Kiwis | Harry Styles

Thirty-Four

I breathe a huge sigh of relief as the sound of the basketball thumping on the wall of the house finally stops. It feels like Mac has been out there for hours rather than the forty-five minutes that have actually passed. My fingers rub against my temples and I turn my attention back to the computer screen. 

"Job allocations," I murmur to myself, trying to get my brain to focus on the job at hand. I quickly pair up the assignments where a client has requested a specific photographer and then highlight the remaining ones so I can see them more clearly. I divide the modelling portfolio jobs equally between them both and scan over what is left as the door to my office creaks open. Assuming it's Madison, she hasn't been far from my side in the few days since Harry left, I continue with my work. Hopefully, she can sit quietly until I can at least get this task completed. 

The wheels on my husband's office chair rattle and my eyes snap in that direction when I hear my son breathe out a loud sigh as he sinks into it, sending it sliding along the tiled floor. "I miss Dad," he groans. His feet push against the floor as he sends himself gliding around the room. 

"In general or is there something specific bothering you?" I ask as my fingers grasp the arm of the chair and pull him back towards the desk. "Be still please, I can't concentrate when you're slipping and sliding across the floor." 

"Both?"  He glances up at me as if waiting for me to tell him it's the right answer. He tucks himself under the desk at Harry's side, "I was trying to practice but nobody can help me. You can't cause of the babies and my sisters and cousins suck," he scoffs. 

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I can drop you off at Taylor's in a little while, if you want?" 

"Nah. Can I call Dad?" His little body swivels towards me and I can't help but giggle when I realise he's slid his feet into a pair of pale pink loafers Harry must have abandoned under the desk. I wonder how long it'll be before my baby will be able to physically fill those shoes, probably way too soon and then my heart twists at the weight my son places on his shoulders of trying to live up to the man whose feet do fill those shoes. I wish I could make him see that as far as me or his Dad is concerned he already fills them easily.

"You know, they look good on you, do you like them?" I roll my seat across the floor and wrap him in a hug, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. 

"They're actually comfy, do you think I can have purple ones? Metallic purple! or maybe lilac! I'm gonna ask Dad." He grins as I turn on Harry's computer. I watch as he signs himself into FaceTime and as he brings up his list of contacts I quickly scan it to make sure it still consists of only the people Harry set up for him. 

I try to get back to my work as the annoying chirping tone starts and my son begins tapping his feet off the floor. 

"BUD!" My husband answers with a yell. "Everything okay?" 

"Hi Dad! Are you busy?" 

"Never too busy for you, you okay?" I can't stop my eyes from drifting towards the screen, Madison and I had facetimed him this morning but I am already missing his pretty face. My lips curl up into a smile the screen as I catch my husband waving off whoever is trying to get his attention and it makes my heart inflate. I love that the kids always come first. 

"I'm fine. Just missing you. Is the stage all set up properly? Everything safe?" Mac pulls his feet up to tuck them under his body and the loafers fall to the floor with a clatter. 

"What was that noise? Yeah. Everything is good, bud. Working as it should." 

I watch as he stares at his Dad in confusion for a second, his brows knitted together and his lips in a tight pout. "THE SHOES!" he exhales. My heart jumps into my throat as he almost smacks his head against the edge of the desk. "Do you think you can find me purple shoes like these? Like exactly the same, I want the fringes, just purple. Metallic purple ones would look awesome or maybe lilac, what do you think?" His words hurtle out at a million miles an hour as he waves his Dad's shoe in front of the camera.