by Hamel, B. B.
Single Dad Can’t Get Enough
B. B. Hamel
Contents
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1. Kim
2. Erik
3. Kim
4. Erik
5. Kim
6. Erik
7. Kim
8. Erik
9. Kim
10. Erik
11. Kim
12. Erik
13. Kim
14. Erik
15. Kim
16. Erik
17. Kim
18. Erik
19. Kim
20. Erik
21. Kim
22. Erik
23. Kim
24. Erik
25. Erik
26. Kim
Also by B. B. Hamel
Copyright © 2020 by B. B. Hamel
All rights reserved.
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1
Kim
I walk up the old front porch steps and feel the wood creaking under my weight. I frown around me, at the rundown door, at the shudders hanging slightly askew, and wonder if I’m in the wrong place.
Doesn’t matter. I knock on the door and wait. My bag is slung over my shoulder, heavy and packed to the brim with every single thing I own in the world. I’m nervous, shifting from foot to foot, but I refuse to let myself chicken out and run away.
I’ve done enough running this last year. I’m ready to find somewhere more permanent, more stable. Summersville is just about perfect. It’s small, tiny really, and tucked in an out of the way corner of Virginia. Nobody knows it exists and nobody cares, which is exactly what I want.
The door creaks open and I take a step back. I don’t know what I was expecting, but the man that looks out at me definitely isn’t it.
He’s younger than I figured. Maybe in his early thirties. He has dark hair, cut short and pushed back, a little messy, but somehow still fashionable and endearing. He has piercing green eyes, stubble on his cheeks, and a muscular but still lean frame. He’s strikingly handsome, the sort of guy you’d see in an underwear advertisement or something like that. I have to do a double take, my eyes moving down his dirty old jeans and tight, paint-stained white t-shirt.
“Can I help you?” he asks me, mouth pulling into a little smile.
“Uh, hi,” I say. “I’m here about the room.”
He stares at me for a long moment. “It’s not a room.”
“I saw the ad on Craigslist, said there was a room for rent, available immediately. I wanted to come—”
“It’s not a room,” he repeats. “It’s more like a guest house.”
I frown a little. “Oh.”
He stares at me for a long moment. I shift nervously. I can’t remember the last time someone looked at me like that, obviously sizing me up and not sure if he likes what he’s finding.
“Still interested?”
“Is the price what I saw in the ad?”
He shrugs. “Probably.”
“Five hundred a month.”
“That’s right then.”
“Okay. Okay, cool, yeah. Let’s go take a look.”
“Meet me around back.” He shuts the door in my face and I hear a lock click into place.
I stand there for a second. I don’t know how to get around back… but I guess I have to figure that out. I hop down the steps and walk around to the side of the house. There’s a wooden fence that was probably painted white at some point, but now it’s mostly just mossy green and dirt-stained, rotting away in portions. The gate swings open easily and I step around into the side yard.
The house is big and old, like a planation house on TV. I’ve never seen anything like it before. I’m from California and lived my whole life there until recently. I don’t know the first thing about plantations or the South, but this is what I picture, something big and rundown and beautiful.
I walk past a garden, surprisingly well-kept, and come into the back. It’s a big yard, really big. It slopes down and away toward some trees, and tucked back in the tree line is another smaller building. At first, I think it’s a shed, but it looks a lot nicer than a shed, and a lot bigger.
The guy appears to my right, stepping down the back porch. He nods at me and heads down a rough dirt path.
“Been meaning to fix all this up,” he says, gesturing at the yard. Parts are overgrown with weeds, but it’s mostly well-kept, the grass clipped short. There’s a sandbox nearby and a child’s swing set with a little castle and slide attached. “Hard to find the time.”
“Sure,” I say.
“My name’s Erik.”
“I’m Kim.”
He glances at me. “Nice to meet you, Kim.”
I follow him down the path and we stop outside of the building. Definitely not a shed, now that we’re closer. It’s more like a small cabin. He unlocks the door and we step inside.
“Not much,” he says. “Kitchen and living room here. Got a full bath in the back and one bedroom. Go ahead and look around if you want.”
“I’ll take it.”
He frowns at me. “You haven’t seen it.”
I look at him and force myself to smile. “It’s available now, right? I’ll take it and move in today.”
He laughs a little bit. “No offense, Kim, but I don’t really know you. That’s not really how it works.”
“Sorry,” I say, looking away. I can feel the red flushing my face and I don’t want him to see how embarrassed I am. “This is my first place on my own, I guess I don’t know anything yet.”
“I get you,” he says. “Listen, take a look around, and then we’ll talk. Okay?”
“Okay. Sure.”
He lingers near the door and I step into the little living room. It’s small but furnished with a couch, a chair, a coffee table, and a TV hanging on the wall. It’s not a new model but it’s flat and decent and better than the TV I own, which is no TV at all. The kitchen is small but clean with a microwave and a toaster. Everything looks new, almost gleaming.
I glance back at him and he’s just watching me with a bored look on his face. I quickly look away, wondering what a gorgeous guy like him would be doing renting out a little guest house in his back yard in a tiny, nowhere town like Summersville, Virginia.
But I know better than anyone else that sort of thing isn’t anybody’s business.
The bathroom and bedroom are both equally nice. They’re small, but they’re already furnished and clean, which is way more than I expected.
“I can get rid of the stuff if you want,” he says when I come out. “If we get that far, at least.”
“I love it,” I say. “I mean, it’s perfect. The stuff too. I don’t have any, you know.”
“Furniture?” He shrugs a little. “Well, there you go.”
“Look, I don’t know how we do this. But I need a place and this seems kind of ideal for me.”
“Well, let’s start with this.” He nods at the couch. I take a seat and he sits in the chair, sliding it to sit across from me. “Where are you from, Kim?”
“California,” I say. “Moved out here recently.”
“For what?”
“Change of scenery, I guess.” I glance away from him and don’t go into mor
e detail.
“Okay then. Summersville’s a pretty scenic place, if all you like is trees and old houses.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“Yeah, I bet.” He frowns a little. “I have some rules.”
“Okay.”
“No noise past ten at the latest. No parties. Don’t come up to my house unless you absolutely have to, and try to call first.”
“I, uh, I don’t have a phone.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Sorry, I just—”
“Well, get one,” he says. “Rent is due on the second. You can be late, but you need to tell me ahead of time. And if you make a habit of it, we’ll have an issue. I’m not an asshole, but I’m not going to track you down every single month. Get it?”
“Right. Got it. Pay on time.”
“Slip the check in my mailbox. You pay on time, you keep it quiet back here, and you leave me alone, you’ll be fine.” He stares at me for a long moment. “Any questions?”
“Yeah,” I say. “When can I move in?”
He smiles a little bit. He’s really gorgeous when he smiles, although so far he’s only been glaring at me the whole time.
“You can move in today, if you want. No sense in leaving the place empty and tomorrow’s the end of this month. So I’ll give you a day and a half for free. I want three months’ rent up front, first and last month plus a security deposit. You don’t mess this place up, you’ll get the deposit back. I’m not going to nickel and dime you, I don’t care about that. Fair?”
I nod once. “Fair.”
“Fine then.” He leans back in his chair. “I want to ask why you’d want to come live in Summersville, but frankly, I know it’s not my business. So I’ll just say, this is a boring town with not much to do, but the people are mostly nice. If you want to stick around, I can introduce you to a few folks, if you’re interested, although I’ve only been here for a year and a half myself.”
“That’d be nice,” I say.
“Okay then.” He sits up straight. “How do you want to pay?”
I unzip my backpack. “Is cash okay?”
He laughs. “You got fifteen hundred in cash?”
I reach into my bag and pull out three envelopes stuffed with money. I thumb through them, counting, until I have fifteen hundred. I take it out and place it down on the coffee table.
He stares at it for a long moment, stares at the envelopes as I shove them back into my backpack, and sighs.
“I should ask, but again, I’m not going to.” He takes the money. “Just between you and me, though, get a checking account.”
“Right. Sure. Checking account.”
He stands up and hesitates. “You do know how to do that, right?”
I laugh nervously. “Of course.”
“First Grand Bank is on Main Street, go in and ask for Cathy, she’ll get you sorted.” He gives me an odd look. “Anyway, get settled. You got more stuff to move in?”
“I, uh, yeah. I’ll take care of it.” I don’t know why I’m lying. I guess I’m embarrassed to admit that I’ve been hitchhiking all across the country, working short-term jobs, basically wandering around with envelopes stuffed with cash. I’m embarrassed to admit that I don’t know how to open a checking account, I don’t know how to get a driver’s license, I don’t know how to get a phone, and I don’t know anything about being a normal person in the real world.
But here I am, trying to figure it out.
“Okay then.” He stands up and puts his hand out. I stand and shake it. He has a firm grip, his palms are rough, and his eyes lock on mine. I shiver a little bit at how gorgeous he is. “Nice to meet you, Kim. I look forward to getting along with you.”
“Yeah, you too.”
He lets my hand go. “For now, you need something, you can come knock. But after tomorrow, call only. My number’s on the fridge.”
“Sounds good.”
He nods, gives me one last look, and this time he lets his eyes roam my body. I feel that shiver again, but this time it’s because of what I see reflected there.
Desire, or something like it.
He leaves and closes the door behind him.
I sit back down on the couch and unzip my backpack. I dump the contents out on the coffee table, letting some of it spill out onto the floor. I set the money aside then lean back and stare at my entire world.
Clothes, a picture, a hairbrush, some makeup, a Chapstick, a pocket knife, mittens, hats, a towel, a thin blanket, and a paperback copy of Battlefield Earth.
I pull out a long white dress from the pile and stare at it for a second. I remember the one and only time I wore this thing, ten years ago when I was only fifteen years old. I get up and walk into my new bedroom, open the small closet, and throw the dress on the floor. I slam the closet shut, letting the sliding doors rebound, before returning to my things.
I smile a little bit. That felt good. Weird, but good.
“Okay,” I say out loud. “Home.”
I go to my stuff, that last look my new landlord gave me still buzzing in my head, and start to move in.
2
Erik
I reach up and find the loose wiring, twisting it to the outlet. I get the light up and set and smile at my work before climbing down the ladder. I wipe my hands off on my jeans and look off the back porch at Annie playing in the sandbox.
She takes a big, yellow truck and runs over a baby doll. She laughs and tosses the doll into the air. When she spots me watching, she smiles. “Hi, Daddy,” she says in that little high-pitched chipmunk voice.
“Hi, baby girl,” I say.
She goes back to playing. She’s just over two years old but already she’s getting strangely independent. Of course, I need to be out here watching, or else she’ll hunt me down and make sure I’m within sight. Not that I’d ever actually leave her alone.
I get to work on the next light. This whole porch needs some damn work but having some light back here will go a long way. Fixing these dumb, old fixtures has been on my to-do list for a long time, but I haven’t had many spare moments to get to it. After rehabbing and rebuilding that guest house, I’ve been head-down looking after my daughter and trying to work when I can.
The guest house was a money thing. Rebuilt it in a few weeks of long fucking nights after my girl went down to sleep. I’d put the monitor on the floor and get to work for a few hours, sleeping maybe four or five hours every night after working until my hands bled. But the place looks good, and now that I’ve got a tenant, the money will definitely help. Not that it’s a ton of money, but it’ll go a long way in Summersville.
I finish the second fixture then slip inside and flip the switch. The lights turn on and I smile. Satisfying, seeing your work actually pan out. The house needs a lot more of this, but it’s a start.
I step back out on the porch. For the millionth time in my life, I wish Stacey were still with me. I wish she could see her daughter, see this house. She’d love rebuilding this place and living in this little town. I resisted for so long, moving out of Chicago, until it was way too late.
“Annie?” I call out. I crane my neck and don’t see her in the sandbox anymore. I was inside for a second and now she’s gone. My heart starts racing in my chest. “Annie!”
I walk down the steps. She’s probably just on her slide, but no, she’s not up there. I look around before I spot her teetering down the dirt path toward the guest house.
“Annie,” I call, following after. “Hey, Annie. Stop.”
She ignores me. I watch her walk up to the little house and start around back. I hurry to catch her but she moves faster, her little legs moving.
I follow around and stop in my tracks. The new girl, Kim’s sitting back there in a folding chair, her feet up on an old firepit, a book in her hands. She looks surprised as Annie approaches.
I haven’t seen her in a few days. She moved in about a week ago and ever since, she’s kept to herself. Only time I heard from her was
when she texted me to let me know that she got a phone and a checking account, and that I could expect real checks from then on.
Not that I mind the cash much. But a young, pretty girl like that shouldn’t be walking around with so much of it.
Really, a young, pretty girl shouldn’t be living in my guest house. She’s blonde, thin, but full in all the right places. She has full lips and sparking blue eyes. Her smile is tight and guarded and she seems a little awkward, a little off, maybe even a little twitchy. All my instincts say she’s harmless, but there’s something up with her anyway.
Not that Annie seems to mind. She walks right up to the new girl. “Hi,” she says, my brave Annie. Most girls her age would cling to my leg, but not my Annie.
“Hi,” Kim says. “I’m Kim.”
“Book.” Annie points at it. “Read book?”
Kim laughs a little. “You want me to read this to you?”
Annie nods and goes to climb into her lap.
“Sorry,” I say, stepping forward.
But Kim just swoops Annie up and plops her down. “This is a little old for her,” Kim says, showing me the book. Something called Battlefield Earth by L. Ron Hubbard. “But I can make something up instead.”
“You don’t have to. Come on, Annie, get down from there.”
“No get down,” Annie says. “No get down. Read book.”
“Annie.”
“It’s okay,” Kim says, smiling. “You can come back another time, right, Annie? I can read you whatever book you want. Would you like that?”
Annie looks up at Kim and smiles. “Yeah.”