Arrogant Single Dad: A Hero Club Novel

by Alyse Zaftig

  Times like these made me sure that I had made the right choice when I left New York. Instead of fighting a line of people to get ice cream, we had the place almost to ourselves since we’d come at an odd hour. I missed the restaurants in New York every so often, but with an Instant Pot, I was able to cook dinner at home a lot more often than I did when I was single. I had Instant Pot cookbooks galore. Logan spoiled our kids with breakfast for dinner at least once a week. He also took care of all the meals on the weekends. He made sure that my Saturdays were low-key as he took care of the kids and sent me off to yoga class, which was followed by a massage at the local spa. He said that I came home basically floating, so it was worth it. I loved my two daughters as much as I could. They loved crawling all over the place and flinging their toys everywhere. My life was full of love and laughter in a way that it had never been before. I was an only child, so the controlled chaos of our house was nothing like what I’d had with my mom. For her, everything had its proper place; I was responsible for putting all my toys in my toy chest when I was done. The kids took up almost every inch of available space in the house with all of their things. We had a weekly cleaning service that got rid of the worst of the mess, but within an hour of arriving home from the park the kids would make the house into a disaster zone again.

  Epilogue IV

  “No school!” screamed Emily. My normally quiet little girl was struggling as I fought to put her pants on.

  “School is fun,” said her older sister. Annabelle had her hair in braids and her backpack on. She loved going to school and playing with other kids. Emily was old enough now for her first day of school. Or she would be if she’d let me put on her pants.

  “You love these pants,” I pleaded with her. “Please put them on.”

  “No!” she shouted before running to her bed and sliding underneath so I couldn’t reach her. “No pants! No school!”

  “I can go by myself,” Annabelle offered. Logan and I both primarily worked from home, so he’d be fine at home with Emily while I drove Annabelle to preschool.

  “I packed Dunkaroos in your lunchbox,” I begged. “Please come out.” We bought Dunkaroos, a childhood staple for both Logan and me, from Amazon. The kids loved them; when they were at school, someone else had to deal with the sugar-high maniacs that our daughters turned into.

  “No!” Emily crawled further under her bed. “No school.”

  I put the pants down on her bed. I sighed and thought about calling for reinforcements. Logan was on a conference call, which meant that he was out. I called my mom.

  “Mom, Emily won’t go to school.”

  “Isn’t she going to that cute little place that Annabelle goes to?”

  Annabelle was almost old enough to go to first grade. They’d only have a year of overlap since Annabelle went to full-day kindergarten at a highly rated place close to our house.

  “Yeah, she’s been there to pick up Annabelle. But right now she’s under the bed and won’t come out.”

  “Put me on speaker.”

  “I already brought out the big guns. I promised her Dunkaroos.”

  “It’s okay. I raised you, didn’t I?”

  “I always thought that you had eyes in the back of your head.”

  “Only when you were being naughty.” She laughed a little. “I remember the day that you peed in your pants at preschool and locked yourself in the bathroom.”

  “I hope Emily doesn’t do that.”

  “It’s par for the course, sweetheart. Every child is different.”

  I pressed the button to put my mom on speakerphone.

  “Hi Emmy-bear,” my mom started. Emily was still under the bed. I got flat on the floor to look at her. She was sucking on her thumb. “I heard you didn’t want to go to school today.”

  “No school!” announced Emily.

  We were already nearly late for Annabelle’s first section of the day. She was in Montessori, where she was learning Spanish and French, and her Spanish teacher had the first section today. She loved learning other languages; we had a calendar with three languages on it in Annabelle’s room that was bright and cheerful. Annabelle was doing a little dance like she needed to go to the bathroom. She was impatient to go to school.

  “Do you need to go potty?” I checked.

  “No, I don’t want to be late.” Annabelle stuck out her lip. “Emily is being a stupid head.”

  “Am not!” howled Emily from under the bed.

  “You’d get time out in my house. We don’t use that word,” admonished my mother.

  “Sorry, Grandma.” Annabelle was ashamed to be chastised by the kind of grandmother who baked her cookies and made lemonade with her. My mother was hardly ever upset with them; she would pump my kids full of sugar and then send them home to me. She said she was entitled after the pure terror I was as a little kid.

  “Stupidhead,” echoed Emily.

  “That would be time out for you, too, Emmy-bear.” I could see her stick out her tongue, which made me grin at her.

  “What if you get Dunkaroos now?” asked my mom.

  “No school,” Emily replied, but she sounded less sure of herself. The Dunkaroos were really expensive for a snack, so we limited how much sugary frosting they consumed on a daily basis.

  “You can have Dunkaroos in the car.” Logan had us all on a membership program that cleaned out our cars on a weekly basis or we’d probably have ants or something.

  “Dunkaroos?” Emily asked. I could see her shifting to the edge of the bed. There was a cobweb in her hair. It had been a while since the underside of her bed had been cleaned in the back corner.

  “Dunkaroos in the car,” my mom said firmly. Good Lord. Emily was getting two packs of Dunkaroos in one day.

  “Okay!” Emily got out from underneath the bed and put her own pants on. I went to the highest shelf in the pantry that I could reach to get another pack of Dunkaroos. Emily picked up her Hello Kitty backpack with aplomb. She had mastered the art of her Velcro shoes now, so she put on her own shoes while Annabelle did the same. Annabelle rolled her eyes as she breezed into the car. Emily was small enough that I had to pick her up to get her into her carseat. I gave her the promised Dunkaroos after strapping her into her seat.

  Radio Disney was always on in the car. Annabelle sang along with some pop song I didn’t know and didn’t make a fuss about not getting Dunkaroos. She knew they were a bribe to get Emily to behave; Annabelle should’ve gotten time out for calling Emily a stupid head. She knew that we were late, or she would’ve been more moderate with her words. I was thinking of withholding dessert from dinner, but Annabelle had gotten into the car without a fuss today. Trying to parent two kids was a headache and a half; you had to treat them almost equally, even though one was older than the other by a few years.

  When we got to the school, Annabelle unbuckled herself from her booster seat and hopped out of the car on her own. She walked quickly to her cubby. Emily was done with the Dunkaroos. There were sprinkles all around her mouth and crumbs on her shirt. I dusted her off a little and wet a napkin with water to wipe her face. She looked like she was going to rebel again, only this time it would be with sugar in her system.

  “Let’s go find some new friends.” I picked her up and balanced her on my hip. Soon, she’d be too big for me to carry. She was looking like she’d be pretty tall. The doctor said that her growth plates indicated that she’d be tall like Logan instead of petite like I was.

  I put her down as soon as we were inside. The floor was covered with a soft alphabet to cushion falls from little ones. I went to her Montessori classroom for three-year-olds. There were plenty of kids who were serious and focused at their play stations. There was a cubby with Emily on it.

  “Let’s go put your Hello Kitty backpack away,” I said to her. She sucked her thumb as I hung up her backpack at a height where she could reach it. Her lunchbox was inside, but I knew better than to take it out. She’d go for the Dunkaroos inside if she remembered, and one
portion of Dunkaroos early in the morning was enough.

  “This must be Emily,” said a teacher warmly. She had a little name tag that said “Ms. Granger.” “How are you doing today?”

  “A little separation anxiety.” We had kept Emily close to home except for some play dates. She hadn’t been apart from me or Logan for any length of time; her grandmother was the third adult that she’d always been around. Now she was going to a new school where none of the three of us were sitting down.

  “Why don’t we get you started playing with some Legos?”

  “She loves Legos.” She loved destroying Legos. Logan would build tall towers of Legos with her that she would wreck like Godzilla.

  I watched as Ms. Granger gently coaxed Emily into playing with Legos and made my escape. There might have been a tear or two as I walked back to the car. Our girls were growing up so fast. We still had a part-time nanny since Emily was only in a half-day program; Annabelle was used to being picked up by her. Logan and I were always around; it was hard to let go of our youngest.

  Epilogue V

  “Hold my hand, Emmy-bear.” Emily reluctantly put her hand in mine. She was swiveling around, trying to take in all the sights, sounds, and smells of the LaGuardia airport. I wished then that she would agree to a leash backpack, but Emily hated hers. Annabelle was finally old enough that we could count on her not to bound straight into traffic. Emily had been younger the last time we’d made the trip up to New York with her and had slept through landing in LaGuardia.

  “M & Ms!” screamed Annabelle.

  “Indoor voice,” I admonished.

  Annabelle whispered, “M & Ms.” Our resident chocoholic was obsessed with the M & M store in New York. It would be our first stop after dropping our bags at our hotel. Emily was holding onto my hand while simultaneously trying to take in a 360 degree view of everything around us. We were immersed in the hustle and bustle of New York, a big change from our placid Indiana life. In New York, we didn’t even need to rent a car. Logan had taken care of our MetroCards already; he’d talked to a concierge that set up a kid-friendly week to go everywhere the kids wanted to go. Bianca had offered to have us stay with her, but with three kids in one house, chaos was the best outcome we could hope for. We’d visit them tomorrow, after the kids got a chance to get settled.

  “Let’s grab a Lyft.” We went to the Lyft stand with our carry-ons. The girls had a week’s worth of clothing; I’d made sure that there was a laundry service available at the hotel. Last time we came, we’d come with my mother. She had bought so many clothes for the kids that we bought a new suitcase to send home all of her purchases. The girls were growing out of their clothes almost as soon as we bought them, so we might as well buy some bigger clothes while we were in New York. Annabelle had already told us that she was going to grow up to be a fashion designer and live in New York when she grew up. My mom, bless her, had helped Annabelle make paper dresses that looked like runway or red carpet looks. Annabelle was always sketching dresses when she had downtime.

  We all piled into an XL Lyft with our suitcases and carseat. Annabelle was wiggly about having to sit in a booster seat now, and we were spending so little time in cars in New York that we’d let her get away with not sitting in a booster seat as a special occasion kind of thing. Emily plunked herself down in the carseat that she’d been in during the plane ride. Then we were off to the Midtown hotel that Logan liked the best. I had lived near Morningside Heights at one point with all the Columbia kids, but I’d finished up in Brooklyn before moving home to Indiana. It took a while to get to Manhattan depending on the trains, so Logan liked to stay closer to all the attractions. By the time our Lyft got us to the hotel, Emily was yawning. Annabelle was jazzed to be in New York again. She preferred being here because she loved the Broadway shows. She did theater camp during the summers and was frequently found singing in our house into the karaoke setup that Logan had put into our basement. We could hear her singing when she felt the urge to put on a performance. Sometimes she’d even taken home a paper dress from Grandma’s and cover a song by a famous singer while dressed like him or her. Logan had helped her put together her own Instagram and Youtube channel. She was slightly Internet famous.

  We unbuckled Emily’s carseat and hustled her inside for a nap. Annabelle started unpacking her clothes because she was fastidious about wrinkles. Having her use an iron made me really nervous, so we had a small steamer that she could use on her clothes. Emily stayed asleep for a half hour before waking up. Logan and I used that half hour to unpack our own clothes.

  “Ready, Emmy-bear?” I asked our groggy youngest.

  “M & Ms?” asked Emily.

  “We are going to the store!” screamed Annabelle.

  “Indoor voice!” said Logan.

  “M & Ms!” whispered Annabelle. We made sure we had our wallets so that the kids could spend way too much money on candy and souvenirs. Then we each took a kid’s hand and marched down to the M & M store on Broadway.

  When we were inside, Emily perked up. Annabelle was lost in basically her paradise. There were M & M branded things everywhere. Emily tugged my hand as she went between different displays. Logan kept an eye on Annabelle while she explored every nook and cranny of the three-floor store. Emily soon got bored of looking at the candy.

  “Up,” she demanded like a small dictator.

  “Okay, Emmy-bear,” I said, acquiescing to her demands. I picked her up and perched her on my hip, slowly walking and rubbing her back. She put her cheek down on my shoulder. I knew she was still tired from the plane ride. I did slow laps of the store until Annabelle came back to the first floor and found us. We all stood in line at the register so Annabelle could purchase all the candy she could carry. Logan and I rationed it out, but just looking at the bright colors made Annabelle’s mood lighten. We checked out using Annabelle’s allowance money before we headed out. After a quick trip to the hotel to drop off Annabelle’s loot and pick up Emily’s stroller, we went walking around Midtown. Everyone in New York was in a hurry. I was careful to make sure that our family only took up half the sidewalk so that people could pass us.

  “Mommy, I don’t know how you ever left here,” said Annabelle. “I could switch schools and come here.”

  I shared a look with Logan. “There’s a lot more space in Indiana.” Not to mention that the air quality was far better in Indiana. New York was polluted and crowded. But sometimes Annabelle made me forget all about the downsides of New York.

  “We’re not moving to New York, but we could spend summer here,” offered Logan.

  “Really, Daddy?” asked Annabelle.

  “Sure. We could get a three-month lease on an apartment. Your mom and I work remotely anyway. Your mom comes here every month as it is.”

  “I’d love that!” shrieked Annabelle.

  “But what about our house?” asked Emily.

  “We’d hire someone to check on it, Emmy-bear.” The kids had been too young to be allowed to roam around New York before now. But at this point, Emily’s sense of self-preservation was just about good enough to make sure she was safe even without a stroller, which I was pushing her around in because she was tired.

  “Then I like New York,” said Annabelle.

  “We’ll do it next summer, pumpkin,” Logan promised. He looped his hand in mine and gently took over pushing Emily.

  “I love you,” he whispered in my ear.

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