Pretend I'm Yours_A Single Dad Romance

by Vivian Wood

  We go through the minutiae of an early morning routine. I manage to distract her with dry cereal and cartoons on my iPad for long enough to grab an ultra quick shower.

  In a way, it’s good that I’m busy trying to bathe Sarah, or trying to help her pick out clothes. Because I can’t worry about what I plan to do next, which is to show up unannounced at my dad’s house with Sarah in tow.

  My dad has been estranged from me since I decided to join the Army, almost ten years ago. We fell out because I asked him to look in on Mom occasionally while I was at boot camp.

  “There is a reason I divorced her,” he snarled at me. “Bitch is fucking crazy.”

  But not too crazy to leave your young son with, I guess, I thought.

  Yeah, better to worry about packing enough snacks and backup pairs of underwear for Sarah. I’ve become the master of swallowing my fears, worrying about what’s in front of me as opposed to anything in the future.

  An hour and a half after she wakes me up, we’re both dressed and as ready as we’re going to get. I carry Sarah, my laptop bag, and her diaper bag outside.

  I squint against the early morning light as I make my way to my sedan. I see the landlady, Larkin, locking her door.

  I instinctively glance away, but one glance was enough to have Larkin burned into my brain.

  She’s a tiny little thing, five feet maybe, and about one hundred fifteen pounds soaking wet. She has long blonde tresses that curl a little toward the ends, and her face is heart-shaped, with large amber eyes, an upturned nose, and a mouth that makes me think filthy thoughts.

  The last thought makes me feel disgruntled. She’s dressed pretty conservatively, in a red skirt that goes below the knee, a navy top that covers everything up to the neck, and a yellow cardigan.

  “Hey!” Larkin greets me, grabbing a big, heavy-looking file box and hefting it to her hip. “Hi, Sarah.”

  Sarah makes an excited sound, bouncing up and down in my arms. She waves to Larkin. “Burger!”

  Larkin laughs. “You seem to be in a good mood, Miss Sarah.”

  Sarah responds with a string of nonsense words.

  “She’s chatty today, I guess,” I say, turning toward the car.

  “It’s normal for kids her age, I think,” Larkin says, following us.

  “Are you a teacher, then?” I ask, looking at her clothes again.

  “A librarian,” she answers. “But we get plenty of kids that are your age, don’t we Sarah?”

  Sarah grins and claps her hands together. She loves the fact that somebody says her name all the time, I guess.

  “Later,” I say, picking up speed. “Gotta run.”

  I leave Larkin behind, and force myself to think about the upcoming surprise visit to my father. I’d rather think about Dad than to deal with any attraction I might feel to my hot landlady.

  Dad’s house and his hardware store are only a block apart. I drive to the store, and it looks the same as ever. It’s a squat little building with a short gray roof. It has always looked a bit like an old Yorkie dog with overgrown bangs, at least to me.

  The sign in the door says it’s not open, so I pull around the block and park out in front of the worn green siding and rusted wrought iron of Dad’s split-level home. I take a breath as I eye the too-long lawn and the peeling vinyl numbers on the mailbox.

  Yep. This place hasn’t changed a bit either. The front door opens, and my stepmom comes out with a broom, sweeping the front porch off. The lawn might be my dad’s purview, but apparently the porch falls under hers. Rosa has aged a little in ten years, but she still moves well, with plenty of the Guatemalan beauty that bewitched my dad.

  Sarah lets out a random, high pitched scream, writhing to be released from her car seat. I see Rosa look up at my car, puzzled. I look back at Sarah, trying to pacify her.

  “Sarah, hey!” I say in the brightest tone I can manage. “Here’s your toy…”

  She quiets, squeaking the ball I just handed her. “Ball.”

  I turn back to my window, only to find Rosa about to tap on the glass. Sighing, I roll the window down. “Hey, Rosa.”

  “Charlie, you get out of that car right now,” she says in her heavily accented English. “Let me see you.”

  “Uhhh….” I glance back at Sarah, who is happily squeaking her toy. “Alright.”

  I open the door and get out, towering over Rosa. She puts her hands on her hips for a second and purses her lips. Then she breaks into a grin, hugging me.

  For a second, I don’t know how to react. I tense up. It’s been a long time since anyone other than my daughter was physically affectionate with me. Then I force myself to relax, hugging her halfheartedly.

  “You look thin,” she tsks. “Are you eating?”

  “We eat fine.” I disengage from her embrace.

  Rosa peers around me at Sarah. “Who is this? This is your daughter?”

  Sarah grins cheekily at Rosa, waving her ball.

  “This is Sarah,” I say, almost a little embarrassed that this is how Sarah meets her grandparents. Sarah is suddenly frustrated by the restraints on her body, wanting out of the car seat.

  Rosa clucks her tongue. “Well, don’t stand there like that, get her out of the seat!”

  I open the door and disentangle Sarah from the car seat, holding her and closing the door. Rosa looks at her, getting misty eyed.

  “This is my first grandchild, you know?” she says. “You should have brought her around before now.”

  She holds out her arms to Sarah, but Sarah isn’t interested in going to her. Sarah turns her head away and lays her head on my shoulder, making fists in my hoodie.

  “Sorry,” I shrug. “It takes her a minute to get used to most people.”

  Except the landlady, I think.

  “No problem,” Rosa says, patting Sarah’s back. “Come on, come inside. Dale and will be glad to see you.” She starts across the yard, expecting that I will follow. “ is twenty-four now, you know. He’s big and strong, just like his father and brother.”

  Half-brother, I think. I like you, Rosa, but you stole my dad from my mom. I haven’t forgotten that. Just like I haven’t forgotten that Mom died while I was overseas, with no one to check in on her.

  But I keep my thoughts to myself. Besides, the whole situation with my mom is too messy to even begin to unravel. Those are threads I’d rather sweep under the rug than pull at, just now.

  Rosa opens the front door and steps aside, ushering me in. The living room hasn’t changed one bit since the last time I was here. There are the same sagging gray recliners and the same sad brown suede couch, all clustered around an ancient TV set. The same family photos, arranged on the wall in a cluster, like a shrine to my brother.

  The big surprise is that my dad isn’t sitting in his recliner, with all his empty Budweiser cans piled high. Then again, it is the morning. Maybe I just need to give him time.

  “Dale! !” Rosa calls. “Come and see who I found outside!”

  We go through to what used to be the dining room… except it’s not a dining room anymore. It’s…

  A little yoga studio.

  I gape as I take in my father and brother sitting cross legged on matching green yoga mats. The whole room used to be covered in the most hideous organic shag carpeting, but that’s been replaced with new Pergo flooring.

  “Charlie!” my dad says, surprised. He stands up. “What are you doing here?”

  It’s easy to see just where and I get our height and looks; looking at my dad is like looking at a funhouse mirror. He has dark hair and green eyes, though his hair is shot through with gray. Now that I look at him, he’s actually thinner than I am.

  And is his clone, our clone, albeit with a slightly duskier complexion.

  “I just came to visit,” I say. Not strictly true. But I’m no longer the center of attention, because my dad has laid eyes on Sarah.

  “Ohhhh…” he says, his jaw dropping more than mine did when I saw the yoga room. He looks
at me. “Is this…?”

  I juggle Sarah, who is squirming, wanting to be put down. “Yeah. Sarah. I don’t want to let her down, or I’m afraid she’ll tear up your whole house.”

  “Let down!” Sarah shrieks. She’s starting to get red-faced, which isn’t a good sign. Usually a tantrum is about to follow. “Let down!”

  “Put her down. Let her explore,” Rosa says.

  I glance at my dad, and he nods in agreement. I bend down and put Sarah’s feet on the ground. She immediately runs to the window and gets on her tiptoes to look out.

  “What’s that?” she says, looking to Rosa.

  Rosa, glad to be included, goes over to kneel by Sarah. “That’s a tree.”

  “Tree,” Sarah says, her brow knitting.

  “Well,” says, standing up. “Hi.”

  He walks over and embraces me. Again, it feels a little weird to be hugged.

  “Hey, man,” I say. “Nice to see you.”

  pulls back and looks at me. “I’m so sorry about Britta. I tried to call a couple times…”

  It’s true. He tried, my dad and Rosa tried… probably a hundred other people tried to call. I just shut off my phone, eventually changing my number.

  “Yeah… that’s… that’s on me,” I say, rubbing the back of my neck. “Things got pretty bleak for a while.”

  That’s all I can say about the last two years, at least without my eyes tearing up. Sarah is the only reason I chose to keep living; even then, living is a relative term.

  I don’t quite know what to call the cycle of waking, working, tucking my kid in, and then sobbing desperately into my pillow as soon as I was sure Sarah wouldn’t hear.

  My dad just reaches over and claps me on the back. “We’re glad you’re here now, Charlie.”

  I smile grimly. “Actually, I just rented a place in town.”

  Dad and both stare at me. is the first to speak. “Like… to live in?”

  “Yeah, I thought you were just visiting.” My dad looks puzzled.

  “I misspoke,” I say with a shrug. It’s hard not to get defensive, but I try my best. “We’re here for a few months, at least.”

  “That’s just great, Charlie,” my dad says. “You two should come around for Sunday Supper.”

  Sunday Supper sounds like a great excuse for my dad to get drunk and yell at anyone who has the unfortunate luck of being nearby.

  I glance over at Sarah, who has now abandoned the window in favor of exploring the yoga mats. She picks one of the corners of the mats up, looking underneath as if there might be a surprise. When there is only the floor, she frowns.

  “Yeah… I don’t think so,” I say, shaking my head. “I don’t really like Sarah to be around drinking.”

  My dad’s face flushes. “I uh… I’ve been sober for nearly a decade, now. We don’t drink at Sunday Supper. It’s the Lord’s day, after all.”

  I’m so stunned, you could knock me over with a feather. I honestly can’t remember my father ever not drinking.

  “Yeah, we usually have some people over from church,” says. “You really oughta come.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see Rosa hugging Sarah. Sarah looks uncertain at first, but then she rests her head on Rosa’s shoulder.

  “We’ll think about it,” I say.

  “Shoot, I gotta go,” says. “I have to shower before I head into work.”

  I lift my brows. “Yeah?”

  “Yep. Gotta get home. Listen, I’ll call you, and we’ll go get something to eat.”

  I have to say, whatever dad and Rosa did with , he turned out okay. He strides through the living room with confidence. I nod noncommittally to his back.

  “We should go too,” I say.

  “So soon?” Rosa protests, looking crestfallen.

  “Yeah, you know. Work,” I lie. I’m a remote business analyst, which is nerd speak for ‘I work my own hours’.

  She tsks again, but doesn’t make a fuss. She just gives Sarah a final hug. “Good bye, reinita.”

  “Bye?” Sarah says, looking a little sad when Rosa stands up.

  My heart twists in my chest when I realize that Sarah hasn’t had much female attention in her short life.

  “Think about Sunday,” my dad says. “It’s a pot luck, so bring a dessert from the grocery store.”

  He winks at me, and I have to work to keep my expression neutral. Who is this thin, yoga loving, non-drinking hippy and what did he do with my dad?

  “Ay!” Rosa says to him. To me, she says, “You don’t bring anything other than your little pobrecita.”

  “Alright. We’ll think about it,” I repeat, bending down and scooping Sarah up.

  “Here, I should walk you to the door,” Rosa says, clucking over me like a mother hen.

  “Bye,” I say, turning and walking out of there.

  Sarah mumbles a bunch of gibberish, waving to Rosa. I see Rosa clutching at her chest when I nudge open the door.

  I manage to get halfway to the car before Sarah’s face crumples.

  “Lady!” she wails, pointing at the house. “Go back!”

  I don’t know what’s with Sarah bonding with people lately; first the landlady, now Rosa. It’s very difficult to tuck Sarah into the car, fastening her in.

  Once I close the back door, I take a second to breathe. I glance at the house, and see my dad and Rosa staring at me. Rosa raises her hand in a halfhearted wave.

  I return her wave, then get in the car. Sarah is screaming at top volume as I pull away, filled with a type of dread I cannot name.

  Chapter Four

  Larkin

  It’s late Monday afternoon as I pull my ancient Toyota Camry up behind my house. It’s the start of my weekend, as I am off Tuesdays and Wednesdays.

  It’s been a remarkably long week at the library, with the (head boss) insisting that we become more efficient rather than hiring for the two empty positions we have. I spent the whole week just holding my breath and trying not to be noticed.

  So as I get home and unlock my front door, I’m particularly glad to be here. Doubly so when I’m greeted by my menagerie.

  “Hi!!” I sing to Morris, who happens to be the first to shove his nose under my hand. “Hi, guys!”

  Zack pushes Morris out of the way, and Sadie crowds in too. I close the door and put my purse on its hook, then slide my flats off and into the corner.

  “Who wants a treat?” I say.

  Zack and Morris go nuts, which makes Sadie go crazy. I grin as I go through the living room and into the kitchen, making a beeline for the treat jar on the kitchen counter.

  I make everyone sit, making sure to tap the floor with my commands so that Sadie gets to participate too. While the dogs are eating their treats, I pull out Muffin’s treat bag.

  The mere sound of me opening it has Muffin rubbing against my legs, purring. I give her a treat, then rub her behind the ears as she chows down.

  I head back into my living room, collapsing on the low couch. I pick a thread off of my bubblegum pink dress, sighing. It’s nice to be home.

  I hear the door close with a muffled bang next door, I bite my lip. I’m so curious about what Charlie and Sarah have been up to in the past few days; I’ve barely seen or heard anything from them since they moved in.

  I think about Charlie, with his oversized frame and piercing green eyes, and I get a chill. I don’t know exactly what it is about him that I find so intriguing. Maybe it’s his stoicism, or maybe it’s something about the way he looks at Sarah. Protective, but also a little disconnected emotionally.

  Then there is the fact that a few of the rusting machines in the back yard keep turning up on the porch, cleaned and working anew. I can only guess that he’s the one behind it, but I’m not sure why.

  I don’t know. But either way, it makes him a big puzzle that I can’t wait to put together. I’ve got to get the gist of him, so that I can find something else to worry about.

  Standing up, I head into the kitchen. I’ve got a huge p
itcher of sun tea that I’ve been steeping in the window since dawn.

  If I were a really good neighbor, I would pop next door with that tea, I tell myself.

  Peeling off my white cardigan, I grab the pitcher of tea and three plastic cups, then head next door. I take a deep breath as I stand in front of his door.

  I can do this.

  I knock. I hear Sarah running for the front door before Charlie opens it partway, so Sarah can’t get out. He squints out at me, a little confused.

  “Yes?” he says.

  “Hey,” I say, showcasing my pitcher of tea. “I just… I made some tea. I wanted to make sure you were settling in alright. You know, being neighborly.”

  Sarah shrieks at the top of her lungs, and Charlie opens the door to let her see what’s going on.

  “Laken!” she shouts. “Juice?”

  “Yeah, it looks like she brought juice,” Charlie says, stepping back. “Come on in, Larkin.”

  “Right,” I say, stepping inside. “Ooof.”

  Sarah throws her entire body at my legs, hugging me. “Laken!”

  I smile down at her, but Charlie carefully tries to disengage her.

  “Come on, Sarah,” he says. “Come in the kitchen so Larkin can pour you some tea.”

  He picks Sarah up, carrying her toward the kitchen. I close the door and follow him, and set the pitcher down on the kitchen counter. As I pour the tea, I look around.

  “It’s a little eerie how similar my side of the house is,” I say.

  Charlie glances at me, his brow furrowing a bit. He accepts a plastic cup from me, taking a sip before passing it to Sarah.

  “Be careful,” he warns Sarah, who takes a big gulp and then sets the cup on the floor. Then silence stretches.

  Silence makes me beyond nervous.

  “So, um…” I say, swirling the tea around in the bottom of my cup. “Why did you two move here, again?”

  He squints at me, and for a second I think he’s about to throw me out of his side of the house. Then he shrugs.

  “We have family here,” he says.

  I’m so curious about where they came from… and who they’re NOT bringing up… especially Sarah’s mom. I bite my bottom lip, hoping that he will give me a little more.