If he hadn't been right in front of the nursery door, he would have sworn. Loudly.
He picked his face up off of the landing, turning his head to down at his feet, which were wrapped tightly together in the rug. A few of the bricks hastily put themselves back into place as he flopped over and reached for his ankles, rolling around like a turtle on its back. It took him a solid five minutes to free himself. He through the rug over the banister.
"Casita!"
The bricks gave a lazy wave as if waking up from sleep and only noticing him.
"Don't even pretend!" He snarled. "What was that for?"
A ripple ran the length of the second story, moving tables and furniture in an interested manner.
"I was hungry." He said. "Now I'm hungry and sore. What did you do with my dinner?"
The plate skidded around a couple of decorative vases and came to rest by his hand.
"Thank you." He stood and dusted himself off then bent to retrieve the plate, which jumped up and scooted itself further out of reach. "No thank you."
He chased it in a couple of circles before standing up with a huff. "What? What do you want?"
Casita threw his food over off the balcony to land on top of the rug.
"That was uncalled for. And Mamí isn't going to be happy with that."
Casita threw his sandals over, too. A small table with a flowery vase trembled dangerously.
"Okay! Okay! I'm here! Happy?"
The answer was a resounding No, judging by the pictures swaying wildly on the walls.
"Well, I can't help if you keep throwing things."
In an abrupt change of mood, everything settled immediately, even the slight rustling of the hanging plants and the low creaking of shutters stopped.
He took a deep breath, about to say something very rude that might have led to him being the next thing launched off the second story, when he heard it. A faint, but angry, roar coming from inside the nursery.
He looked around. "Go get Julieta, then."
The bricks snapped menacingly around his toes.
"I'm not her mother. Go get Julieta or Agustín or Pepa or Má...ouch!"
He drew back his foot. The crying continued, growing steadily more piteous.
"Casita, please. I don't do kids. I can't even take care of myself!"
The bricks raised themselves up and down in a wave that forced him backward until he felt himself pressed into the nursery door, which opened of its own accord. He tumbled ungracefully across the threshold.
The shock of having her Tío fall into her room quieted Isabela for about a second. Their eyes met as she watched him heft himself off the floor with some interest. Then she unleashed a wall of sound that nearly knocked him over again.
"Casita!"
The door shut itself, and he was trapped.
He covered his ears and wandered helplessly over to the crib, where a small, pink, chubby, and furious guácharo screeched at him. She had apparently found a way onto her tummy in her sleep and was not happy about it.
Gingerly, he reached down and turned her over. She settled some but still seemed disposed to being mad at the world.
"Hey, hey, Isa." He tried for the soft, calming tone that he'd heard Julieta use on her daughter (and himself). "Uh...I'm not your mamá, but I'm here. Not that I had much choice in it, but I guess we're stuck together, yeah?"
She blinked up at him with red, watery eyes and a face covered in tears and snot and drool. He really did not want to pick her up but didn't know what help there was for it as she threw her arms up and mewled at him.
How were you supposed to hold these things? Just so squirmy and messy and...and...
She went limp almost immediately, with a huge yawn that ended in what was unmistakably a snore. She was a solid warmth on his chest, her shock of dark hair flattening itself to the side of her head as she burrowed into the crook of his arm, fingers in her mouth.
God, she was perfect.
He was glad that she had stopped crying before he started because it wouldn't do for both of them to have simultaneous meltdowns. He hugged her tight to his chest and made for the rocking chair in the corner. A shutter fluttered at him.
"I hate it when you're right," he whispered to the house.
The shutter pushed itself open a bit more so the stars could listen as he hummed the night away.
A/N: Casita knows best! I imagine Isa to be between 3-5 months old, and it's very likely that she and Dolores would be sharing the nursery. I'm going to say Pepa has Dolores for some reason.
Would love to hear your thoughts! -WW