My Brother Zach

A Few Years Later...

-dedicated to TheMagicsynthesizer-

Zach's hair has grown back better than anything an Abercrombie&Fitch model could have, but he insists on me putting coconut oil in it each week.

"There. Yup, right there," Zach says, leaning back against my knees. "Ah."

"Does it feel good?" I ask, rubbing it deep into his scalp.

"It feels amazing."

I smooth my hands over the thick black mess on top of his head, then screw the cap onto the bottle. "Done."

I get up and go to the bathroom to wash my hands. On the blue tiled floor is a wet puddle with a banana squished into it. I sigh, shaking my head, and scoop it into the bin with a tissue. Then I dunk my hands under the tap, and water automatically spurts out.

I got this feature installed when we were designing this house. Automatic taps, automatic flush, automatic everything, because it's more hygienic. Plus Abbily kinda blackmailed me into it and said she'd post photos of me snoring on Facebook if I didn't select them.

Even though I don't snore.

But, to be on the safe side, let's just say I went along with her plan.

I make my way back to the big living room, where Zach is still resting on the floor against the sofa, the TV glowing on the wall in front of him.

I plop down beside my brother and stretch out my legs, cringing at the wobble of my calves. I stopped going on the treadmill a few weeks ago, because I'd been so busy with Jazz, who I watch crawl over to Zach's feet, and bite hard on his toe.

"Jazz!" I exclaim at the same time Zach yells out. "Naughty girl!"

Zach groans and pulls his niece onto his lap. She giggles when he frowns at her jokingly.

"You think that was funny?" he asks, rubbing her nose. She giggles even more and he kisses her cheek hard, then stands up and throws her in the air.

"Zach!" I gasp, shooting up. He catches her, of course, but I feel my heart lurch in fear when she leaves his arms again.

"Don't do that!"

"She's a naughty girl, this one," he says, pressing his mouth to her head as she laughs. "But I can't resist her." Now Zach has placed her on his shoulders, where she sways dangerously.

I decide to stop being such an old lady and force a smile, which after a while comes much more easily to me. I laugh as Zach swings her around, and as my daughter beams at her uncle happily.

"Maybe it's a good thing I let Farro marry you, 'cause otherwise I wouldn't have an angel to babysit," my brother says, finally sitting down. I raise my eyebrows, settling into the sofa behind him and flicking through the channels until The Ellen Show pops up.

"You didn't 'let' Farro marry me, I chose to myself," I reply, glancing at Jazz, who is crawling over the cream carpet to her pile of bricks. I then notice little brown handprints everywhere, and groan.

"Za-ach," I whine. "I told you not to give her the chocolate!"

"She's too adorable," Zach replies. "I had to!" I grimace at Jazz, who giggles from where she sits in her bright pink and yellow dungarees. Her hair is dark brown, and although it's quite short, it falls over her eyes at the front.

"Look at that face," Zach cooes, and crawls over to her, lying on his stomach and pinching her cheeks. "So cute!"

I roll my eyes, then glue them to the screen as my brother and my daughter ramble away to each other.

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"So, when she's clean she's so 'cute' and 'adorable' and the 'bestest baby in the world', but when she does her business, someone can't even stand next to her," I huff under my breath. Then, I call out,"Zach! Throw me a nappy!"

"I don't know what a nappy is," Zach shouts back in a failed American accent. I know he's messing with me, but I yell back anyway, "Diaper then, you idiot!"

I hear a chuckle, then the pounding of feet as he runs into the room, holding out a nappy with his literally only his fingernails.

"Thank you!" I sigh in relief, then quickly clean up Jazz. She's tired, sleepily closing and opening her eyes.

"Do you wanna eat dinner?" I ask, and Zach nods immediately.

"It feels like ages since we last ate," he says, following me out of the room. I gasp and flick my head around.

"I just cooked a meal for you two hours ago!"

Zach shrugs, trying to take Jazz from my shoulder. I hold her away and rock her back and forth as we patter down the stairs.

"I'm a guy. I get hungry fast. Plus, you can't cook."

He's right, though. I can't cook. One day, I burnt the toast four times before Farro had to leave for work. Eventually, he said that he'd just pick up a croissant from the nearest bakery. I guess it was the easier option. The safer option.

"Where's Abbily?" Zach asks, strolling into the kitchen. His hands are buried in his pockets, and he leans against the counter, watching me pick up the phone.

"Out and about, as usual," I reply, dialling a number.

"She makes good lasagne," Zach comments with a slow nod, then pulls Jazz from my grasp and places her in the high chair.

"Shh!" I whisper, putting a finger to my lips.

"Hi, Juan? It's Liberty. Can I have two extra large pizzas? One vegetable and one..."

Zach is mouthing "pepperoni" excitedly. I smile at him, then order the exact opposite.

Suddenly Zach leaps on top of me and I laugh as we roll around on the floor, play-fighting.

And when I catch sight of Jazz watching us with a question mark above her head, I smile.

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Hey there! :)

We're nearly at the end of this book! :( Maybe two or three chapters left...but I'll probably do a sequel, if you guys want one, from Jazz's point of view. I've got quite a cool idea of what should happen!

Question: what's your favourite kind of pizza? Liberty likes vegetable and spicy ones, but Zach prefers pepperoni.

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Thank you all so much for your support, votes and comments! LYSM!

Byeee!!! :D