Nick and Charlie One-Shots

sweet moments

I woke up slowly, stretching my arms over my head. That was a good nap. I sit up carefully, shivering as the cool air hits me. The curtains are half open and I can see the snow falling outside, covering everything in a sheen of sparkling white. I'm grateful that I've been able to get a short nap, bundled up in the warmth of my house while my husband, Nick, has entertained our daughter.

Nick has left one of his jumpers draped over the nearby chair so I reach out to grab it, pulling it on with only a little struggle when I get to my bump. Seems like soon I won't be able to get away with even Nick's big jumpers. I contemplate trying to pull on some socks but decide against it. That particular task requires some contortion that I don't feel like attempting right now.

Taking a pair of fluffy socks with me, I make my way out of the bedroom. It's an eerie silence that greets me in the hallway and I frown. Silence is not always a good thing. As I start down the stairs, I suddenly hear a giggle and hushed whispers and I smile to myself. I make sure my steps are quiet as I continue down the two flights of stairs in our townhouse, avoiding the squeaky step on the second staircase.

The hushed whispers and giggles get louder as I round the corner to the kitchen, stopping just short of the doorway so I could take in the adorable sight without disturbing my little family. 

Nick is standing at the counter, rolling out cookie dough. He's wearing the stupid 'kiss the cook' apron I gave him years ago as a joke and he's got flour and cocoa powder brushed across his cheeks, but he's smiling as he listens to our daughter, Freya, chatting away. Occasionally he interrupts her to remind her to be quiet because "Papa's sleeping, remember?"

Beside him, Freya is sitting on the counter, sorting through the pile of cookie cutters we have collected. She also has flour on her cheeks, and I'm pretty sure there's some in her hair too. Every surface of the kitchen is covered in flour, cookbooks, bowls and broken egg shells. It's not the first time I've walked into a scene like this and I'm sure it won't be the last, but every time makes my heart swell with love for my family. I wish I'd brought my phone with me so I could get a photo or a video of this sweet moment.

When Nick is happy with the dough, he sets aside the rolling pin and turns to Freya, "What shapes are we making?"

"This one!" Freya announces, holding up one that I can't tell from this angle what shape it is. She sets it down on the dough, right in the centre and taps on it maybe a little too hard.

"Careful, darling." Nick says with a laugh, picking up the cookie cutter again and moving it to another spot for Freya to push down. They repeat that process for a while before Freya decides she's had enough of that shape and reaches for another one.

I decide to make my presence known, moving into the kitchen and going to stand by Nick, sliding my arm around him, "Hi. What's going on in here?"

"Hi, babe. How was your nap?" Nick presses a kiss to the side of my head but keeps one eye on Freya who is still pressing the cookie cutter into the dough wherever she deems enough space.

"Good. Who decided it was cookie time?"

"Freya." Nick was quick to answer but his tone told me otherwise and I laughed, hugging him tighter.

"Papa, look." Freya had apparently finished cutting out the shapes and was pointing at the dough still laid out over the counter.

"Very good, sweetheart. Did you make them all by yourself, or did daddy help?" 

"Daddy help." She spoke through a mouthful of extra cookie dough that she'd picked up from the counter.

"We might have made a little bit of a mess." Nick told me with a laugh.

"That's okay. As long as you clean it up." I leaned up to kiss the small part of his cheek that wasn't covered in flour, "Hey, I need a hand with putting my socks on."

"Cold feet?" Nick laughed, wiping his hands on a nearby dish-towel and taking the fluffy socks from me. 

"Not yet, but this place is like an igloo in the winter so it's only a matter of time."

"You know, igloos are supposed to be pretty warm inside, something about how they're made." Nick tells me as he kneels down in front of me. 

I take hold of the counter to steady myself and frown down at my husband, "How on earth do you know that?"

"I read it somewhere. Guess it just stuck in my head." Nick's hands are gentle and he makes sure the bottoms of my jeans are tucked into the socks before standing up again and resting his hands on the bump, kissing the tip of my nose. "There, warm and cosy."

"Thank you." I smile and look over at Freya who has snuck some more cookie dough while Nick and I have been distracted. "I'm going to just do a few things for work in the study. Come get me when the cookies are done. Maybe we can watch a movie and order pizza for dinner?"

"Sounds good." He gives me a real kiss and I lean over to kiss Freya's head. 

"Make sure you save some of those cookies for me, sweetheart."

"Yes papa." Freya smiles up at me. "Love you, papa."

"I love you too, Freya." I don't even have to look at my husband to know he's pouting at me so I nudge him in the ribs gently, "Of course, I love you too, you giant loser."

I manage to wriggle free of Nick's embrace and leave the room, glancing back one last time to see him showing Freya how to carefully pick up the cookies and put them on the tray for the oven. There's a smile tugging the corners of my lips up that I can't, and honestly don't want to, get rid of.