Happy Merry Everything (Charlie Barber)

Daddy Phase

"Wait, wait, wait...hold the fucking phone. What?"

It had been well over a week since Nicole drunkenly kissed Charlie at her wedding. Even now, you were unsure if she had done it out of spite, to get a rise out of you, or simply because she was three sheets to the wind. Whatever the reason, you had never felt more livid or more protective of your relationship with Charlie.

Jules sat across from you, cutting her eyes as she did her best not to spill the contents of her bag of chips. "So you're telling me this bitch straight up kissed him. Like mouth on mouth, hey how you doin', all up in his business sucked face?"

"That's usually what kissing someone means, yeah." She spun in her chair to retrieve the soda from her desk and turned the screen of her laptop out of view. "What's her address?" She asked, taking a sip.

You stared back, poking your fork into various pieces of your salad. "Why?"

Jules huffed at your question as she typed away at her keyboard. "The short answer is...for science."

"And what scientific purpose is this for exactly?"
"I'm testing a hypothesis."
"Which is?" you asked, taking a sip of your own drink.

"Will a bitch flip shit if someone mails her a glitter bomb..."

You nearly choked on your sparkling water. "You're not mailing our kid's mom a glitter bomb."

"Who said anything about mailing?" Jules asked, peering up over the screen. "I'm going to hand deliver shit this. Fuck with my friend? Nah, dude. I don't trust the postal service on this one. Hand delivery is the way to go." She continued to grumble as you watched her reach for a credit card. "Gonna cover all your shit in sparkles. Toodaloo, you conniving, man kissing, motherfucker."

"Jules."
"Please let me do this. Please. Seriously. Give me this one thing. You owe me this."

You guffawed. "For what?"

She made a face. "Um, I don't know. How about countless years of loyal friendship? Ghosts of birthdays past, giving you my last mozzarella stick whenever I have them, the time I got you out of that date with Creepy Fresh by faking an emergency..."

You shuddered at the thought. "I almost ordered an angel shot that night."
"Uh, yeah. I remember, but I also remember that you didn't have to because I'm fucking awesome. Now are you gonna give me this cunt's address or am I going to have to pay like $3 to some sketch as fuck website to get the same information." She sat for a second, staring blankly. "Did you say 'our kid's mom'?"

--

Since returning to the city, you and Charlie found yourselves giving extra attention to your relationship and each other. He hadn't verbalized his feelings since the night it happened, but you could always tell when Charlie was on edge. Wanting to let you know he was right there with you, he did what he could to maintain a dialogue, a line of open communication to discuss anything and everything. One evening in particular, you were nestled on the couch together; your head was in his lap. His fingers danced in your locks as he played with your hair. You twisted your body slightly to peer up at him only to find Charlie gazing fondly back at you.

"Can I ask you something?" He inquired mildly. "Of course," you replied, a tenderness in your voice. "Ask me anything."

He drew in a deep breath, exhaling through his nose. He was tense. "Do I touch you too much?" You huffed out a laugh, only because it felt like the silliest question in the world. Your countenance softened once you realized what he posed wasn't a joke.

"You're serious?" He nodded slowly, saying nothing. You moved to sit up right beside him. "Charlie..."

His eyes met yours as he took your hand in his own, his thumb worrying over your wrist. "Would you tell me? If I were touching you too much or made you feel like I was suffocating you somehow?"