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“Hold still or it’s gonna come out crooked,” Mickey gritted in concentration. His brow was furrowed as his fingers worked several strands of hair. “How’d your hair get so long, huh?”
The little girl sitting in front of him giggled, shrugging her shoulders. The strap of her pink dress fell down her shoulder and Mickey miraculously fixed it despite both hands being occupied. “Are you almost finished, daddy?”
“Uhuh. Gimme that rubber band,” Mickey pointed, then secured it in place. “Okay, done. Lemme see.” His daughter turned around, smiling prettily. She looked just like Lana, it was scary. He’d missed a few pieces of hair, but the braid came out better than he’d thought. It had been a while since he’d done it. He kissed her forehead then smacked her butt. “Go get your stuff. Ian’ll be here–”
There was a knock on the door.
“Hurry up!”
“Okay, okay!”
Mickey went to open the door. “Forget your key again?” he teased, pulling Ian into a kiss.
Ian hummed, placing his hands on Mickey’s waist and holding him tight. “I swear I had it. Wouldn’t happen if we lived together,” Ian said, snuggling into Mickey’s neck like he always did when he wanted his way. He could be a persuasive motherfucker, but Mickey had his reasons for wanting to stay in his father’s house. Even if the asshole wasn’t around anymore.
“Yeah, alright,” Mickey rolled his eyes, pulling away. Ian followed him into the house. “Tasha! Let’s go!” Mickey yelled.
The little girl came running with her backpack dragging behind her. She abandoned it completely, as she crashed into Ian’s legs. “Ian!”
“Hey, Tash,” Ian scooped her up and kissed her cheek. “Wow, pretty braid. Aunt Mandy do it?”
Tasha shook her head. “No, daddy did it. It’s the most beautifulest bestest braid I’ve ever seen in my whole entire life!”
Ian laughed, “All seven years,” he set her down so Mickey could put her sweater on. He caught Mickey’s eye, asking a silent question.
“It’s a fishtail, man,” Mickey shrugged, focusing on the little jeweled buttons.
Ian chuckled,“I know. How do you know?”
“Mandy,” Mickey stood up, handing Ian her backpack. Ian raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Broke her wrist when we were kids. Someone had to do her hair.”
“She never told me that,” Ian mused.
“Nothing to tell with dad,” Mickey said, making eye contact. He didn’t want to talk about the past around Tasha.
Ian nodded, getting the message clearly. He swept the long braid back behind her shoulder. “It’s good, Mick. Really good.” He leaned in and kissed the side of Mickey’s mouth.
“Thanks,” Mickey smiled. He remembered the day it happened. He took Mandy to their aunt’s and she took them to the hospital; said she fell off her bike. None of them ever even had a bike….not officially. They were young, but they knew better than to say anything. Kids were clumsy, so no questions were asked. She wouldn’t let her stupid brothers sign her cast, but she let Mickey do her hair. And he did the best he could.
“Ready, kiddo?” Mickey asked his little girl. She nodded. He hugged and kissed her, then walked them to the door.
“Sure you don’t want to spend the weekend with us?” Ian asked.
Mickey laughed. He leaned in to whisper in his ear. “You can take me next week.” He pulled away, biting his lip. Ian looked flushed.
“Bye, daddy! I love you,” Tasha said, blowing him a kiss.
Mickey caught it, “Love you too.”
Ian kissed him. “Love you.”
Mickey smiled.