Chapter Text
April, 2000.
In retrospect, he had no idea how the fluorescent lighting hadn't woken him before the kick in the stomach. It wasn't a particularly hard kick but it was enough to rouse him into the world of the living once again, to bring him into a state of consciousness where he was able to ignore the punch to the bicep that followed. He counted to ten before attempting to roll over.
"I'm in charge and I say that it's time to wake up," came a voice, soft but determined. Did he dare open an eye and give away his only advantage in this situation? If he ignored her long enough, she might think he was still asleep. He hadn't given any sign of being awake. Maybe he could get another few hours in and make it up to her later. He chanced rolling over onto his stomach - a large shift for someone who was supposed to be asleep - and buried his face in a pillow. "Wake up!" The voice was more insistent this time, had risen a pitch or two in the few moments that had passed since the previous request. Just wait, he thought, hold out a little longer and you'll win this.
Small hands shoved at his shoulder, even their combined effort unable to move his deliberate dead weight. Another minute passed and he felt something shift beside him. There. She never had been one to put up with his bullshit. He slowly worked his arm out from where it was crushed under his chest until it was stretched out along the edge of the pillow. Another moment or two and she'd make an inevitable mistake. A quick swipe down of his arm as she tried to take a step forward and the girl collapsed back onto the mattress with a squeal that would have been loud enough to wake the neighbours, if the neighbours lived less than three miles away. He dragged the blankets up and over her and within seconds she was tucked in beside him, a scowl on her face and nowhere near asleep.
"What've I told you about sneaking up on me while I'm sleeping, little lady?"
"That you'll always win."
"I'll always win. Now go back to sleep."
"But Uncle Br -"
"Oh hell no, no whining this early."
"It's almost lunchtime!"
"You can't tell time."
"Mom left me in charge and I say it's almost lunchtime."
"You say a lot of stuff, huh?"
He mumbled his last comment into the pillow but finally, if reluctantly, turned his head and cracked open an eye to stare down the little girl and her far too mature arguments about what time it was acceptable for a grown man to sleep until.
She hadn't tried to kick off the blankets yet but it wouldn't be long before she made an attempt to abscond. If he'd taught her right - and he knew he had - she'd hang around just long enough to figure out his motives. She lay on her back, tucked in nice and tight by his efforts but clearly not happy about it. The scowl was her mother's. He'd hated that scowl when they were kids but on his niece, it was almost charming. It was cute as shit that she thought she'd ever get the upper hand in an argument like this.
"I know a lot of stuff," she said, the scowl switching almost seamlessly to a smug grin. He seriously regretted teaching her that one.
"Like what?"
"Like that I'm hungry."
"How hungry?"
"Very hungry."
"Toast hungry or pancakes and bacon hungry?"
He only threw in such a specific second option because now that he was awake, yeah, he was definitely pancakes and bacon hungry. There was incentive to get up. He didn't dare give that away though because if he did, within two days Rose would be throwing herself at him before nine in the morning begging for pancakes and the hell if he'd ever been the kind of guy to say no to pancakes. The kid was going to be a mastermind by the age of twelve at the rate she was going.
"Shape pancake hungry."
"Shape pancakes, huh? Which shapes?"
"Wizard hats. They taste best," she said after a moment of deliberation.
"Well scram for ten minutes and go get everything out of the cupboard," he sighed, feigning disinterest.
Rose scrambled out from under the blankets and jumped down off his bed, switching the ceiling light back off on her way out. Because you're awake now, she shouted back when he asked why. When he rolled over to turn off the alarm, which had been hopefully set for one in the afternoon, he realised that he'd already made the fatal error of underestimating her.
Certified evil genius by ten was definitely the way to go, he thought with a groan. Then again, that was six years away. She'd probably be working up to Presidential Candidature in that time.
He left his shades on the bedside table because Rose only ever laughed at him for wearing them in the house, but she was probably still too young to appreciate the inherently cool factor they brought. But the thought of her rolling her eyes at him for being stupid before he'd even had his coffee was enough to make him leave them there, no matter how reluctantly. While he'd thought that far ahead, the Baby One More Time t-shirt got him a worse look than the shades ever had when he walked into the kitchen.
"Is that Mom's?"
"No way, Britney is the bomb," he said.
"You like Britney Spears?"
"Gotta support my fellow artists, Rosie," he added, reaching for the pancake mix on the way to the fridge for milk. "Music is a fickle industry these days, shit hangs on your image rather than your talents and Brit's got herself one hell of an image."
"No one likes you," Rose said, making grabby hands at her uncle. He complied with the request and lifted her up onto the counter.
"Hella harsh there. I had to go into reprint so some people liked my cd."
"I like it," she said thoughtfully. "But you talk too much."
"I'll think about talking less on the next one," he said. "Hold this."
"Good. You suck."
"Thanks, I'll have to get that printed on the flyers for my next gig, it's a nice endorsement."
"You're welcome. When will Mom be home?"
"Tomorrow, I think. Maybe tonight. Definitely by tomorrow morning because I fly out that afternoon," he said, measuring out what was close enough to the right amount of milk for how much pancake mix he'd thrown into the bowl. "And if your mom isn't back by then, who's gonna drive me to the airport?"
"You can stay," Rose suggested, reaching over to give the batter a stir while he put the milk away. The spoon stuck to the mixture and dragged the plastic bowl across the countertop, where it balanced precariously on the edge.
"Jeez, thanks Rosie. But I gotta go and bring sick beats to the people. You know what happens if I don't? People die. People need my music or they die."
"They die?"
"Hell yeah they do, because they don't know what they're missing. Now go feed Jaspers before he does that thing with the dead birds."
He really hoped that Jaspers hadn't already done the thing with the dead birds, because the thing with the dead birds involved dead birds turning up in the living room, usually wherever anyone had favoured sitting the previous day. He turned on two burners and set out the frying pans, checking his cell phone while he waited for everything to heat up. There was a series of text messages that had come through in the middle of the night - b home b4 rosie gose 2 bed 2moz feed the c@ + b awake list keys in berlin, followed a minute later by *goes *lost xx rox - which he skimmed before throwing the Nokia back down onto the counter to finish charging.
Rose returned as he was finishing up the first batch of pancakes, dragging a slightly disgruntled Jaspers with her. She sat down at the table and shifted the cat to her lap, where he stayed, nuzzling her hand until her little fingers started scratching at his head.
"Looks like your mom's gonna be home tonight, kiddo. Should we make her a bitchin' welcome home dinner?"
"Can we have mac and cheese?"
"Like fancy mac and cheese?"
"No, normal mac and cheese."
"Eh, I don't see why not. My mac and cheese is pretty good."
Lifting the pan up from the burner, he flipped two pancakes out onto her plate and returned it to the heat. He picked up two slices of bacon, drained them, and added them to Rose's plate as well. With the frying pan already heated and the butter still sizzling, it didn't take long to finish his own batch of pancakes. He flipped them out, added the bacon, and sat down opposite his niece before covering the entire plate in syrup.
"What can we do today?"
"Shit, Rose, it's like eight in the morning. Slow down. We got all day to hang out, eat your pancakes."
"No it's not."
"Yeah it is."
"No!"
"Yeah it i - ah shit, fine. Smart ass," he said, conceding when he finally looked up at the clock. It read eleven thirty-eight. "How's about I teach you how to tell time today?"
She just grinned at her uncle from across the table with a mouthful of pancake and a lap full of cat. It didn't take a genius to work out that she liked the sound of that.
+++
"I like that song."
"Yeah, well it makes Uncle Bro feel stupid, sorry. Sabotage is a classic, appreciate it."
"Nah. What comes next?" Rose brandished the sheet of paper at him from her place on the stool beside him.
"You tell me."
"I don't know!"
"Yeah you do. Five, six, seven, what?"
"I don't know!"
"Well I ain't telling you again. Figure it out," he said. "You like this?"
Rose scrunched up her nose when he held out the detached marionette head, examining the drying paintjob.
"It's okay. That eye looks funny."
"Yeah, well your eye looks funny."
"Phone!"
The sudden screech made him want to hurl the head at the little girl tearing back through the basement towards the stairs; how she heard the tinkling tune of the cell phone from three rooms away he didn't know, but he followed close behind her and snatched the device back when she made a move to answer the call.
"Wassup?"
"I'm back in the USA and oh my god did you get my text last night? I was totally not even wasted, like, yeah, I'd been at a business dinner so I'd had like one or five wines but I wasn't wasted, you know? And everyone spoke German because I was in Berlin, right? I mean of course they speak German but they speak English too and honestly I think they speak better English than I do most days, but anyway. That text. I lost my keys somewhere, I think it was -"
"It's your mom," he said, pressing the cell to his chest to drown out their voices. Jesus Christ his sister could talk. They had at least a full minute before she stopped. "She's back Stateside already. Probably be home in a few hours."
"Can I say hi?"
"In a minute, hang on," he said, returning the phone to his ear.
"Dirk? Dirk! Are you even listening to me?"
"Course. You're almost home, lost your keys in East Berlin -"
"That's not even a thing anymore."
"- be home in like two hours."
"Hi Mom!"
"Tell Rosie I said hello, would you?"
"She says hi."
"Tell her I said that we had pancakes," Rose added, clawing at his leg to try and reach the phone.
"Tell her when she gets home," he said, then shifted his conversation back to the phone. "When will you even be here?"
"I'm in Chicago now and my flight leaves in forty minutes. Add in the drive home and that's how long I'll be."
"Hey, quit it, kid, I'm telling her. We're making dinner so you'd better not miss it."
"Tell me it's your mac and cheese, that shit is the fucking nectar of the Gods. If it's not I'm kicking you out."
"I ain't saying shit."
"You're the best baby brother a girl could ask for."
"And you threatened to kick me out."
"Never!"
"I'm pretty sure you just did."
"Nah, would never kick out my mac and cheese dispenser."
"Can't wait to see you either, Rox. Later," he said, pressing the button to end the call. "She'll be here for dinner."
"How long is that from now?"
"You tell me."
"But I can't!"
"Well get back downstairs and finish off those clock sheets I wrote for you."
"Make me," Rose said. As soon as Dirk raised an eyebrow at her, her face fell as she realised the scope of the challenge she'd just issued. She knew enough to know that he wouldn't back down, that he'd take the challenge seriously even though it was issued by a girl who didn't even stand as tall as his hip. She stood frozen in place, trying to work out the best route of escape from the kitchen. The basement stairs weren't an option because that was where he wanted her to go. The stairs going up were too far away, the couch offered no protection, and hiding under the table would be stupid.
She took half a step back as he leant forwards, only enough to indicate that if she ran, he would definitely give chase. Her foot shifted back further until she was a full step again further away.
"Want to take it back? I'll give you one freebie."
"No! I mean, yes! No!"
"Make up your mind, little lady. You don't want me to send Cal after you, do you? You know what he's like when he's mad."
"Take back! I take it back!"
"You ain't scared of Cal, are you?"
"No. I know you'll win."
"Well my legs are longer than yours, it's inevitable," he said, relaxing his posture. "You want to go work on the time telling anyway?"
"Carry me."
"What are you, three?"
"No I'm four."
"Shit, serious?"
"You had cake!"
"Oh yeah, that was a hell of a birthday cake. Jump up then."
Rose grinned and clambered up onto Dirk's back when he crouched down. He hooked his arms under her knees and hiked her up into a more comfortable position, ignoring the fact that no matter how many piggy backs he gave, she still had no concept of a chokehold.
He carried her back down to the basement to and into his workroom, dropping her back onto the bench beside his project. He sat back on his stool and handed her a pencil to keep working. Rose picked up the sheet of paper covered in his hand-drawn clocks and stared at it, elbows resting on her knees and feet swinging in the air, deep in thought. The marionette was coming along too, with Dirk completing the face less than an hour later. The only time either of them looked up from their work was when Bye Bye Bye came up on MacAmp and even then, it was only for long enough to belt out the chorus and insult Roxy's terrible taste in pop music when it was over.
Three equally embarrassing repeat performances later, Dirk set the amputated puppet limbs down and before Rose could protest he had her slung over a shoulder, the third worksheet of the afternoon fluttering down to the floor so she could pound his back with her fists in a useless and admittedly half-hearted attempt at asking to be put down.
"Okay," he said, throwing her down on the couch as he passed. "Mac and cheese, huh?"
"Yeah!"
"Okay, what do we need?"
"Mac and cheese!"
"Damn, I know that Rosie, but what do I need to make the mac and cheese?"
"Mac and cheese!"
"You a broken record or something?"
"No, mac and cheese!"
"You don't want the mac and cheese? But your mom's looking forward to it," he said, trying to look sad. It was an awful game to play with a child, he knew that, but it was too tempting not to run with it once in a while.
"No, you need mac and you need cheese to make mac and cheese!"
"Shit, why didn't you just say so? You get the mac, I'll get the cheese."
He wasn't about to ruin the illusion that all it took to make God-tier mac and cheese was the base ingredients themselves. Instead, he grabbed a few other things with the cheese and once the pot of mac was boiling on the stove, he started on the cheese sauce with Rose acting as his mostly competent assistant. Secret ingredients, Rosie, can't tell you or your mom or it's not a secret anymore. She rolled her eyes dramatically and he played the part of the wounded hero, begging her to apologize because his heart couldn't take the rejection, the whole scenario ending in giggles all round and an almost burnt saucepan full of cheesy sauce. The noodles were drained and tossed in, stirred, and the whole mess poured into a baking dish, covered in an unholy amount of extra cheese, and put into a hot oven.
"C'mon, it needs time now. Made with pure love but the oven's gotta do the rest. Want to play Pokemon Stadium with me, see if we can beat the Prime Cup?"
+++
Nothing got between Roxy and her baby brother's homemade mac and cheese. Nothing. She was almost entirely certain that if she was attacked by a bear between the company car driving her home and the front door, she'd be more concerned with the crispy top layer of cheesy goodness. Mac first, bear mauling second. Maybe comfort Rose in between because she hated it when her mom and her uncle fought over the last of the crispy edgy pieces.
But hey, a free ride was a free ride and Dirk knew better than to take that baking dish of golden wonder out of the oven before she was home.
The hour and a half trip from Watertown dragged on and eventually she asked if they could perhaps speed up a little, since she needed to make it home before her baby girl went to bed, but that excuse only went so far since the sun was still up. She sighed, loudly enough that the driver must have taken pity on her because the car shifted from 38 to a solid 40 miles an hour after her effort. She smiled her brightest smile in thanks.
When the car pulled into her drive, she insisted on getting her own bag out of the trunk but the driver wouldn't hear of it.
"Get inside and spend the time with your kid," he said, She smiled that smile again and thanked the driver profusely for his time. She'd left a tip in the car before closing the door behind her. She took her bag and turned toward the house taking the front steps carefully in the dusk light. She took a moment to drop the bag by her feet on the doorstep, clear her throat, and push up the sleeves of her cardigan.
"Dirk!"
Roxy called her brothers' name as loudly as she could, banging on the door with one hand while the other pressed the doorbell over and over. She repeated the process a few times, screaming for him to open the door and laughing when he feigned a struggle with the lock, snatching up her bag in one arm and Rose in the other after the front door was finally opened.
"Okay, wow, that trip went forever!"
"Mom, we had pancakes! Now we made mac and cheese!"
"I heard. And I could smell it as soon as I hit the state, you know momma loves her some mac and cheese," Roxy said, pressing kisses to her daughter's forehead as she dumped her travel bag in the doorway and kicked off her heels. "But yeah, that went forever. God, what day is it? It can't be Thursday, can it? I left on Sunday, so Thursday seems right but wow, how is it not next Monday already?"
"Shitty science field trip then?" Dirk asked, dragging Rose off Roxy so she could unpack her traditional shitty post-conference trip souvenirs.
"Hell no. Interesting trip and my paper went down about as well as I expected it to, so I've got a lot of follow up work to do to convince the rest of the community that I'm right, but I know I'm right so I just need to convince them. How long until dinner's ready, anyway?"
"Bout ten," Dirk shifted Rose so he was carrying her under one arm back through to the kitchen. Roxy followed, her stocking-covered toes grateful for the decision splash out on the wool carpet.
"I hope you made like six pounds of the stuff because I'm not sharing and you have no idea how hungry I am."
"I got a vague feeling."
"Mom, I learned time!"
"You what?"
"Uncle Bro teached me times!"
Roxy tilted her head to look at Rose, who was squirming against Dirk's hip, kicking the air and pressing her hands into his thigh in an attempt to break free. She giggled when her mother pulled a face behind his back, indicating that it was meant to be him all grumpy and serious.
"What times did you learned?"
"One o'clock, two o'clock, three o'clock, four o'clock, five o'clock…" Rose trailed off, stuck on the next hour. Instead, she pressed her fingers in harder to get the point across, her request to be put down now more of a demand. So as soon as they entered the kitchen he flipped her back upright and sat her down on the countertop. "The next o'clock, too. I don't remember."
"That's more than you knew when I left, baby girl. Momma's very impressed, telling time is super important," Roxy said, leaning against the counter beside the beaming girl. "You want your gift now or later?"
"Hmm, now," Rose said, even though they all knew the hesitation was a deliberate move.
Roxy made a big show of flourishing a hand out from behind her back, bringing out a fairytale storybook, an ornately designed from cover showing the more traditional Snow White escaping through the forest. Rose took the book carefully, eyes wide. She ran her fingers over the image on the cover and flipped it over, the golden tint of the page edges catching the light as she did. The back was plain in comparison, a hardcover with the faintest pattern etched into the covering.
"Now, it's not in English so I can't read you any of the fairytales from that one but this guy I know from the city was on the trip as well and he spends a hell of a lot more time in Europe than I do and could tell me that it's got all your standard fairytales in it like the one you've already got, so you're not missing out on the stories," Roxy explained to her speechless daughter. "You like it?"
"It's so pretty," Rose said quietly, tracing a finger along the outline of Snow White's hair.
"Where's mine?"
"I didn't think you'd want a book written for little girls," Roxy said. Dirk cocked an eyebrow, waiting for the inevitable. "I got you a doll instead."
"Aw, shit, Rox, you shouldn't have," he said.
"It's pretty gaudy and horrible, too. You'll love it."
He was already trying to work out how large a glass display case he'd need to construct to house such a passively-aggressive yet perfect gift when she presented him with a small wooden puppet that would in no way stand out from the rest of his collection.
"Shit," he said, examining the construction of the joints. "Might have a problem though, as sweet as this is."
"Oh my God, don't say it. Dirk, no. If you say it, I will smother you in your sleep. I'll kick you out and you'll have to move back across the country and I don't even care if that means I'll have to pay someone to look after Rosie when I'm away. Do. Not. Say It. No. Bad Dirk, worst brother. No," Roxy had a finger raised in warning, her eyes narrowed. She knew what was coming, knew there was no way to stop it, but it was at least worth the attempt. If nothing else, she was trying to teach Rose early not to let him get away with his shit, not to encourage his shit, because once he got started the shit just kept flowing.
"Mom?"
"This is between us, little lady," Dirk said, grinning at Roxy's aggressively-aggressive stance.
"Say it and I'll lock you outside covered in honey for the bears."
"Kinky," he smirked.
"No," she crossed the kitchen and prodded his chest, pink manicured nail jabbing in for emphasis. He stared down at her, only taller by half a head, straight-faced compared to her pseudo-anger.
"You know Cal always tries to kill the new arrivals," he whispered dramatically, staring directly into his sister's eyes.
She didn't hold out much longer after that, a snort of laughter bubbling up from behind the mask of fury.
"I'm not going to sleep for a week. Puppet massacres by my bed every night after dark. I'll wake up to limbs everywhere. Cal will go mad," he continued. Her lips pressed together in an effort to crush the urge to laugh. "You know what he's like once he's got a taste for stuffing."
"I hate you," she said, hand shifting up to slap him before she retreated, finally letting herself laugh when she turned around.
"Mom!"
"It's okay, Rosie, he was being a jerk."
"Oh, okay."
"That simple, huh?" Dirk asked, finally cracking a grin himself at the victory. It wasn't over, he knew that. Nothing was simply over in their family. Everything was fair game forever.
"Jerks deserve it," Rose said simply. She was still clutching the book to her lap as he pulled the mac and cheese from the oven and set it on the stovetop.
"But I'm not always a jerk. Do I deserve it pre-emptively? Say your mom knows that tomorrow I'm probably going to be a jerk about something. If she slaps me again now and then I'm a jerk tomorrow, are we even or is she the jerk for slapping me?"
"Huh?"
"No philosophizizing at the dinner table," Roxy interrupted before he could confuse the four year old any further.
"Why not?"
"Less talk, more mac," she said in response. She helped Rose down off the counter and watched her run through to the living room in order to safely store her new book away from the dangers of melted cheese. "You gonna get out the forks, Rosie?"
"No."
"Okay, let me try again. Get the forks out, Rosie."
"Fine," Rose made an attempt to stomp over to the cutlery drawer, but gave up after the first few steps. It was one thing to try and get the upper hand over one of them, but put her mother and her uncle in the same room and cities could collapse under the weight of their collective bullshit.
While she set out forks and arranged them neatly - three in total, after a slight shake of the head from her uncle told her that Cal would not be joining them - Roxy filled the water jug and placed glasses all around. It was a boring table, when it came down to it. Just three of the six places set, with forks and glasses and large bowls of macaroni and cheese served, a meal that was favoured more by the two adults than the child.
Even Roxy remained silent until almost half her bowl of cheesy mess was gone.
"When do you fly out?"
"Tomorrow at five. Fly into Chicago. I managed to pick up a gig there so it's not a complete waste of a stopover. Got a couple of gigs down the West Coast, Saturday in Portland, then the next weekend is Thursday in San Francisco and Friday Saturday in LA. They're all part of the same tour I got a gig opening for which is pretty sweet. I'll be there the week or two, depending. The guys they got in for the next weekend are pretty unreliable so I might be able to pick up their slack. Then first weekend of May I've got a full three nights booked in NYC so I'll be back in the state. Don't know if I'll be back here between the West and there though. Might be," Dirk explained between mouthfuls of burning cheese. "Gotta make it to the studio before June sometime as well."
"I've got a paper to deliver in Bern in July, be back by then?"
"Yeah, for sure. Anything before that?"
"Day trips for meetings in Seattle. Rosie can come on those, there's no lab work."
"Should we get some kind of calendar?"
"What for?"
"All this travel bullshit?"
"Nah, I'll just keep leaving you notes on the fridge."
"That'll be useful when I'm not here. Cool thought process, Rox."
"I thought so. Now fill this bowl up because I told you I was starving and you gave me none of the crispy bits."
"Yeah I did, don't start this bullshit with me."
"You did not you crispy mac and cheese bits hog!"
"You're insane."
"Crispy mac bits!" Roxy exclaimed, brandishing her bowl across the table. Dirk gave her a look - his 'I'm on to you' look - but snatched the bowl from her hands and refilled it with the goopy pasta mixture. Despite the scowl as he slid the dish across at her when he sat back down, there were plenty of crunchy, golden blobs of melted cheese in there.
Why bother making the worlds' greatest macaroni and cheese if you didn't share the best bits once in a while?
+++
"Yeah Rosie?"
"Why are you going away?"
"It's my job, you know that," Dirk said, pulling the seatbelt loose over his chest so he could turn around to look at Rose, latched into her seat in the back of his sisters' minivan. "My sick rhymes and chill beats bring happiness to the people."
"Maybe I should call that magazine from Texas and tell them what a loser you are. They should print that," Roxy butted into the conversation from the driver's seat.
"As if they'd believe you," he shot back.
"What's in your carry on?"
"The spirit of hip hop."
"Errr, wrong," she said, making the noise of a tv-show buzzer. "Try again."
"Discman, leftover mac and cheese, gum, and my wallet. All you need."
"And?"
"And nothing."
"Then why's the bag so big?"
"I don't have a small one."
"Cal's in there!"
"Thanks, Rose," Dirk said, turning back around and throwing himself against the seat. "You're supposed to be on my side."
"Side?"
"You like me better, remember?"
"No I don't," Rose said. "Bye, Cal."
"Haha, shit, sold out by a four year old. Good girl, Rosie," Roxy grinned into the rearview mirror and Rose giggled in response. "Maybe I should just call up MTV or something all 'oh hey, have you heard of Di-Stri? No? Wow, you're not the only ones! He thinks he's a big shot when all he's done is mix one album that sold what, five hundred copies?"
"That's not as shitty as it sounds."
"Oh, honey, it's shittier than you think it is and even you know that's pretty shitty."
"Are you patronizing me?"
"I'd never."
"What does that mean?"
"It means your mom hates me," Dirk said as he turned around to face his niece a second time.
"Oh, okay," Rose said, stretching out her legs to press her toes into the back of his seat.
"It doesn't mean I hate him, it means I think he's being dumb."
"Then why did you say the big word and not dumb?"
"Because actually calling someone dumb hurts their feelings."
"My feelings are so hurt," Dirk said.
"What are you gonna do, hug your puppet while you cry yourself to sleep?"
"Maybe I will."
"I'll add that to the list of shit to tell MTV when you're actually famous," Roxy said with a smirk.
"You're famous?" Rose asked, suddenly wide eyed.
"Nah. I just liked to think I am. Anyone can put out a cd these days. The shit you can do with computers is off the fucking charts insane. Soon enough there's gonna be kids with their own mixing equipment in their bedrooms and they'll never even have to leave the house to get themselves a number one single. And I'll be hella jealous of 'em the day that happens. Took me six years to even get someone to give me a chance."
"Okay, how about we talk about something else until we get there?"
"I spy!" Rose piped up with her suggestion from the back seat.
"Oh my God, no, not again."
"Why not, Uncle Bro?"
"Fine," he said with a sigh. "I spy, with my little eye…"
The game carried on for the next forty minutes, until they all got bored with repeating the same answers over and over. There wasn't much outside the car except for the road, woods, the sky, and the occasional bird. It had been redundant after the first three rounds but Rose seemed to enjoy showing off the fact that she knew almost all her letters, even though on her first turn she'd had to ask Roxy what letter 'car' started with.
They had turned into the airport not long after that and pulled up outside the small terminal building.
"You guys gonna come in?"
"Rosie?"
"Yeah!"
"How about we hang out with you for fifteen minutes, then you're on your own? I want to get her home before dinnertime," Roxy said, pulling the car back out onto the driveway and moving it across into the carpark. "Fair?"
"Fair," Dirk agreed. He flung open the passengers' side door before the car was even switched off and stepped out into the already cool afternoon breeze. He slammed it shut - which earned him a face from Roxy but whatever, her minivan was lame - and slid open the back door to let Rose free. She jumped down beside him as he slung the large backpack filled with cds and Lil' Cal over his shoulder and only just missed being hit with his suitcase because even at four, Rose was very aware that her uncle leaving meant at least two weeks would go by before he came back again. Once he had the suitcase handle in one hand, she grabbed his other and wouldn't let go until he had to tear her away to go through to the boarding gate.
She cried a little in the car on the trip home, just for a while. The tears turned into sniffles twenty minutes back down the highway and while Roxy's assurances that he'd only be gone a little while helped, her off-key singing along to the radio only seemed to make things worse. He'd be back in just four short weeks. He'd been away longer than that before.
+++
"Dirk! What the hell? Where the fuck have you been?"
"I'll explain. Come outside."
"It's after midnight."
"No fucking shit. Just get out here."
"You're telling me you're in the driveway?"
"Yeah. And we can do this over the phone if you want but it'll be easier if you just haul ass out here."
"Did you get a tattoo on your face or something? Is that it? Because that's hells of stupid, little brother, I've been telling you that since '85."
"I have absolutely zero tattoos that you don't know about."
"Dirk."
"Rox. Please."
"Fine, but you owe me."
"Yeah, we'll see."
Dirk sighed and ended the call, tossing his cellphone down onto the passengers' seat. He glanced over his shoulder at everything in the back and his stomach leaped at the sight. He had about a minute to figure out the best way to phrase the situation, despite having had the past two months to work it out. He'd barely even contacted his sister in that time and he'd been actively ignoring her calls for the last three weeks.
He didn't look up when porch light came on and the front door opened. Roxy stepped out in the pyjamas Rose had picked out for her the previous Christmas, arms folded over her chest and lips pursed, ready to tear right through him for dropping off the radar like that.
"What the fuck, Dirk," she snapped, leaning down to look in through the open window of his '89 Camry.
"You owe me fifty bucks and a case of beer."
"I what?"
"Backseat," Dirk said quietly, hoping that if nothing else, she would keep the racket down to anything less than absolute shitfit. He waited, but the shout never came. The silence was almost too much and he turned around in the drivers' seat to look at her for a reaction, any reaction. He'd take anything.
"Oh my fucking God, you're a felon," she whispered eventually, finally tearing her eyes away from the small, sleeping boy buckled safely into a carseat.