Remy’s flight landed early the evening of his homecoming. He texted Erin when he landed, but the New York traffic was as unforgiving as ever.

Remy sighed and leaned back in his seat, adjusting the volume of the smooth jazz melody. No matter how long he lived in the city he could never get used to the stop and go, or the irate horns blaring.

It was quarter to seven when he pulled into the valet. When he stepped out the car, the night air windswept his dark tresses. He took note of the bare trees and the strewn leaves over the empty sidewalk.

Fall had finally settled.

Henry was there to greet him with a smile and grabbed his luggage out of the trunk of his Audi.

“Welcome home, Sir.”

“Thank you, Henry.” Remy’s keys clinked as he handed them to the valet and walked toward the elevator with Henry trailing behind him.

“How was your trip?”

“Fine.” Remy let out an exasperated sigh. “The traffic was horrendous coming home, but it’s Friday night. Business as usual.” Remy stifled a loud yawn with his hand. “How’s Mrs. Morgan?”

“She’s doing much better. Thank you for asking, Sir.” Henry’s wife, Mrs. Alice Morgan, was the previous housekeeper and caretaker for Annalee. Tough as nails, but with a sweet enough disposition where Annalee was concerned. Unfortunately, she’d suffered a stroke several weeks ago which landed her in the hospital, and Remy in need of a new nanny.

The elevator dinged and he and Henry stepped off. As he marched through the hall, Remy could hear the pulsing beat of music in the hallway. He sucked his teeth loudly. When he and his wife moved in, most of the inhabitants were older; bluebloods with generational wealth. However, recently with the surge of New York based tech companies, the occupancy standards had plummeted.

“Must be those kids in 1337,” Remy grumbled. But as he neared his own condo, the sound of the music grew louder.

It can’t be.

Remy rushed through the front door and stood shock still as the thrum of pop resounded off the walls. Couch pillows were tossed haphazardly around the room, and there were crayons and papers sprawled across the coffee table and floor. Blankets and bed pillows were bunched around the living room television, and empty bowls of ice cream sat on his natural oak wood tv stand.

“Erin!” Remy shouted for the Omega, stepping over several of Annalee’s dolls.

“In the kitchen!” Erin shouted back over the music. Remy half walked, half ran to the kitchen, nearly tripping over a dollhouse in the entryway. He cursed under his breath and trudged through the dining room, finally spotting Erin and Annalee.

“Papa!” Annalee squealed and waved at him. She was sitting on the counter, wearing a long t-shirt covered in pink icing, and flour. The kitchen was worse than the living room, with puddles of flour on the floor, cracked eggs on the counter, and empty containers of icing sitting idle.

Erin obviously didn’t notice or hear him come in. He swished his hips in a pastel yellow, frilly apron, pouring the cream batter from one bowl to the next.

“What is going on?” Remy roared as a new song started.

“We’re making cupcakes, Papa!” Annalee shouted back.

“What?!”

“Cup! Cakes!” she repeated, going back to her bowl to stir. Erin was using his own whisk as a mic, reciting the lyrics by memory.

“Been twenty-foooouuur hours, I need mooooore hours, with you,” Erin sang with Annalee. “Spent the weeeeekend. Getting eeeeven. Oooo.”

Remy could barely think through the ear-piercing pop music.

“Cause girls like you, run round with guys like me till sundown, when I come through, I need a girl like you, yeah yeah—”

Remy pulled the plug leaving the room in momentary silence.

“Oh!” Erin exclaimed with a smile. “Welcome home!" He walked over to Annalee, and picked her up off the counter, standing her upright. “Me and Annalee were just making cupcakes for you!”

“They got strawberry icing, Papa!” Annalee told him with a grin.

“I can see that,” Remy replied coolly, noting the strawberry icing on her hands.

“She got a little carried away with it.” Erin giggled as he grabbed a wad of paper towels. “Face.” He told her and Annalee looked up and him. “Hands.” She splayed her hands. “Now you’re all clean. And you can give Papa a hug.”

“Welcome home, Papa!” Annalee repeated as she rushed him. His daughter hugged him around his waist and legs, squeezing him tight. Inspecting her more closely, Remy could see the flecks of flour in her hair. “Did you have a good trip?”

“Yes,” he told her, trying to control his temper.

“Dinner should be ready soon.” Remy watched the apron sway around his knees and hips as Erin knelt to check the food. “I’m making lasagna.”

“Erin let me help make it! I put the noodles and cheese on it!”

“She did a great job!” Erin wrapped his arms around her. “My perfect little helper.” The Omega ruffled Annalee’s hair and kissed the top of her head.

“Papa, do you know this song?”

“Cause girls like you, run round with guys like me till sundown, when I come through, I need a girl like you, yeah yeah—”

They broke out into acapella song this time, with Erin twisting and spinning his daughter around the kitchen.

“Annalee.”

“Girls like you love fun, and yeah me too, what I want when I come through, I need a girl like you, yeah—yeah!”

“Annalee!” Remy hardened his tone when they erupted into giggles once more. “Why don’t you go to your room, and clean up for dinner. I want to talk to Erin.”

“Okay, daddy!” Annalee gave him another hug and he watched her exit the kitchen, humming the same tune on her way up the stairs.