Page 12 of Emerson

“Unc Em brought you soup, baby. The one with the P’s in it.”

Penny toddles to the can, pik cow head tucked under her arm.

Emerson finally glances over at me. His cheeks are flushed. “Is it contagious?”

I turn back around on the couch, checking the time on my watch. Sabrina failed to mention that Penny wasn’t feeling well yesterday and took her to the doc. Told me as she handed her off this morning that her antibiotics were in the diaper bag and she couldn’t go to daycare.

“It’s been almost twenty-four hours since she started her meds. Should be fine.”

Emery steps over the blocks scattered over the floor, taking the long way around the living room. I quirk an eyebrow when he slows in front of the fireplace and makes a soft humming noise.

“Burn any pictures lately?”

“Huh?” I ask.

“I said, burn any pinewood lately?”

I just shake my head, resting it back on the cushion when Penny follows Emery. She stops when he does, watching him check out the crayon scribbles she managed next to the window when I wasn’t looking for a whole forty-seven seconds. Emerson snorts, points to it, and looks down at Penelope.

“This is terrible.”

Penny moos at him.

It’s been a long time since Emery has been over. He came over with the rest of his family shortly after Penny was born but only stayed long enough to see she was a real human before he high tailed it out of here. Before that, it was the night of his twenty-first birthday.

He used to come over all the damned time. For any reason. He once showed up at midnight in silk pajamas and hair wrapped around something over his head with a pickle jar, claiming he couldn’t open it. He was nineteen, freshly moved out of the Bennet house. His apartment building is on the corner of my street, which I suspect was intentional. His dad, Clint, made it very clear that he expected me to be at the baby Bennet’s beck and call, with me being the closest one to him.

I’ve been called to replace smoke alarm batteries.

Hang pictures.

Kill spiders, multiple times.

He once dumped an entire pot of chili in the toilet because he said the meat tasted too meaty. He was surprised when the toilet clogged.

He hasn’t called me for help since his twenty-first birthday.

He’s wearing a black romper, cuffed at the ankles with billowy legs. His neck is adorned with a stack of silver chains, and his dark brown hair is as perfect as always. Emerson Bennet is the prettiest man I’ve ever seen. He’s nothing like his brothers. Nothing like anyone I know.

My chest tightens when Emery rolls his eyes and picks up Penelope after she dropped pik cow to make grabby hands at him. He’s looking at her face to face now.

“Wow,” he says and clears his throat. He looks like he's in pain. “You look like Daddy, huh? How unfortunate for you.”

Penny yawns, murmurs, “Dada,” like she’s agreeing, and rests her head on his shoulder.

One would think someone just placed a cobra on him with how wide and alarmed his eyes get. “What is it doing?”

“It is tired. Almost time for her nap,” I say, trying not to chuckle. He looks a little helpless and a lot awkward. I can count on one hand the number of times Emery has held Penny. He maneuvers her in his arms until he has her by the sides and holds her out to me.

Penny rejects the idea, fussing and wiggling in the air. Emery is looking at me with a desperate glint in his eyes.

“You’re the chosen one, man.”

“Dillon,” Emery hisses, then cringes when Penny flings her head back. I’m about to step in, but he pulls her back to his chest with a huff. Penelope snuggles right back up, and he sits gently down on the couch. The end seat still has her bag sitting on it, so Emery is forced to sit right next to me.

“Unc Em,” Penny says, lifting her head up from Emery’s shoulder to inspect him.

Emery swallows, looking back at Penny. I may be imagining things, but I swear he changes his hold of her to something that looks a lot more like a hug. He tucks a wayward strand of her blonde hair behind her ear. “Yeah?”