Page 50 of The Reason I Married Him
Wyatt looks up from the floor. “I’m sure you would,” he says.
Ryland jogs down the stairs, freshly showered and wearing comfy clothes just like me. “Oh hey, pizza is in the oven. Should be done soon.”
“Great, need me to do anything?” I ask.
“No, I’m good. Just going to set the table. Hey Mac, go upstairs, go potty, and wash your hands.”
“But I don’t need to go potty,” she whines.
“I understand you don’t need to go potty, but I bet there’s pee inside you that needs to come out.”
“No, no pee.” She shakes her head defiantly. What I’ve heard from people around town when I talk about Mac is that four is one of the worst years to parent because they really like to hold on to that independence and defiance. Not a bad thing, but boy oh boy when you try to get them to do something, it’s really hard.
“Okay,” Ryland says. “Then don’t go potty. That’s your choice. I just hope the pee goblin doesn’t get you.”
What the hell is the pee goblin?
“If it does, I’ll zap him with my zappers,” she says, holding out her hands and curling her fingers.
“Pee goblin is immune to zaps.”
“He is?” Mac asks, looking almost stunned at that new information.
Ryland nods. “Yup. He’ll come for you no matter what.”
She sighs. “Fine, I’ll go potty.”
And then with her head turned down, she drags herself up the stairs to go to the bathroom.
“What the hell is the pee goblin?” I ask.
Ryland places his hand on the counter as he leans against it and says, “Don’t judge me, but it was something she came up with when she said she peed her pants one day at school, that the pee goblin came to get her. And well, I ran with it.” He shakes his head. “I’m not perfect, just trying to get the girl to go pee so shedoesn’t get an infection. Jesus Christ, she’s a camel. She holds that pee in longer than anyone I know.”
“I like the pee goblin,” Wyatt says as he removes his ninja mask and looks me up and down. “You look nice, Aubree.”
Uh . . . what is he doing?
I stand there, stunned and confused because why would he say that in front of my brother? Unless . . . this is part of his scheme.
“Aren’t you going to say thank you?” Ryland smirks.
“No,” I say as I move toward the kitchen and grab the napkins to help set the table.
“Let me get that for you,” Wyatt says, coming right up behind me and taking the napkins. “You had a hard day on the farm. Just look at that sunburn. Do you need me to get you any lotion for it?”
Wow, and the Oscar goes to . . .
“I just put some on, and I don’t need you?—”
“Uncle Ry Ry, I’m pooooooping!” Mac shouts from upstairs.
“Great,” Ryland mumbles as he moves past us. “Can you finish setting the table? I have to tend to my niece, who likes company when she poops.”
At times like these, I thank Cassidy for not listing me as Mac’s legal guardian.
Once Ryland is up the stairs, Wyatt walks up to me and says, “Want my help?”
I turn toward him and reply, “What I want you to do is to leave this house and never return.”
