All of Me

thirty two • at last

• • •

If I had my own way, I'd sleep in on Saturday morning. Driving and meeting new people are two ways to guarantee exhausting me, my tiredness exacerbated by fooling around with Liam after a shower, so I hoped I'd get at least eight or nine hours sleep, but the choice is out of my hands. It isn't even seven when I'm awoken by a half-dressed Daria racing in and winding me when she jumps on my chest.

"Hi Storie!" she cries out, her knees digging into my stomach. It takes a moment for my words to come back with a choke.

"Hi, Daria," I say with a cough, blearily squinting up at her. It's still dark outside, way too early to be awake.

"You're here!" she cries, belly-flopping onto me and wrapping her arms around me, burying her hands under my head and tangling in my hair.

"Why're you up? It's so early."

"I had a bath with Mommy," she says, and Allie appears on cue, tying a bathrobe around herself with an apologetic smile when she locates her daughter. She hurries over, almost spilling out of the robe when she bends over to scoop Daria off me.

"Daria! I told you not to disturb anyone," she says, tutting and shaking her head. "I'm so sorry, honey. She's such a little imp, this one, always disobeying Mommy." She lets Daria slither to the floor, which means she clambers onto the bed again and tries to snuggle with me. I'm too tired and disoriented to stop her, and she grins with glee when she manages to burrow under my arm.

I'm just glad it was cool enough last night that I wore pajamas. I run warm and usually sleep in my underwear, if anything, with the window open. Liam's house is almost as old as the country, though, and I appreciate the lack of insulation, and the November chill in the air.

"If Daddy told you to get dressed, you'd be dressed by now," Allie says, though she doesn't sound the least bit annoyed. Daria knows, and she grins.

"You're not Daddy. You're Mommy." She has a cheeky little voice. She plucks at my nightdress, which is really just a huge men's t-shirt I got from Goodwill, and asks, "Why're you wearing a boy top?"

"Clothes aren't boys or girls, Dar. They're just clothes," Allie says. "Come on, give Storie some space. It's only six forty-five!"

"Mmm, give Storie some space," I echo. "It's too early. My on switch isn't working yet."

Allie peels Daria off me, though the kid is surprisingly strong, and takes her downstairs to make coffee. I roll over and tuck myself against Liam, who slept soundly through the whole exchange. I nuzzle my nose into the nape of his neck and breathe in his sleepy scent and when I pull the covers up to our shoulders and nestle beneath them, he lets out an appreciative sigh.

"Are you awake?" I whisper.

His voice is croaky when he says, "Not for long."

Within a minute, he proves himself right when his breathing steadies and deepens and the quietest snores escape him. It's less annoying than I ever predicted it'd be, and oddly comforting. It isn't long before I'm snoring again too, lulled back to sleep by the ungodly hour and the stability of Liam in my arms.

The sun has dragged itself from the horizon when I next open my eyes. Pale rays filter through the gap in the curtains, a cold breeze sneaking through the window that's open just an inch. I shiver and snuggle deeper into the bed, burying my face in the warm crevice between Liam's shoulder blades. I'm not ready to get up yet.

My phone buzzes. I ignore it. Then it buzzes again, and again, and I can't tell if it's successive messages or a call. Liam's voice vibrates the pillow, grunting at me to turn it off, so I blindly fumble for my phone and squint at the bright screen that shows a whole host of messages in the Sovanono group chat.