5SOS Preferences

"I Hate You" (T)

LUKE

It had not been Luke’s finest day. In fact, if he had had the time to think back on all the days he deemed ‘the worst’, this one would have won over them all, made them look like easy Sundays spent on the couch. It was the first day he had ever spent alone with his two children and he suddenly realized how much you actually did for the family. He had always called you the backbone of the unit, but since you were gone for two weeks to help your parents back home, he was realizing just what it required to keep their family functioning and running smoothly.

Luke had it easy as the rock star of the Hemmings clan. He was gone most of the time and had a set schedule. You came with the kids to him and he got to be the backup parent, the fun Dad with special access to theme parks and the kind of attitude that allowed a king sized chocolate bar to be a meal. There was so much that he didn’t realize had to happen in order for his home not to completely fall apart.

That morning, the laundry machine wouldn’t stop growling. Every half hour, it barked from the basement while the dishwasher ran. He had his eight month old son strapped to his chest, sitting in his pouch, while he stood behind Leila Hemmings at the breakfast table, combing her hair back for what felt like the hundredth time. He still had so much to do and he was running out of time as she had her Saturday dance class to attend. They needed to be on the road in twenty minutes to make it on time and Luke was still holding onto hope they could do it.

“Ow!” Leaning forward, away from the hairbrush, the three year old girl shouted and reached up for her the back of her head. “You’re hurting me again.”

“I’m sorry, baby.” Luke grumbled, his attention back on her soft fawn hair. His mind was adding to the list of errands he had to run and places he needed to be all at once.

“Can I just do it?”

“No. You need to finish your breakfast.” Most of the things that came with being a parent surprised Luke, but how important it was for his kids to eat was something he hadn’t been expecting. The frustration he felt when Leila wouldn’t finish what was on her plate or when Devon wouldn’t take his bottle was unlike anything he had experienced and he had had to fight tooth and nail with record executives before. He would go toe to toe with any manager if it meant he never had to sit at the table and force his kids to eat again.

“I don’t like it.” Finally, Leila came out and told him, her tiny fork wrapped up under her curled knuckles. “It’s really milky…” She wiggled up her nose at the plate of very yellow eggs. They didn’t taste anything like the ones you made her.

Sighing, Luke didn’t have it in him to argue, “At least finish your orange.” He fought with the tiny black elastic band around his fingers instead, trying to pull it over her hair. He had never realized how difficult a pony tail was before.

As soon as Leila’s hair was done, Luke rushed around the table and went to the fridge to collect two bottles of pumped milk for his son and the ointment they had to keep cool in order to finish packing his diaper bag that sat open on the counter.

“I need a hair clip.” Patting on the top of her head, Leila called to him while picking up one her orange slices.

“You’ll be fine this time.” She wasn’t even dressed yet.

Staying quiet, Leila bit into her cut up orange piece, gnawing on the citrus slice with her front teeth and studying the cartoon fairies on her plate, dancing and flying beneath her breakfast.

“That’s not the right cream.” Watching her Dad go back and forth between two jars in his hand, Leila only spoke up when she saw him stuffing the vaguely blue one into her little brother’s bag. Leila spent every moment with you when Luke was off working hard. She knew how things were supposed to go because they all concerned her life.