how we were talking about cassettes or whatever?"
"Or whatever," he mumbled, hardly listening.
"And how I told you that boy, like, made me that mixtape with his voice over it?"
"This is some weird after sex talk, Steph, but sure."
"Shut up. Listen."
Glancing over at her then, he said, "All ears."
"And I still remember that, you know? And I'd probably still have it, if it actually meant anything to me."
"Uh-huh."
"And I just… What if I don't, like, make it to July?"
He frowned then. "You lost me. And you're being stupid. So-"
"Paul-"
"You said you didn't want to talk about-"
"What if I'm not here for their birthdays, Paul?"
"Stephanie-
"I mean, I know, eventually, I won't be, but knowing that I might not this year-"
"Why are we talking about this? When you're not even feeling that bad? Today?"
"Because now would be the time to talk about it."
"It's March!"
"And if something happened, like, in April-"
"I could die. At any time," he told her. "We all could. They...could...but thinking about that makes me feel weird so-"
"It's different, Paul." She was lying on her side beside him, head rested more on his pillow than her own (mainly because he knew she had been spying on what he was doing on his phone), but that was okay because he liked her close. "With this."
"How?"
"Because I know that I'm-"
"You don't know anything."
"Excuse you?"
Huffing, he tossed his phone down into his lap before giving her his full attention. "We don't know what's going to happen, Steph. With any of this. At all. And-"
"And if I am there, for their birthday, then what difference does it make?" she asked. "If I do it?"
"Do what?" She hadn't stated that yet. Frowning at her, he asked, "You wanna make them a...mixtape?"
"Shut up, Paul."
"I'm asking!"
"You're being a jerk."
"Then what is it that you wanna-"
"I just," she said and her voice cracked a bit, making him feel like an ass for giving her such a hard time (especially when he knew that he'd cave to any and everything that she wanted anyways), "want to be able to tell them happy birthday. Okay?"
He nodded, because he felt so bad, before asking, "But how?"
"I wanna record a video or whatever. And tell them. Whatever I want to tell them."
And what was he supposed to say to that? Other than he'd buy her some blank DVDs or whatever, if she wanted, and leave it at that?
The problem though, was that Steph wasn't doing bad in March. So, when she recorded whatever she did on that first DVD (Paul never watched any of them), they both agreed that it would freak the kids out, if they stumbled upon it and watched it, listening to their mother talk about herself as if she had passed on.
It'd actually be pretty scarring, Paul figured.
So they hid it. And, since March was so far away, Steph inevitably made another. And then another. And she put them away, each time, eventually shifting the box that they wound up keeping them in to the lake house, far away from the kids. And Paul was supposed to give them to Murphy and Aurora, if she didn't…if something happened. Before their birthday. Or just whenever.
But then she made it to July and to their party.
Just not Vaughn's.
But when she got sick, at the end of July, very sick, the last thing on either of their minds were those stupid DVDs. There was so much else going on, after all. And when he did remember them, when it was all over, he decided that while he'd always honor his wife's wishes, she technically said originally that they were for if she didn't make it to their birthday parties. And she had. Even though Paul knew, with so many of those DVDs, that there had to be other things burned on them than just well wishes for a happy birthday, Steph had never mentioned outside of Aurora and Murphy's birthdays as needing to get them to the girls.
So he thought he wouldn't. For awhile. A long while. Because…
It was creepy.
To him.
He knew that Steph's sentiment was well, but at the same time, it was going to kind of be like a loss all over again, he felt. Because eventually they'd reach the end of those DVDs. And they'd lose Steph all over again and only be left with remnants.
And he never was going to give them to Vaughn. He knew his girls, in theory, weren't that far in age, but they still were in his mind. And she was a baby. And he felt like that would just screw her up or something. Be just as creepy to her as it was to him. He figured Steph felt the same, as she never rightfully said she recorded Vaughn a birthday message thing, and thought too that Vaughn was just too young.
So they picked out the bike.
It was supposed to be a really nice moment. He felt like it was nice. Before Murphy…
But he was standing there then, with the box outstretched to his daughter, and slowly, she came to peek in.
"What are they?"
"They're little...videos. Of Mommy." He watched as she slowly pulled a random DVD out, staring at her mother's obvious writing on it. Just a date and then her older sister's name. When she pulled out another, it had her name and another date. "For you. And Rora. She...didn't know if she'd be here in July, so she made these. And...I don't know about you, but I think that's better than bike. Don't you?"
She was frowning though, staring down at the one in her hand before glancing back up at him. "Mommy's...on them?"
"Yeah. She is." Swallowing, he added quickly then, "But you can't tell Vaughn, Murph. Or Aurora, right now. I'll talk to Aurora, but Vaughn can't...see these. I don't want her to. Alright? I-"
"I can put it in your laptop and watch it?" She wasn't listening to him then, just staring up at him with wide eyes. "Daddy? All of them?"
"Well...yeah, I guess. If you want."
"Right now?"
"Murphy-
"I can I watch them right now?"
What was he supposed to say?
Instead of saying anything, he only nodded. Murphy took off too, at his nod, with the random DVD in her hand, and back into the adjoining bedroom where she knew his laptop had to be lying around somewhere.
Paul knew that he should be watching it with her. Probably. To answer any questions or...whatever, but he couldn't. Instead he only followed her into the bedroom and set up his laptop for her. The kids watched DVDs on it all the time, so she had no need for him after he'd logged on, which was Paul's excuse for leaving the room. Just ruffled her hair and told her he was going to go talk to Aurora and to get him if she needed anything.
But he didn't go outside to get his oldest. Not immediately. For one thing, he didn't want them fighting over the DVDs and figured he'd give Murphy a bit with them. For another though, he just...couldn't. Go back out there. In that moment.
Andre hadn't come into the bedroom with them. Paul had shut him out. So when the man walked out, he started to run passed Paul, to go jump up on the man's bed with Murphy, but for some reason he followed his master instead. All the way back downstairs and to the living room, where they both sat on the couch.
He knew that Paul liked him, Andre did, but he also knew he wasn't one of the girls. Or Steph. He didn't like to get licks or kisses and he certainly didn't like to snuggle. Still though, when the dog laid his big head on the man's equally as big thigh, he didn't shove him off.
Just sat there and waited. For someone to come in or for Murphy to come down. Whichever came first. It honestly, at that point, didn't matter to him.
At all.
So we're all in agreement that when I said five chapters, I meant ten, right?
