Sometime later, Alice wasn’t sure how she ended up in a tee shirt with Coast Guard across her chest, but she snuggled against Nick with a long sigh. They had talked and whispered and laughed and made love again. It was after three before she remembered the numbers on the clock fading into nothing.
Alice stirred as the sun was beginning to sparkle in the fog. Pale lashes blinked slowly, her stretch curtailed when she felt the very warm body next to her and the unfamiliar muscles complaining. She eased carefully from the large bed, gathered clothing scattered throughout the big room and slipped quietly into the bathroom.
Nick had a beautiful house, she thought, slipping her feet into the heels and running damp fingers through her hair. She was walking down the long hall when she noticed the second bathroom and a movement off in another room.
A room with a low gate at the door.
She pushed lightly on the door and stood immobile, staring at a miniature Nick, sitting cross legged in the center of a small bed. He had a book open on his lap and was tracing the letters with his fingers. Dark eyes met the quizzical silver grey stare without wavering.
“Hi.”
“Hello,” Alice couldn’t stop staring. “My name is Alice.”
“My name is Matthew,” he replied, closing the book.
“May I come in?” She saw surprise on his face but he nodded, her fingers opening the gate and stepping into the room. She extended her palm. “How do you do, Matthew.” He put his hand in hers, grinning when she shook it lightly. “Then you say, I’m doing very well, thank you.”
“I’m doing very well, thank you,” Matthew repeated with a broader grin. “Did you sleep over?”
“I believe I did,” Alice confessed, sinking slowly to the floor and the colorful blocks spread out on the carpeting.
“Gran’ma says daddy shouldn’t have sleep overs…”
“Then I think it best that gran’ma isn’t here at the moment, don’t you?”
“Yes. Can you build a tunnel?” Matthew slid off the bed, joining her on the floor on his belly, watching.
“Hmm…tunnels are rather difficult…but I might be able to manage a bridge…” Alice began stacking and rearranging the blocks.
“I think it’s okay for you to sleep over,” Matthew announced with a nod.
“You do? Why is that?”
“Gran’ma says daddy can’t have girls sleeping over, but you aren’t a girl,” he declared simply.
“I’m not?” Alice wrinkled her nose at him.
“No…those aren’t girl shoes,” he scrambled to his feet and went to the book shelf next to the head of the bed. “I saw them…you’re a princess…a fairy princess…see?” He brought the book to her, opening it to the pages with a collection of fairies flying around the flowers. “That’s you…”
Alice looked into the book at the blonde fairy he pointed to, her dress very similar to the one she wore and her shoes, crystal.
“Can you fly?”
Alice tipped her shoulder toward him. “I seem to have left my wings at home.”
“Did you meet daddy at the ball? He was talking about going to the ball with Aunt Delia. Was it like Cinderella’s ball?”
“It was very much like that…there were so many people dancing and having fun,” Alice moved the blocks around. “There…a very nice bridge…and I suppose a little tunnel…” She watched Matthew set the book on the bed, dropping to his belly and driving little cars beneath the bridge.
“I don’t like big tunnels…it’s dark in there…”
“We shall make certain we have lots of lights in our tunnel,” she promised, her hand out to brush the dark brown hair from his forehead. How could Nick not mention his child? Did he think she would run because he was a single father? She shoved the thoughts aside. “Perhaps you should get dressed and help me make breakfast…does that sound like a good idea?”
Alice laughed softly at the immediate nodding. He was on his feet, tugging and struggling with getting his shirt off. She helped and tossed it to the bed.
“What would you like to wear today?” She stood up and opened a drawer, noticing the surprise on his face.
“I can pick?”
“Of course you can pick,” she watched his little fingers going over the collection of colorful shirt, pulling a bright green one from the bottom. “And jeans?” He did the same thing, selecting a pair of black cargo pants from inside.
“I like these pants…daddy wears pants like this,” he told her with a grown up nod.
She opened the gate and they walked down the hall, hand in hand to the second bathroom. Alice waited politely outside, helping him with the clothing when he pulled the door open to her. “You’re looking quite handsome today, Matthew. Very good choices. Now…what shall we make for breakfast?”
“You have pretty words…” He said as they went into the kitchen. He didn’t protest when she lifted him to one of the high stools and eased it next to the breakfast bar.
“Thank you, sir…that’s a very nice thing to say,” Alice opened the fridge and peered inside. “Well…first…juice…do you like scrambled eggs?” She laughed at the rapid nod. “And cheese? And toast…”
“Daddy doesn’t make eggs for breakfast,” Matthew confided, his little legs swinging back and forth.
“What does daddy have for breakfast?” Alice quickly got the pan hot, added some butter and whipped the eggs. Bread went into the toaster and she watched Matthew’s face with a laugh.
“Coffee…lots of coffee,” Matthew said in a dad like voice.
“Well…short people shouldn’t have coffee…at least, not a lot. A sip now and then is alright, I think,” Alice poured juice for her and milk into a cup for Matthew. “I like frosted coffees…it’s like ice cream coffee…very yummy.”
Alice buttered the toast and cut it into small pieces, adding some of the eggs and covering the others on the stove. She put the plate and fork out for Matthew and was peering into the fridge for jam.
“Well…I do like marmalade with my toast…however…we shall settle for cherry jam this morning,” she brought out the jar and spooned some onto the slice of toast. “Would you like a taste? It’s quite good,” she assured him, cutting off a small bite and handing it to him.
“Tastes like pie,” he said in approval, quietly eating his eggs.
“Yes…yes, it does taste like pie,” she agreed. “How old are you, Matthew?”
“Three…gran’ma says I’m not very big. She says daddy is feeding me the wrong food,” he parroted between bites.
“I don’t know about that,” Alice poked his pudgy belly with one finger. “I think you’re eating quite well…” She smiled at his giggle.
“Do you think we can go outside? On the beach?”
“I don’t see why not…it’s quite warm out…when you finish your breakfast, we shall test the air and play for a bit,” Alice promised, slathering another slice of toast with cherry jam before she began cleaning up the kitchen.
She found two small towels and used them to tie up the sides of her dress, slipped out of her shoes and stepped onto the large deck with her hand firmly in Matthew’s. It was a very warm Saturday morning, she decided, lifting a brightly colored ball from the deck and tossing it into the sand.
“Can you play soccer?” She saw his head shake quickly from side to side, his eyes wide in expectation. “Well…every smart young man must learn to play…so…”