The Setup and the Substitute by Jiffy Kate
Chapter 13
Owen
I’m alwaysready to be back home after a road trip, but this time is a million times worse.
Ross was probably ready to kick me off the plane on the flight home because I was fidgeting so much.
Nothing has been able to calm the anxiety I’ve been feeling. It’s like the second last night’s game was over, my job was done and all I could think about was getting back home to take care of my family. If I could’ve grabbed an earlier flight, I would have.
Mack had the flight attendant bring me a beer.
Johnson, one of the other relief pitchers, offered me a sleeping pill.
But I don’t like taking meds unless they’re absolutely necessary and I don’t want to be out of it when I get home.
I need to be one hundred percent present.
My knee finally stops bouncing as the driver pulls up to my house. Just seeing it, nestled behind the trees with a few lights poking through the blinds—knowing my kids are safe inside—puts me at ease.
After thanking the driver and grabbing my bag, I jog up to the front door and unlock it.
The second I walk through the door, I’m hit with the familiar scent of home. You know how every house has a certain smell to it but you don’t really notice it until you’ve been away for a while?
I can’t even put my finger on exactly what it’s composed of, but the moment I smell it, I know I’m where I’m supposed to be. And today, it’s mixed with a faint hint of that sweet scent I’ve come to associate with Sophie.
Dropping my bag at the bottom of the stairs, I walk into the kitchen. It also smells good, like Italian food. That’s when I notice the pan of lasagna on the stove that looks like it was pulled out of the oven not too long ago.
But still no sign of Sophie or the kids.
As I walk down the hallway leading to their bedrooms, I hear the faint sound of a television coming from the spare bedroom where Sophie sleeps and that’s where I find them—all three of them—asleep on Sophie’s bed.
From the looks of things, they’ve been camped out here for a while. Coloring books and crayons are on one nightstand. Both kids have the stuffed animals I sent them in the care package. There are also two cups with lids and straws on the nightstand, along with a mug that’s half full of what looks like tea.
A Disney movie is playing on the television with the volume turned down.
Walking closer to the bed, I start to feel like a creeper, but I can’t help it. It’s kind of like when the kids were babies and I’d come home when they were asleep and I’d have to wake them up so I could see them.
My fingers itch to brush a piece of hair off Sophie’s forehead, but I resist.
Molly is tucked under one of her arms and Ryan is snuggled up on the other side.
They’re so cute I’m tempted to take a picture on my phone, but then Molly stirs. Her eyes slowly open and she blinks a few times, trying to get the sleep out.
“Daddy?” she asks, her voice still hoarse and raspy from being sick.
“Hey, Molls,” I whisper, kneeling down beside the bed. “How are you feeling?”
She slowly smiles and then scoots over to me, throwing her arms around my neck. “Better,” she says, squeezing tightly. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too,” I tell her, smoothing a hand down the back of her head. I’m relieved that she looks so much better than the last time we FaceTimed. Her color is back and she doesn’t feel like she has a fever.
While holding Molly close, I take a moment to look at Sophie again. I stiffen when I realize she’s just woken up and is watching me with eyes that don’t seem quite awake yet. When a small smile stretches across her face, I relax a bit, feeling a little less of a creeper.
There’s a moment where we hold each other’s gaze and my internal struggle to think of Sophie as only the nanny kicks into gear again. Her eyes are clear and bright now but the rest of her is soft and inviting and I want so badly to melt into her.
Why must she be so fucking tempting?
“Daddy!”
Ryan’s raspy yell startles all of us and I barely have time to brace myself before my son throws himself at me, tackling both me and Molly. Thankfully, Molly isn’t angry and is laughing along with me and Sophie, and the relief I feel right now is overwhelming.
I’m back with my family and we’re okay. Nothing else matters.
Sophie sits up and carefully crawls out of the bed. “I’m going to get dinner ready. Y’all take all the time you need.” She winks at me before leaving and I can’t help but watch her until she’s completely out of sight.
“Did you win your games?” Ryan asks.
“We did, little man. It was a great series but I really missed you two. I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you got sick.”
“That’s okay,” Molly assures me. “Sophie took care of us.”
Hearing Molly say that, even though I already knew it to be true, sets my mind at ease in a way I didn’t realize I still needed.
I finally made a decision that hasn’t completely backfired on me and filled me with regret. Besides joining the Revelers, of course. That was the move that set me on the right track and I’ll forever be grateful to Buddy for giving me this chance.
The rumble of Ryan’s stomach causes us all to laugh and I start tickling them both to keep the laughter going. It’s the best sound in the world. Once they’re breathless and begging for mercy, I stand and tell them it’s time for dinner.
“Can you carry us?” Molly asks.
“Both of you?” I ask, incredulous, knowing I was going to do it anyway.
“Both of us!” Ryan tries to yell again, his voice still scratchy. It’s adorable and heart wrenching at the same time.
“Alright, you monkeys, let’s do this.” I secure each of them onto the sides of my body before leaving the room, needing to walk sideways through the door. Although I could carry them like this all day, I pretend they’re getting heavy as we approach the kitchen.
My breath catches when I see Sophie standing by the kitchen island, plating up the lasagna and garlic bread I saw earlier. There’s something about us, the four of us, in this moment that feels… right and I don’t know how to process it. The kids and I never had this with Lisa—ever—and the guilt I feel overrides the promise and hope trying to break through.
I mentally kick myself for briefly losing focus then set the kids down.
“Can I help you with that?” I ask.
“You can take the plates to the table, if you’d like. I’ll fix our drinks and be right there.”
The kids and I are all seated at the table when Sophie walks in with a tray holding four glasses of water.
“Would you like some wine or something else more adult to drink?” she asks me.
“Sure, but I can fix it myself. What would you like?”
“Oh, I can’t drink because of the antibiotics,” Sophie answers and I feel like an idiot.
“Shit, I forgot, sorry.”
“Language, Daddy!” Molly scolds and my chuckle clears away the brief awkwardness in the room.
We all get settled and tuck into our food and the room fills with a comfortable silence. Again, I’m reminded how normal this must be to other people but so not to us. Typically, the kids and I eat in the kitchen or family room because it’s more casual but being here in the dining room doesn’t feel stuffy like I assumed it would.
It feels good.
After we finish eating, we all pitch in to clean up, making the task quick and easy. Or as easy as can be expected with two small kids involved.
Sophie still looks a little run down, so I offer to give the kids their baths while she relaxes on the couch. I also just want to do it because I love it and I’ve missed it this week. Bath time has always been a special time to reconnect with Molly and Ryan, a time to have some great conversations while also playing and getting clean.
When bath time is over, I send the kids to tell Sophie goodnight before I tuck them into their beds. It doesn’t take long before they’re both sleeping peacefully and the house is quiet again. I’m walking to the family room when I realize I’m in the house, alone with Sophie, for the first time ever. Outside of my mom and sister, there hasn’t been a female adult presence with us in a very long time and I don’t want to make it awkward.
Note to self: don’t walk around the house in your underwear.
But what if Sophie walks around the house in her underwear?
I know she’s more professional than that but I also want her to be comfortable here, just not that comfortable. And now the thought of Sophie in her underwear has me feeling very uncomfortable, specifically in my pants.
Fuck.
As luck would have it, that’s when I turn the corner into the room and run straight into Sophie.
My arms wrap around her on instinct as she grabs the front of my shirt. An adorable “oof” escapes her mouth and I want to kiss her so badly but I manage to control my urges and take a step back once I’m sure she’s not going to fall.
“I’m so sorry. I was just coming to tell you the kids are asleep and I think I’m going to do the same. Thanks, again, for doing such an amazing job with them this week. I am sorry you got sick, though.”
“Occupational hazard,” she says, shrugging. “All things considered; it was still a great week.” Sophie walks past me then glances back over her shoulder. “Good night, Owen. Sleep well.”
Sleep well.
Yeah, right.