Stay At Home Dad 03-Father Knows Death
Page 18
“What?”
“Poker. He cheats.”
I closed the back of the minivan. “What are you talking about?”
“Don’t you play in one of them games? Where all you daddies get together and pretend to be manly and play poker?”
I did, in fact. Last Friday of every month. A tight group of friends, we rotated homes and played until the wee hours of the morning, drinking beer, making fun of one another, and taking each other’s money. It was less about the poker and more about the need to do some serious male bonding. Kind of like the kids and their soccer, but with more cursing and beer.
“Well, he used to play in a regular game,” Belinda said, “but they found out he was cheating. Kicked his butt out.”
“If it was anything like my game, you’re expected to cheat.”
She shook her head. “No. This was different. They played for stakes bigger than your daughter’s lunch money.” She nodded, as if confirming to herself what she was saying was true. “Ask around. You’ll find out.”
I knew that was true. Rose Petal wasn’t big, and nearly everyone knew something about someone else’s business. It was a fishbowl of sorts. And I had to admit as she was telling me this, I was surprised that I hadn’t heard some version of Huber’s cheating already.
“I’ll get back to you, Belinda,” I said, pulling the keys out of my pocket. “No promises, though. I have to talk to Victor first.”
“I’ll sit on him,” she said.
“Huh?”
“I’ll sit on that little man if that’s what it takes to get him to agree,” she said.
“I’ll pass that along.”
Belinda waddled away across the now empty parking lot, as everyone else had packed up and gone home. I slid into the driver’s seat, shoved the key into the ignition, and fired up the air-conditioning.
“She is a large woman,” Julianne said.
“And then some.”
“She wants you to look for the King?”
“Yes.”
“And you said?”
“That I had to talk with Victor first.”
I backed out of the stall and headed out of the lot. I glanced in the rearview mirror. Carly was red-faced, and her eyes were glazed over. She was exhausted. Which meant a nap was on the horizon. Which meant . . .
“We may get some alone time,” Julianne whispered.
“Was just thinking the same thing.”
“You sure you aren’t too tired, Coach?” She moved her hand and rested it on my thigh.
I smiled. “I’m so irresistible, aren’t I?”
She lifted her hand. “I just need you to make the next baby. You’re a conduit.”
I glanced at her, and she wore the smirk she always wore that put me in my place.
We were ready for another child. We’d relished the first five years alone with Carly, and we’d done that on purpose. She was our first, and we wanted to dote on her, give her as much attention as possible. And we wanted to be rested before the second one came along. Not that Carly was a tough kid—she wasn’t—but any child will wear you out as he or she goes from infancy to toddlerhood to kindergarten.
People looked at us a little strangely. In Rose Petal you were expected to follow one kid with another, and then maybe another, so that your house was filled with small people all under the age of five. But Julianne and I had stood our ground against the peer pressure and had stuck to our plan.
However, it was time to enact phase two of our plan. Which, you know, I was kinda looking forward to. I wasn’t going to mind if it took a while. Practice makes perfect.
I pointed the minivan in the direction of our home and tried to obey the speed limit. This was a hard thing to do, particularly when I saw Carly nod off in her car seat.
“She’s out,” I whispered.
“I know,” Julianne whispered back. Her smirk morphed into a smile, and my foot slammed harder on the accelerator.
I slowed down enough so as not to cause the van to go airborne as we pulled into the driveway, and eased it into the garage. I kept the engine running until the garage door was down behind us, then shut off the ignition. Carly wasn’t exactly a light sleeper, but she didn’t need a lot of encouragement to wake up, either.
“I’ll run her upstairs,” I said.
“I’ll be in the living room.”
“The living room?”
The smile grew devilish. “We can be a little . . . noisier in the living room.”
Oh, my. “I’ll meet you there.”
I managed to open the van doors, remove Carly from her seat, and get her into my arms without her stirring. I gave Julianne a thumbs-up, turned, and walked as quickly as I could into the house, up the stairs, and into her room. I laid her down on her bed and she squirmed a little, settling onto the blankets, but kept her eyes shut, smacking her lips.
I paused and smiled. It would be nice to have another of those. I liked being a dad. Even better, I loved being a dad who got to stay home with Carly, far more than I ever anticipated I would. Everyone had warned me that adding a second child to the mix might change my mind, but I was willing to take that chance.
If only because phase two sounded like so much fun.
I bounded down the stairs, careful to keep my footsteps light. I kicked off my sneakers, tossed my socks on top, and found Julianne stretched out on the sofa.
In black lingerie.
“Whoa,” I said.
The devilish smile returned. “Such a way with words.”
“Whoa,” I said again.
“Good thing I don’t need to be wooed.”
“I could try and woo you.”
“Come closer and whisper your woos in my ear.”
I leaned down and stretched out my body on top of hers, every synapse in me firing like pistons in a race car. I felt sorry for those men who got bored with their wives. Julianne was more attractive now than the day I met her, and every time she smiled at me, butterflies still took off in my stomach.
She wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me, setting off fireworks inside my head. Our bodies meshed together, and I realized there was no possible way phase two could ever be overrated.
“Don’t you two have a bedroom?” a voice said from the entryway.
Julianne’s body stiffened beneath me, and the fireworks in my head disappeared, replaced by a gathering fury that could be brought on by just one person.
“Don’t stop on my account,” the voice said. “I’ll wait till you’re done.”
“What is he doing in here?” Julianne whispered, shrinking beneath me.
“I have no idea,” I said, resting my forehead against hers. “Do we have to stop?”
“Deuce!” Julianne said in my ear. “Do something!”
I sighed and swiveled my head in the direction of the other, unwelcome voice.
Victor Anthony Doolittle waved his tiny fingers at me.
Friggin’ midget.
KENSINGTON BOOKS are published by
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Copyright © 2013 by Jeff Shelby
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
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ISBN: 978-0-7582-6691-0
First Kensington Mass Market Edition: June 2013
eISBN-13: 978-0-7582-8903-2
eISBN-10: 0-7582-8903-0
First Kensington Electronic Edition: June 2013
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