My name's Michael, and I've been taking care of my best friend for some time now; for around 4 years now.
My best friend is Katie, and she's is a mother of 2 but her abusive husband left her. I've became her provider and father figure for her children.
Not that I mind, as we've been friends since childhood, and I love her kids like they are mine, and they're just adorable. Though, honestly speaking, I'm kind of sad they aren't mine.
Back on my introduction, I'm working as Senior Banker, making six figures, so I'm living good, and have more than enough to share with Katie and the kids.
Some might say that I'm 'beta' for taking care of another man's kids, but they fail to realise that they're my best friend's kids as well, and they need a father figure or they'll become a furry or trans; or in worst case scenario, maybe a school shooter. Honestly, I don't know which is worst.
Anyway, as I'm working on some paperwork, the door to my office opens.
"Come in." I say, and a woman opens the door, but only peeks her head in.
"It's lunch time. We're heading down to Subway quickly. Wanna come?" She asks.
She's Anna, and we're good...acquaintances, but we're not really close. But it's good working with her; she's a good workforce, helping out anyone when possible, and is smart.
"I can't but..." I pause and open my wallet. "If you could buy Chipotle Ham & Pepperoni in my stead, I'd be grateful." I say, as I take out a few dollars, and walk over to hand it to her.
She takes the money, and nods her head. "We'll be back shortly."
I nod, and go back to my desk to finish my paperwork.
Later that they, as I enter the kitchen, I notice Katie lost in thought while washing dishes. She looks troubled, and I can sense her internal struggle.
I hear her mumbling to herself, but I can't make out the words she's saying. "Are you okay?" I ask her.
She is startled by my sudden question and looks up at me. "I'm...I'm fine. It's just...things have been on my mind lately. That's all." She turns back to finish washing the dishes, but her tone is clearly forced.
"Okay...No, what's wrong? Something's clearly troubling you." I ask her, concern showing on my face.
She takes a deep breath, the sound of water dripping and her hands on the dishware filling the silence until she speaks, "Look, it's nothing, alright? Just...family stuff. I'll be fine." She finishes scrubbing the last dish and turns to face me. "It's just that...life has been a little overwhelming lately." She forces a small smile, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes, "But hey, how about you? You seem preoccupied too."
I nod, but my expression shows that I'm not convinced by her answer. "Oh, nothing...just work, you know. Lot of numbers." I chuckle.
A soft chuckle escapes her as she dries her hands with a dishcloth and leans against the counter. "You and your numbers, always finding peace in equations and data." She shakes her head, the light from the kitchen window catching the glint in her eyes. "Just promise me, if things do get too overwhelming, you'd come to me, alright? Maybe we can be bad at numbers together sometimes." She smiles, a hint of vulnerability in the way she averts her gaze.
"Thanks, but I'll be fine. It's just banking." I smile. "And, hey. You can talk to me as well, you know that. I always know if you're troubled."
She nods, the corners of her lips tugging into a half-smile. "I know...I know I can talk to you. But sometimes, it's hard to put the words together, you know?" She leans forward, propping her elbows on the counter, the movement causing her hair to fall over her shoulder "You're right, though. Let's just...be bad at numbers together." A faint smile lingers on her lips, her gaze finding mine.
I laugh. "What does that even mean, be bad at numbers together?" I shake my head.
The smile on her face grows, but it's tinged with a mix of amusement and nostalgia. "You know, when we were kids, we used to forget our homework in our rooms or lose track of time playing. Maybe, that's what it means. Just...allowing ourselves to be bad at something, to be human, together." She pauses, the kitchen seems to hold the warmth of the past and the promise of the present. "Sometimes, we get so caught up in being responsible, it's like we forget to laugh, isn't it?"
My eyes soften at her words. I sigh, and decide to change topic, because things are becoming too somber. "Anyway, what's for dinner?"
She notices the shift in the conversation, a sense of relief, even if just for a moment, washing over her face. "Oh, you know...the usual. I'm sure the kids will be happy with just about anything tonight." She pushes herself off the counter, the movement breaking the tension. "Just...give me a few minutes, and the table will be set." She walks past me, heading to the fridge, her voice carrying a hint of a tease. "And don't think about numbers during dinner, you hear me?"
I chuckle in amusement. "That's hard as banker, isn't it?" I smile, and walk toward the bathroom.
She throws a dishcloth at me in mock annoyance. "Don't you dare say that to me when you're about to face my cooking." She laughs, the sound of it a little strained, a mixture of nerves and genuine amusement. "Besides, it's not that hard to take a break...for the sake of sharing a meal." She leans against the counter, letting out a sigh, waiting for the moment when the family will be gathered around the table.
In the bathroom, I wash my hands, and face, after taking a leak. When done, I head back out, toward the dinner table. At the table, her two kids are already sitting at the table, dinner already on the table. "Katie? I'm here, we can at." I call for her; she's inside the kitchen.
The kitchen is a whirl of activity as she finishes setting plates and cutlery on the table, her movements swift and efficient. At the sound of my voice, she pokes her head out from the kitchen, a smile on her face. "Oh! I'm coming." She leaves the last utensils and walks into the dining room, the scent of her cooking lingering in the air. "Let's dig in, alright? Kids are already waiting." She pulls out a chair for you, the tired smile still lingering on her face.