I head out of my room, feeling nervous. Normally I’d ask to use the family car and have the driver take me over, but today I don’t feel like doing that. I order an Uber on my way outside, and fortunately nobody stops me.
I head downstairs and out onto the sidewalk. I wish I had waited to order that Uber, but unfortunately I have to wait a few minutes before the black car pulls up outside of my apartment. I get into the back and the guy heads out, driving me over to Griffin’s.
It’s a pretty short trip. The Uber guy drops me off outside of Griffin’s apartment and I tip him a couple dollars. I know Uber people aren’t paid all that great, so I always try to tip them. Apparently they weren’t always allowed to take tips, but they are now, ever since the drivers won a court case.
I ring Griffin’s bell and he lets me right in. I can’t help but smile when I see him, holding Lacey in his arms.
“There she is,” Griffin says. “Glad you could come over.”
“Well, when I heard Lacey was asking for me, I couldn’t help it.”
Griffin grins and hands me Lacey. I hold her for a second as we head back into the living room then I put her down with her toys.
“It’s almost naptime for her,” he says to me.
I feel a thrill run through my stomach. “How is she today?”
“Good,” he says. “Lots of energy this morning, so I think she’s ready to sleep.”
We sit down on the couch as Lacey plays in front of us. I feel a little strange, since I never really come over here unless it’s for work. But right now, I’m definitely not working, and the way Griffin is looking at me makes my heart beat faster.
He’s so goddamn handsome. I have to look way from him. I need a distraction. I get down on the floor and play with Lacey, and Griffin joins in after a few seconds.
We all play around together, and any sort of reserved hesitancy I may have felt at first quickly goes away. It’s a really simple pleasure, just playing with a toddler like this with someone that I care about, and I never knew that I could really feel this way.
All of a sudden, I feel overwhelmed, but not in a bad way. I realize that this is something I never experienced as a kid. Maybe when I was incredibly young my parents were nicer to me, but I don’t think so. I can’t imagine they ever sat down together and played with me for more than two minutes at a time, especially not without arguing. I bet they fought about the best way to play with us constantly. Or probably not, since my father was usually working weekends even back then.
This feels good. I know I’m not actually in this family at all, but I like Lacey and I really like Griffin. I like sitting on the floor with them, laughing and playing, not a single care in the whole world. It feels so good and wholesome, I never really thought this would be something I’d like.
We play like that for about a half hour, and I quickly lose track of time. I never knew that this could be such a good and simple pleasure. I thought it was a job, although an easy job, but hanging out with Griffin and Lacey off the clock is something else.
It’s what a family should be. It’s all those cheesy sitcoms but better, much better.
“Okay, little doll,” Griffin says finally, glancing at his watch. “Time for you to nap.”
Lacey makes a sound and I just laugh. “Here, I’ll put her down.”
“No, I got her. Make yourself comfortable.” Griffin scoops her up into his arms and carries her off back into her bedroom.
I watch him go for a second then I clean up her little play area. When that’s done, I stand and start to look at all the pictures he has lined up along the walls.
I’ve looked at these before, but I feel like I never really saw them. They’re mostly Griffin and Lacey, though some of them are from when Griffin was younger. One guy keeps popping up a lot, and I assume that’s James, the man Griffin told me is his best friend. Although I know Griffin has gone through some things in his past, it looks like he’s had a really nice family life, maybe easier than some people.
I’m a little jealous of that. My family life has been less than stellar so far.
He comes back into the room after a few minutes. I hold up a picture of him when he was in college standing with another guy in their caps and gowns. “Is this you and James?” I ask him.
“I’m surprised you remember that name,” he says. “I only mentioned him once or twice.”
“I have a good memory for that sort of thing.”
He walks over and takes the picture from me, smiling at it fondly. “Yeah, that’s us. We went to a bar called McMillan’s after this picture was taken and got absolutely hammered.”