Funny thing about going to school in the morning, teachers basically assume that one has gotten some semblance of a good night’s sleep the night before. Funny thing about a department store right before Christmas and New Years, it’s open until midnight. Have I mentioned I hate my job?
So there I was, on my very last midnight before the start of the New Year and yadda yadda yadda, when my boss strolls over. “Michaela? What did you make for the party?” Okay, now, did she just say make? Let’s list the activities I cannot do: 1.) Flirt, 2.) Dance, 3.) Cook/Bake/Microwave.
“Umm, didn’t we just do our little Christmas shindig, like 2 months ago?” She seemed to be genuinely pondering my question. I waited patiently, until I heard a familiar voice. “Yeah, what did you make, Michaela? I don’t want to spend New Years with food poisoning.” New Years, right. Can’t ring in the New Year without baked goods. Nancy, the new manager, tried to hold in her chuckle, as very deliberately I turned. I was fully prepared to pull back and smack him, but instead I stopped dead in my tracks. Taylor stood directly behind me, well in front of me now, wearing the ever present dress shirt and pants, and the hair, Jesus forgive me my dirty thoughts... But the hair wasn’t really my problem, you see. It was more the fact that he was flanked by Isaac and Zac, the latter of the two balancing a pudgy red-cheeked child on his hip. Nancy prodded my side and snapped me from my stupor. “Michaela? What did you make?”
“Umm... Well, you see...” Taylor stopped my fumbling with an overly friendly arm slipping around my shoulders to cuddle me close. I barely had time to glare and shove him away before he was cutting me off.
“We brought plenty. Don’t worry about it.” Nancy smiled brightly, in that way that my senile grandmother smiles when we tell her that yes, we can see grandpa, who has been dead for 13 years, as well. Then she trotted off down to the other register, to grill someone else on their choice of baked goods, leaving me with the Hansons and their small friend. Taylor took the baby gently from Zac’s arms and the child peeked cautiously at me, while Taylor waved his chubby hand for him. “This is Taylor Jr.” Now why am I not surprised he named the kid after himself? ‘Taylor Jr.’ took another long look at me before promptly bursting into tears and beginning a shockingly loud wail. Item number four on that list? Children. Taylor looked concerned before he headed the way of Nancy, bumping the boy up and down softly as he went. I looked at the remaining two, cursing our washer for breaking and leaving me desperate enough to wear this wildly unsexy dress.
“So,” Said Isaac, as he stepped closer into my personal space. What is it with this family and the entirely large need to be close to me? “I heard you guys had fun at the Christmas party. Sorry you couldn’t stick around when I got there.” He gave me a cheeky grin and I could feel my cheeks pinkening. Adonis, or Zac if you prefer, merely raised his eyebrow and remained silent. Guess we know who got the tact in this family.
“If you call being forced to dance with your brother fun, then yeah you missed a hell of a good time.” I paused to briefly ponder my cattiness, before continuing, and stepping away from his much too muscled body. “Speaking of which, what’s this I hear about a party?”
***
Taylor Jr. is obviously experiencing the terrible twos. Since he has arrived, he has managed to knock over a display of glassware, place his sticky little hands all over the white towels, and spill a considerable amount of his baby drool on my shoe. Yes, that’s right, MY shoe. Taylor decided that he wanted to spend some quality time with me, when I was perfectly content to disrespect my boss by placing my feet on her desk and reclining all night, by myself. I looked to him now, to find Taylor Jr. absently teething on his fingers. Somehow it seems horridly inappropriate to engage in conversation with someone while their baby is teething on their fingers. I wisely remained silent. I was starting to stare off into space, and forget that I was sharing a very small amount of space with Taylor and company when loud Christmas music flooded the stock room. Yes, I did say the stock room. I gotta hand it to this store; we really know how to have parties with class. At least 10 employees of the combined house wares domestics departments were crammed into the tiny front portion of the stockroom, and I had a sneaky suspicion that a few more had managed to sneak into the back area where there was undoubtedly some mischief taking place. Why am I sitting here again?
Anyway, where was I? Right, the music. Taylor Jr. looked up from his teething exercises and a smile overtook his chubby little face. So maybe the kid isn’t so bad after all. “Hey, I’m gonna go grab a drink, okay? Be right back.” Before I had a chance to reply, Taylor was walking away, squeezing past his brother Zac and toward the soda. Taylor Jr. watched his father depart with a look akin to horror on his face, before he turned back to me, and I swear, the kid glared at me. Baby talk bubbled from his lips and he stretched his fingers out toward the retreating Taylor, starting to cry. Now, I might not be the most blessed girl when it comes to maternal instincts, but even I know that you’re supposed to pick up a crying toddler, right? So, I hitched up the W.U.S. (Wildly Unsexy Dress) and got on my knees next to him. “Hey, there, umm, Taylor. Daddy will be right back alright? It’s okay.” I patted his tiny back comfortingly. It seemed to be working because as soon as I settled onto my butt, Taylor Jr. climbed into my lap, placing the sticky chocolate hands all over me. Did I mention that the W.U.S. is white? Oh well, at least he isn’t crying.
I looked up at the sound of an amused snort. Zachary was towering over Taylor Jr. and I, grinning down from under his hair. “Looks like he likes you.” Zac settled himself down beside me as Taylor Jr. wound his meaty little hand in my hair. I grimaced in reply and let the kid be. Where the hell was Taylor? “So,” Said Zac, grinning pleasantly at me. “I hear you shot down my brother?”
“Uh. Sort of.” I was going to reply, when Taylor Jr. twisted around on my lap, yanking my dress up further on my thigh. Zac’s grin widened, if that was possible, and I yanked the dress back down. “Do you mind?”
He had the decency to look a little ashamed before mumbling an apology, and holding out his arms to the baby, who quickly discarded my hair and crawled onto him. “Hey. I’m back.” Taylor settled down on the other side of me and shot an unreadable look at Zac. “What were you guys talking about?” I glanced at Zac, who merely leered in response and answered his brother.
“Michaela and I were just going out for some air.” Taylor glared in response, and I couldn’t quite stifle the giggle that was threatening to burst from my throat. Poor Taylor looked so distraught that I had to do something.
“Actually, *I* was going for some air, and Zac was staying here.” Zac looked crestfallen, but oh well. He’d survive. For now I had to get to the restroom and rinse the chocolate from my hair.
---
When I rounded the corner on my way back to the stockroom, I almost collided with my mother and... Isaac? “Sweet,” My mother said, addressing me with the shortened version of ‘Sweetie’, no she’s not normal in case you’re wondering. “I have to go home early, I’m not feeling very well.” I nodded distractedly, not enjoying the satisfied smirk painting Isaac’s mouth. “Yes, well, Isaac here has kindly offered to give you a lift home.” I didn’t miss the triumphant flash in her eyes as she walked away, and left me with Isaac.
---
“Buckle up for safety.” Said Isaac, revving the engine. Perhaps I would have done better to ride home with Taylor and Taylor Jr. As he burned out of the parking lot, leaving smoke behind us, I was sure. I’d think twice before dismissing Taylor next time. If I made it home alive that was...