bechloe-bible-49: This is my first time writing Chaubrey with a kid. I'm excited.
Pixie1913: Aubrey IS adorable.
LaraAelric (chapters 1, 2): Aubrey is the cutest. No one can argue. I will fight anyone who thinks she's not adorable.
Acroviolet: Thank you! I'm practicing writing quality cuteness. But with a plot, bc I can't exist without SOME bad things happening.
A/N: I accidentally wrote 'cat' instead of 'dog' in the last chapter, but I fixed it, so it's all good!
Something Just Like This
She said, where'd you wanna go?
How much you wanna risk?
I'm not looking for somebody with some superhuman gifts,
Some superhero,
Some fairytale bliss.
Just something I can turn to,
Somebody I can kiss
-Coldplay, The Chainsmokers
Aubrey sprints up four flights of stairs, because she knows she can beat the elevator. Not that it matters. She's already late. It's not by much. But her father always says early is on time, on time is late, and if you're late, don't bother showing up. She jogs down the hallway and comes to a stop outside Room 481. It's fine. People are late to places all the time. She raps on the door with her knuckles, then takes a step back. She's tempted to check the time, but she refrains, her skin already crawling from the knowledge that it won't say she's early.
The door opens almost immediately, and an irritated, elderly woman stares Aubrey down. "You said 7:30," she says without missing a beat, then turns to look inside. "Charlotte, your mother is here!"
"I know." Aubrey can feel her cheeks burning. "I got caught up with something. I got here as fast as I could."
"You need to find a new sitter," the woman says, her frown growing by the second.
"Oh." Aubrey blinks and rubs her neck.
"Not because you were late," she says, "You need to teach your child some manners." She ushers Aubrey's five year old into the hallway then holds out her hand.
Aubrey shoves her hand into her pocket and pulls out the cash she took out of the ATM before the Block Party. She hands it to her, then cringes as the door slams in her face. "What did you do?" She takes a deep breath then slooowly lets it out as she looks down at Charlotte.
Charlotte heaves a loud sigh and crosses her arms, meeting Aubrey's eyes with raised eyebrows.
"For serious." Aubrey's frown begins to hurt her cheeks. "I'm running out of people to watch you. What did you do?"
"I don't need anyone to watch me," Charlotte says. She turns and starts walking towards the staircase. "I'm five. I can watch myself; I have a mirror."
Really? Aubrey stares at the back of her head for a few seconds before walking behind her. "Tell me what you did, and I'll give you pizza," she offers.
Charlotte glances over her shoulder, and Aubrey holds up the box. "I told her she's going to die soon." She stops and kicks at the carpet. "She's old; someone had to tell her!"
"You can't tell people that they're about to die, Charlotte." Aubrey sighs and opens the pizza box. She kneels down to her level and takes the pizza out of the box, folding it so Charlotte can hold it easier. "But I guess she is old."
"Super old." Charlotte turns around and marches back to Aubrey, stopping centimeters away from the pizza. She leans forward and takes a giant bite. Strings of cheese remain attached to the pizza, and she backs up, trying to use her tongue to detach them. "Where were you?" she mumbles, mouth full.
"Chew and swallow." Aubrey hands her the pizza slice and leaves her to figure out the cheese situation. She closes the box and stands up. "I told you I was going to a Block Party, remember?"
Charlotte nods and follows her to the stairs. She swallows her mouthful of pizza. "Can I go play with the blocks now?"
Their previous twenty minute conversation about how a Block Party does not include Legos is not one that Aubrey cares to repeat. "It's bedtime," she says, and leads her down the stairs to the third floor. "The blocks have all been put away now."
Charlotte sighs extra loudly and takes another bite of pizza. "You're supposed to share blocks, remember?" she asks after she swallows.
Aubrey turns and walks down the hallway. "I told you they were grownup blocks. You wouldn't have been able to lift them." She digs in her pocket for her apartment key as she stops outside the door.
Charlotte shoots her a dubious look.
Aubrey unlocks the door then puts her key back in her pocket. "It's true." She starts to rub her throat, but catches herself and quickly lowers her hand before Charlotte calls her out on the nervous habit. "I could barely lift them." She turns around to look at her again.
"You're weak if you can't lift a block." Charlotte doesn't stop staring at her as she takes another bite of pizza then licks some of the sauce off her hand.
"Excuse me?" Aubrey folds her arms.
Charlotte shrugs. "You said sometimes the truth hurts." She takes another bite.
The corners of Aubrey's lips twitch. "I'm going to remember that." She leans against the door and waits for Charlotte to finish her pizza. "What book do you want to read tonight?"
"Hm." Charlotte eats her way to the crust then hands that to Aubrey. "The one Daddy gived me."
"We read that one all week. You said you were going to pick a new one tonight." Aubrey takes a bite of the crust and opens the door, ushering Charlotte inside before the dog can get out.
"I want that one." Charlotte throws her arms up in front of her face as Twix rushes to her and begins jumping to try to lick the pizza sauce from her hands and face.
Aubrey turns on the kitchen light and tosses the pizza box in the trash can. "You have a whole shelf of books that you haven't read yet." She leans against the counter and finishes off the pizza crust. "It's a waste of money if you're not going to read them."
"Take them back." Charlotte giggles as Twix knocks her onto the floor.
"I'm not taking them back. You're going to read them." Aubrey glances at the clock. "It's time to brush your teeth."
Charlotte pushes the French Bulldog off of her and sits up. "Fine." She stands up and places her hands on her hips.
Fine? Aubrey isn't sure how she ended up with a child that manages to be both irritatingly stubborn, yet completely compliant at the same time, but it makes her wonder why she doesn't go out drinking more. "You need to walk to the bathroom in order to brush your teeth," she reminds her and makes a hand motion toward the hallway.
Charlotte drops her hands to her sides and spins on her heels, then marches herself toward the bathroom.
Aubrey rolls her eyes and breaks into a half-smile once Charlotte is no longer examining her every expression and move, and follows her down the hallway. "How was school today?" she asks as they walk into the bathroom.
Charlotte climbs onto her step stool and takes her toothbrush out of the cabinet. She runs it under the water and puts her toothpaste on it, then sticks it in her mouth before responding to the question. "I ant alk," she mumbles, scrubbing her teeth, "I oofbruth is in I outh."
Aubrey grabs her own toothbrush. "That's fine." She runs it under the water than digs her toothpaste out of the cabinet. "I won't tell you about my day either." She squeezes her toothpaste onto the brush then looks at herself in the mirror as she brushes her teeth, managing to watch Charlotte from the reflection without being noticed.
Charlotte leans forward and spits in the sink. "Good." She turns on the water and rinses off her toothbrush, then puts it back. "It was probably boring. It's always boring." She cups her hands under the water and rinses her mouth.
Aubrey spits. "That's not true." It's definitely true. She follows suit, rinsing her toothbrush and putting it away before rinsing her mouth. "I made a new friend at the party."
"You said you weren't going to tell me about it." Charlotte steps down off her stool.
"Did you make any new friends today?" Aubrey asks.
Charlotte's features darken for a fraction of a second before she stares expressionless at Aubrey. She shrugs. "I had a spelling test."
"But did you talk to anyone?" Aubrey asks. All she wants is an answer – even if it's not the one she wants to hear.
"I got all the answers right," Charlotte says, "I got the bonus right too. So I got two stickers. They're in my backpack."
"Who did you sit by at lunch today?" Aubrey asks. There has to be a name. She knows Kindergarten all sits together at an assigned table in the cafeteria.
"The bonus word was 'what'," Charlotte informs her as she walks over to the toilet and lifts up the lid. "W-h-a-t. Leave. I have to go potty."
Aubrey gives her a terse nod, then turns and walks out of the bathroom. She's going to need to draft another email – one more that her teacher probably won't respond to. She understands that a class of 21 five year olds is a lot of work, but she could at least be let in on how her child is doing outside of the academics portion of the day. But as long as Charlotte isn't destroying property or attacking other children, apparently the school doesn't find it that important. She can only imagine what public school must be like.
"You didn't close the door!" Charlotte calls after her, shutting it loudly before Aubrey can even turn around.
Aubrey pulls out her phone as she walks into her bedroom and finds herself checking to see if Chloe has texted her. She actually feels disappointed when she has no new messages. Shaking her head at herself, she tosses the phone on the bed then strips out of her clothes and throws them in her hamper. She pulls on a tank top and pajama pants, then walks to meet Charlotte in the hallway after she hears the toilet flush and the sink turn on. "Make sure you wash the dog drool off your face," she says loud enough that she knows Charlotte can hear her through the bathroom door. "With soap!"
"Soap burns my eyeballs!" The sink turns off, and Charlotte opens the bathroom door, her face dripping wet. She lifts her shirt and uses it to dry herself off. "I can't use soap in my eyes," she mutters.
"No one is telling you to put it in your eyes." Aubrey folds her arms.
"You said put it on my face!" Charlotte puts the front of her shirt back down. "That's where my eyes are!"
Aubrey bites her tongue, reminding herself to pick and choose her battles. She tries to tell herself that a little dog drool never hurt anyone, but she finds herself walking into the bathroom and wetting a rag with soap and warm water. "Come here," she commands and kneels down.
Charlotte turns and walls back into the room, stopping in front of her.
Aubrey scrubs her cheeks and forehead with the soapy half of the rag then wipes off the suds with the other half, smirking as Charlotte whines at her and scrunches up her face. "Dogs have cooties," she says, "Do you want cooties on your face?" She tosses the rag onto the sink counter and wipes away a few excess water drops with her thumb.
Charlotte scrubs at her eyes with the back of her arm then drops her arm down by her sides.
Aubrey smiles at her and cups her chin with her hand. She leans forward and pecks Charlotte's lips then stands up. "It's time to put on your pajamas."
Charlotte slaps her arms against her sides. "Why is it always time for something?" she asks.
"Because that's just how things work," Aubrey answers, "Look, I'm in my pajamas, and now it's time for you to be in yours."
Charlotte heaves a sigh and walks toward her bedroom, leaving Aubrey behind her.
"Which ones do you want to wear?" Aubrey asks as she follows her. She stops in front of Charlotte's dresser and opens the drawer that contains her GoodNites as Charlotte turns on the light. She pulls out one of the pull-ups then closes the drawer again and opens the pajamas drawer.
"Poppy," Charlotte answers without missing a beat as she undresses herself. "That's not even a question!"
"Of course." Aubrey nods. "How silly of me to ask." She pulls out the Trolls nightgown. If it isn't Poppy, it isn't relevant. She hands Charlotte her clothes then turns to look at her bookshelf. "There's the new Trolls book I bought you," she suggests, "We haven't read that one yet."
Charlotte slips on her pajamas, then tosses her dirty clothes in the hamper. "I want to read the one Daddy gived me," she replies petulantly.
"Gived isn't a word," Aubrey says and looks at the other book. "I don't want to read that one anymore, Charlotte. Pick a new one."
"The Trolls one," Charlotte mumbles.
Aubrey grabs it off the shelf. "Thank you." She flips through it as she makes her way to the rocking chair in the corner. "It looks like a good book." It looks like everything she hates after seeing the movie eight-hundred times, but at least it's something new. She sits down on the chair and pats her lap.
Charlotte frowns at her as she walks over and climbs up onto her lap. She settles back as Aubrey leans back of the chair, and looks down at the book.
Aubrey breathes through a pang of guilt as she opens it up to the first page and begins reading. It really is that she has just read the same book over and over every night for a week, and her eyes hurt just looking at the cover of it at this point. It's time to switch it up – at least for one night. She uses her foot to rock them back and forth, reading slowly so Charlotte has time to examine the pictures.
Three pages in, Charlotte slowly starts to settle down and accept that this is the book they're reading. She slides her thumb into her mouth and reaches her other hand above her head, feeling around until she finds Aubrey's hair. Her head lulls against her arm, and she twists the ends up Aubrey's hair around her fingers then rubs it between her fingers and thumb, staring absently at the book.
It used to be that Charlotte would fall asleep while Aubrey was reading, but not anymore. She fights it lately, even after the book is finished. Aubrey closes the book once she's done reading and places it on the nightstand, then scoops Charlotte up into her arms as she stands. She silently carries her to her bed, finally at a point where she can pull the blankets down with Charlotte still in her arms. "Do you want some music on?" she whispers as she places her down and covers her up.
Charlotte nods, not taking her eyes off her.
Aubrey fiddles with the iPod and speakers on Charlotte's nightstand until it turns on – instrumental music filling the room. She kneels down beside the bed and places a light kiss on Charlotte's forehead.
"Mommy?" Charlotte mumbles over her thumb and reaches to play with her hair again. "Is Daddy coming home tomorrow?"
Aubrey swallows hard and shakes her head.
"Next week?" Charlotte asks.
"No." Aubrey shakes her head again.
"Next month?" Charlotte tries again.
"I don't know, Charlotte, okay? I don't know." Aubrey kisses her forehead again. "It's time for bed." She gently untwists her hair from Charlotte's grip, and stands back up. "I love you." She turns on her nightlight before she turns off the room light, then cracks the door as she steps out and walks back to the bathroom.
Her features fall once she's out of Charlotte's sight. Aubrey scrubs off her makeup as quickly as she can then walks back into her bedroom and sits down on the edge of the bed. She looks at the picture on her nightstand. It's still there, even after weeks of her telling herself she's going to put it away so she doesn't have to look at it anymore. Doesn't have to look at him anymore. She picks it up and holds it on her lap, and traces her pointer finger around the inside edges of the frame. She looks disgustingly happy in the photograph – her eyes shut tight as she laughs. He has one arm around her, his other holding up Charlotte as she makes a face at the camera. Someone should have told her that she would only have two months, three weeks, and one day after the photo was taken to see him. Selfish prick.
It isn't until a tear splashes across the frame and blurs his face that Aubrey realizes she's crying. She takes a deep breath, pulls herself together, and places the photo face down on her nightstand so all he can see is the cheap wood. She'll put the photo away. Eventually. She scoots back on her bed until her back is against the headboard, and closes her eyes. And she'll downgrade to a smaller bed, because this one feels too big for just her. She pinches the bridge of her nose, her stomach feeling suddenly queasy. She reaches over without looking and sets the frame upright again.
"Mommy?"
Aubrey quickly lifts her head and opens her eyes, looking over to where Charlotte is standing in the doorway. "Hey." She sniffles and tries to subtly wipe her face with the back of her hand. "Go back to bed. You're supposed to be going to sleep."
"I was thinking…" Charlotte says, taking a few steps into the room.
Aubrey lets out a slow breath and shifts to sit crisscross, resting her hands on her lap. "Mhm?"
"There might be a monster under your bed," Charlotte says very seriously. She walks the rest of the way inside and kneels down beside the bed, looking underneath it. "There is."
"Oh." Aubrey frowns and looks down at her. "Charlotte, that's the container with our extra sheets in it."
"No, it's a monster." Charlotte stands up and jumps, grabbing onto the blankets and pulling herself up onto the bed. "I have to make sure it doesn't eat you."
Aubrey finally sees what she's getting at.
Charlotte pulls down the blankets and crawls underneath them. "I'm going to make sure it doesn't eat you."
"I don't think that's necessary." Aubrey lowers herself down onto her side. "Go to bed."
"It is," Charlotte says nonchalantly. She pulls the blankets up over Aubrey too, then snuggles into her and resumes sucking her thumb and playing with her hair. She yawns and closes her eyes.
Aubrey watches her for a moment, debating carrying her back to her own bed. She has a feeling that wouldn't be accomplishing much, unless she wants the exercise from doing it over and over again. She finally sighs and wraps her arm around Charlotte, hugging her closer as she closes her eyes, too. "Night, Charlotte," she whispers.
Charlotte pulls her thumb from her mouth just long enough to turn her head and kiss Aubrey's cheek. "Night, Mommy. I love you."