✅ My Cousin's Keeper [NaNoWriMo 2021]

11. My Rest Day

When I woke up on Saturday morning I was rushing to get ready again. I didn't need to rush breakfast to make sure that Tess was ready for school, and I wasn't going to be at work this weekend, but that didn't mean much today. I realised as soon as I woke that I hadn't asked Tess what time she was planning to get up, and I saw it as my duty to make breakfast for my little one whatever time she expected it. She might have kept her alarm clock set to the same time as on school days, so that she would have a regular diurnal rhythm; or she might have decided that it would be better to sleep in. I could have made a guess, but I wanted to be ready for her in either case.

This morning, I couldn't decide what to wear. That wasn't usual for me. I had smarter clothes for work, and clothes that showed off my figure for when I was spending time with my girlfriend. Then things that were purely for comfort, the outfits I wore if I was lazing around the house on my own for any length of time. I didn't wear those often, because Ffrances was rarely unavailable for a whole day now, but I still found a reason to dress like I was still a university student occasionally. This morning, I wasn't sure what would be appropriate. I'd been dressed up in semi-formal gear when I met Tess and her parents, and then I'd been working every day. I didn't know if she would be too shocked if she saw me suddenly change style.

I shrugged, and dressed for comfort. A little ironically, perhaps. I still had a three wolf moon tee, bought a couple of years after the meme had run its course. Something that Ffrances would find funny if I didn't find time to change into something a little more exciting before she came around. And then I stopped, realising that my normally-impeccable planning had let me down today.

I hadn't talked to Tess. Well, I'd talked to her a lot. The night before, I'd pushed her to try wine again, casually mentioning that if she was really as mature as she thought she wouldn't have any problem with it. She'd only had one glass this time, maybe two more after I'd topped it up each time she wasn't paying attention, but she had shown that she trusted me. And this time, there hadn't been any kind of secret ingredients. No sleeping pills, no diuretics, just wine as it came out of the bottle. And I hadn't put the pills into her bedtime flask either, so I was pretty confident she wouldn't have wet the bed again. Perhaps that would help to make her less reluctant to drink; I needed to make sure she wasn't associating her accidents with drinking wine, because that would just make it harder for her to relax.

We'd spoken, sure. We'd chatted about all kinds of things over a couple of bottles, which I was confident I'd drunk about half of. We'd talked about her parents, and the problems she'd been having about school. About her friends, and when she might be able to invite them to visit. I'd asked again about her boyfriend, but she had been too embarrassed to say anything and had quickly changed the subject. There was someone, I was sure; and I think I might have started to understand why parents can be so protective of their little girls. It made my blood boil to think of someone taking advantage of a child so sweet and innocent. But she couldn't tell me yet; I would still have to work on letting her trust me more. We'd talked about all kinds of things last night, and earlier in the day as well.

What I hadn't done was talk about my own girlfriend. It would have been the perfect moment to mention it after she explained her relationship status, if her answer hadn't been a desperate attempt to talk about something completely unrelated. So she didn't know about Ffrances, and probably had no idea that there was going to be someone else in the house today. How would I bring it up? I didn't know, but I needed to make sure that I wasn't taking the little one completely by surprise. I wanted her to feel comfortable, and I wanted her to feel like I'd checked this was okay with her first. We were housemates, after all, until she decided she was ready to show me her little side.

When I got down to the kitchen, there was no sign of my cousin. That didn't surprise me. At her age, I didn't think there was much chance of her being a naturally early riser. But I needed to be ready, just in case. I set about washing the dishes from last night, and thought about what I was going to be cooking today. The menu I'd drawn up said we might have kedgeree for lunch, but the miso baked cod last night had been too good to keep to myself. The recipe had been in some magazine, where the picture had caught my eye. I'd decided to try it on Friday after weeks of putting it off, but now I wanted to introduce Ffrances to our latest culinary discovery.

I checked the fridge, and it looked like we had enough fish to make either option. Maybe I should give my girlfriend the choice; or perhaps it might be better to put it to a vote. I wanted Tess to feel like she was a part of the family, after all. But the most important question was whether she would be happy about my girlfriend coming to stay. If that eroded her trust then I really didn't know what I would be able to say to reassure her.

I didn't need to worry for long. I got my phone out and browsed the news apps again, catching up on everything that was happening in the world. And when the algorithm decided it was time to show me stories about what diet some muscle bound celeb was on, I thought that meant it was time to do something else. I started browsing fiction instead; there were surprisingly many accounts on the internet of a loving mommy proving to a reluctant sister, cousin, student, daughter, or friend how good it would feel to be her little. Many of them weren't particularly realistic; they assumed that making a girl wet the bed would immediately put her in a little headspace, and then she would graduate to using baby talk after just a few repetitions. I had no reason to believe something like that, and I'd clearly seen that it didn't work like that twice already. But over all of the factual inaccuracies, there were still wholesome stories here. I could read them and look forward to the day Tess could act like that with me.

I almost read a whole story, and then I heard footsteps above me. I paced back to the stairs and ascended slowly. I saw the bathroom door click closed, and a faint squeak of metal on metal as she locked it. I didn't want to disturb her then; I poked my head into the nursery instead. The duvet was tangled on the floor, the blinds open, and the room slightly less tidy than the last time I had seen it. In all, it looked like any other child's room. There was no puddle on the bed today, in any case, so my guess had been correct. Then I went back downstairs, and turned on the stove. I could probably have waited for Tess and asked if she was ready to get up. But now she was actually awake, I figured that the smoky smell of bacon cooking would be the best way to pose that question.