The Tattooed Flower

17. Just Like Her

Quinn-

She's perfect. Dave and Matthew's daughter is perfect. "Is she named after anyone?" I ask, beaming at the happy little girl to my left. We're sitting the living room of their apartment. The room resembles one of those pages in the home section of a JCPenny magazine. I've never seen someone actually living like this; everything matches everything. For example: the wicker coasters match the wicker basket that hold the plant on the also wicker coffee table (and the crazy part is, it doesn't even look like too much wicker). Though I'm not the most acquainted with pintrest, I can tell they're friends with all things DIY. It's the kind of place that you wouldn't sit down in unless you were told to. It's not the kind of place I'd expect Dave to live but I also never would have guessed that Dave is gay. In short, I've succumbed to stereotypes and now I'm just trying to get over myself.

Matthew was also not like I'd imagined. Part of me had expected another Dave except with hair and a few less tattoos. Matthew is not like that. He's all straight lines and clean cut corners. Very clean. He looks about twenty-eight. No age to slump the corners of his mouth, or harden his blue forget-me-not-eyes, or gray his tousled raven hair. He's admittedly very attractive.

"No, actually the only reason we named her Avery was because Ruth liked it and it's unisex." Dave says, Matthew at his side. I take another glimpse of Avery and give her a lopsided smile. She just turned three and is already sassier than all get-out. Weaving around the room, bouncing around from Dave to Caleb to Matthew and somehow always avoiding me with a coy smile thrown in my direction.

"She's just teasing you." Matthew assures me. "She really just wants you to chase her." I grin at him and stand up. If she wants a chase, than a chase she'll get.

"I'm gonna get you!" I coo stepping towards Avery. She screams and runs off in a fit of giggles, me chasing her down the hallway. She gets behind a wall and grins at me with only four visible teeth. It's the kind of smile that reaches her burn't, umber eyes and dimples her round cheeks. She's got grandma cheeks, and I know that sounds like she has wrinkles, but it's not that. They're very... "Pinch-able".

I approach her quickly, and she turns away, giggling like mad as her fiery curls bounce out of view. I follow her down the hall and then into her room. She runs into her bed and grabs at the sheets, her final escape plan. I grab her around her stomach, my hands running across the soft, blue fabric of her dress, the same color as a robin's egg. I tickle her under her arms and she squirms, laughing in my hands. After a moment I release her and she runs across the room to a white chest, that I'd have to assume is filled with toys.

Her walls are a plain white, much like most of the apartment. However, they are littered with pictures and sayings and artwork. I find myself fixated on one picture. It's a picture from the day Avery was born. Matthew, Dave and Ruth are all piled onto Ruth's hospital bed, Avery crying in Dave's arms. All three faces are smiling down at the tiny bundle of blankets, baby powder, and joy.

For a moment I wonder what it'd be like to have that kind of love staring down at me, three people that love me equally and unconditionally, to be able to see the love in their faces.

Caleb-

I could see it in her face, the longing to just have that little girl be near her. I saw how she lit up when Avery smiled or laughed. As if I didn't already have enough reasons to love her...

I catch my eyes wandering down the path she chased Avery down and I quickly divert my eyes, but I'm not fast enough. Dave in leaning forward, hands clasped together in his lap, Matt is sitting on the arm of the recliner, his arm casually draped around Dave's shoulders. Both are giving me this curious, knowing smirk.