Page 13 of Insta [FAM]

MIKA

Not for the first time, I’m confused as all hell when Dion’s door shuts behind me. I have no idea what to make of what just happened — and I can’t unsee her in a t-shirt, and panties. I glance back at her door one last time before walking across the road to where I parked my truck. It’s been a maddening few days, but I can’t tell if I’m angry with Dion, irritated with her or attracted to her. Might be all three, and if that's the case, I’m a different kind of fucked. I’m turning it all over in my head, even when I stop in my driveway. I let Nyree know I was going to Dion’s after work, but it didn’t exactly include having dinner with her, I just wanted to ask her to stop steamrolling me on Instagram. Not sure I succeeded with that, either. She seems determined to continue with her shenanigans. I think. Obviously, I’m not clear about a whole lot right now. When I walk into my house, I sigh, and hear Aroha’s laughter coming from upstairs. Nyree will be getting her pajamas ready. On the flip side — it’s actually the only side — I did have dinner. If that’s all I can take away from seeing Dion, was it a waste? Fuck knows. I remove my shoes and place them in the basket by the door just as Aroha announces that she’s done in the bath. Wandering upstairs, I poke my head into Aroha’s en-suite bathroom and can’t help but smile while Nyree dries her off, and gets her into her pajamas. I might have had a shit few days at work but coming home to a happy kid is always worth it. This life is everything I want for her, the reason I work so hard, even though money will never be an issue. Or an incentive. Aroha is my reason for everything.

“Papa!” She beams at me, and I chuckle, watching my sister trying to brush her hair when she’s more intent on coming to me.

“RoRo, let me just get your hair tied up,” Nyree huffs, amused.

Aroha bounces on her feet, impatient, and as soon as Nyree is done, Aroha runs to me. “I missed you today, Papa. Is the bunny lady still making your work hard?” I made the mistake of telling Nyree about the circus at the office while Aroha was having dinner in the kitchen two nights ago, and my sister, thinking it would be funny, showed Aroha the video of Dion running down the road in a t-shirt, and a pair of panties, trying to catch the ‘rabbit from hell.’ I pick her up and plant a kiss on her cheek. “That’s tickles,” she giggles, tucking her head into my neck. “You need to shave your beard.”

“I’m going downstairs,” Nyree says, going in for an Eskimo kiss with Aroha. “Sleep tight, iti. I love you.”

“Love you.” Aroha drops her head on my shoulder, and as soon as Nyree leaves, she yawns. “I sleep now, Papa.”

“Hmmm,” I hum, holding Aroha up with my arm, and using my free hand to turn her comforter. I lay her down, give her her Maui plush toy, and kiss her forehead. “You want me to stay with you until you fall asleep?”

“Is okay,” she yawns again, and rubs her eye.” I’m a big girl now.” Shaking my head, I give her another kiss, and savor the way she cups my cheek with her tiny hand. “I don’t get scared anymore.”

Be still my fucking heart.

“Sleep tight, puawai.” Once I’ve tucked her in, she closes her eyes, and I take just a minute to watch her. She’s growing up too fast, I don’t think I'll ever be ready for her to outgrow me completely. Leaving her door ajar, I walk back downstairs, where Nyree is packing away the dishes. She takes two beers from the fridge, and eyes me when I walk to the living room. She drops onto the couch beside me, and when the staring becomes unbearable, I ask, “What?”

“You were awfully late, big brother.” She sips her beer, and smirks. “Are you doing house calls now?”

“Hardly,” I scoff. “I needed to see Dion, and ask her to put an end to the Instagram bullshit.” I clear my throat. “And she happened to invite me in for dinner.” I see Nyree’s mouth drop open in my peripheral but keep my eyes on the television I have yet to switch on. Grabbing the remote, I decide it’s a good idea to have some kind of half-distraction while I have this conversation with my sister. It’s not like I can talk about this to my friends, they’re as fucking clueless about women as I am.

“So…you had a date?” I hate the way it sounds more like a statement, and not a question. And even more, I hate that I don’t know the fucking answer.

“No, it wasn’t a date.” I scratch my beard — Aroha’s right, it needs a trim, but I haven’t had time this week to do it because half of Ardsley, and the entirety of Dobbs Ferry, showed up at the clinic for three consecutive days. “Her UberEats delivery arrived the same time I did, and she just kind of invited me in and I stayed for dinner.”

Nyree slaps my arm, and faces me with her back to the arm of the couch. “Sounds like a date, if you ask me. Do you even know what a date is anymore?”

I frown and look at her out of the corner of my eye. “Yessss?”

“You don’t!” She laughs. After taking another sip of her beer, she says, “When was the last time you actually went on a date, anyway?” I open my mouth to reply, but Nyree quickly adds, “And going on a date with yourself does not count, Mikaere.” Groaning, I let my head fall back. “Seriously, Ny, you’re my baby sister, I don’t want to talk about that with you.” Talking about sex is off-limits, I don’t want to know what Nyree knows, even if she’s twenty-one. There are just some things a big brother doesn’t need to hear about.

“Don’t be such a pēpi about it. There’s no shame in admitting it’s been a while since you got laid, you know.”

“We’re not talking about this,” I mutter, taking a sip of my own beer.

“But you want to,” Nyree replies, and I’m sure if I look at her — yep, she’s smug.

“Fine,” I sigh. “It’s been a while, okay? And I have no fucking clue if having dinner with Dion counted as a date. I mean, she wasn’t even wearing any pants, and I’m starting to think she has an aversion to them.”

Nyree’s eyes widen, and she gulps, rather than sips, her beer. “No pants? She sounds as loony in person as she does in her videos. You should totally do her.”

“Whoa, what happened to helping me figure out if tonight was a date? You went from like zero to a hundred real fast, Ny.”

“Fine.” She moves around, and gets comfortable, as if she’s about to divulge all of life’s secrets about women to me. “You said she invited you in when the Uber guy got there?” I nod. “And she asked you to stay for dinner, and wasn’t wearing pants?” Nyree tucks her lips around her teeth, and I can tell she wants to laugh.

Pulling a hand through my hair, I growl, “I know, it sounds absurd, right? There’s no way it was a date.”

“Did you like having dinner with her?”

“We spent most of the time arguing, Ny. She refuses to stop the Instagram thing, even when I explain why her posts don’t look good for me, and she just drives me mad, actually.”

“Have you ever stopped to think that she’s doing it because it drives you mad? Women only behave that way when they want a man’s attention, and I suspect she does.”

“But why? It’s not like I’m famous here, so it’s not that. And I think there are far better ways to get my attention than spouting crap on social media and flooding my practice with a bunch of crazy people.”