“It’s okay, I’m awake now.” She breathed deeply and hummed. “What’s cooking? It smells divine.”
“Mum’s scones. She sent the recipe through for me when Hannah asked for biscuits, since we didn’t have the ingredients.”
“Oh, you funny girl. Biscuits are a Sunday favorite,” Keeley explained, and ruffled Hannah’s hair. Her daughter shot her a mischievous grin. She added, “I usually make them after church on Sundays.”
I was officially wrapped around a toddler’s finger, and I wasn’t even a little bit upset about it.
“How old is Hannah?” I asked.
“She just turned two.” She smiled indulgently at her daughter, and Hannah jumped up and hugged Keeley, covering her legs in flour and milk goop.
“Ew,” Keeley groaned exaggeratedly and picked up Hannah. “We’re going to have to hose you down. You’re such a mess,” she teased.
“No. Baff,” Hannah instructed her mum, her face deadly serious.
“Come on, sweet pea.” I held my hands out, and she leaned over for me to take her. “We’ll get you all sparkling clean for Mum. Now, I don’t remember being invited to your birthday party. What do you think—should we have another one?”
“Yas! And cake and sheep.”
“Of course we’ll have cake. You want sheep at your birthday too?”
“Yas.” She nodded, and I grinned.
“Old McDonald’s Farm it is. I’ve got the perfect place as well.”
We didn’t have a tub, so Hannah had to shower, but she thought it was the best thing since sliced bread. It was rainingandshe could jump in muddy puddles—more water ended up outside the shower, including all over me, than down the drain, but she giggled the whole time. I counted that as a win, and whenthe kitchen timer went off, Keeley stuck her head in to tell me that she’d pulled the scones out of the oven.
I had Hannah mostly dry and dressed in a pair of brown corduroy overalls and a white long-sleeved top with brown sheep printed on it. I was sitting her down to try a scone when Keeley walked in after drying the bathroom floor.
“I’m not sure how to care for her hair,” I said. “Can you show me?”
Keeley smiled wider than I’d ever seen her before and held up a bottle of hair product and a brush. “It’s taken me a while, but I think I’ve figured it out. The trick seems to be to only wash it once or twice a week. I’ve got special shampoo, so it doesn’t strip the oils out of Hannah’s hair, and I use this leave-in conditioner daily.”
She showed me how she rubbed the conditioner through the drying lengths, taking care not to tangle Hannah’s hair.
“It’s really thick, so it takes quite a while to dry, but that usually gives me plenty of time to condition and brush it.”
Keeley gently divided Hannah’s hair into sections and gripped it tightly halfway down. “You have to brush small pieces at a time and start from the ends, not her scalp, otherwise it’ll tangle. I hold it like this so if a knot pulls, I’m not ripping it out of her scalp.”
Hannah wasn’t bothered at all by what her mum was doing. She happily sat and ate, stuffing pieces of the scone into her mouth and humming a song I didn’t know.
Keeley ran the brush through her hair, gently teasing the knots out until she could run it the full length of each section. Hannah’s hair was drying fast, and once she had half her head brushed, Keeley gathered it in a loose ponytail and pushed it to the side. She repeated the process with the other side until all of Hannah’s hair was fluffy and knot-free.
Once she’d finished brushing, she gathered Hannah’s ponytails at the top of her head and used an elastic string to tie each one. “We don’t want to tie it too tightly or it hurts, doesn’t it, sweet girl?”
“No, no hurt,” Hannah replied as she shoved the final piece of buttered scone into her mouth.
Hannah grinned, and I had to snap a photo of her. She had the cutest little puffy pigtails atop her head, and her smile was adorable.
“Now that her hair is longer, she usually sleeps with a satin bonnet on so it keeps as much moisture in her hair as possible and doesn’t tangle.”
“More, peese,” Hannah said, banging the table.
“Absolutely, sweet pea.”
I cut and buttered another scone, then popped it on her placemat just as Bray stumbled out of the bedroom, naked as the day he was born. He was rubbing his temples and had dark circles under his eyes. My heart cracked, aching as I watched him struggle. I couldn’t help going to him. He was in pain, and I needed him to know he was being doted upon.
Midnight stirred from her spot on the backrest of the sofa, stretching, and like a premonition, I could see what she was about to do. I charged forward, lunging for her as she launched herself at Brayden.