“Have a nice rest of your fucking lunch, Bob,” I say as I walk away from the table, displeased with the reality of me having to probably go back to Cap’s Plan A–getting my sexy, chaotic therapist to agree to a three session deal and a raving review.
Or worse, being nice to her for six weeks.
And jerking off to thoughts of her for six weeks.
Bob doesn’t respond to my rude exit but simply continues eating his chicken Cesar salad.
I hope he chokes on a crouton.
***
“Daddy!”
By Friday, my world is spinning back on its proper axis. I’m holding two arms full of chubby legs and pigtails and barely breathing as my baby girl kisses me on the nose.
“Hi, Meatball.”
She holds her head back to look me in the face.
“Are you tired, Daddy?”
Sometimes it’s not to my benefit that my daughter is so astute, especially when her mother is watching.
“Do I look tired?” I grin.
“Your eyes are dark like mine when I’m sick.”
“Ohhh, that. Well, I’ve just been busy with work this week, Meatball, but now that you’re here there’s going to be nothing but playtime!”
I swing her around several times the way she likes until she gets slightly dizzy and squeals.
“Ahhh!”
“Okay, you two, I guess I’ll leave you to your weekend of play.”
Jana hands me two stapled pieces of paper, much like a teacher would.
“What’s this?”
“The first page is my travel itinerary. The second page is just a few notes I made in case you need them.”
I take a look at Jana’s notes and roll my eyes.
“I’m fully aware of her list of allergies and already have the name and number of her physician.”
“Relax, I was just making sure.”
“We’ll see you when you get back, mommy,” I say pleasantly for Bella’s benefit.
“Bye, Mommy! Have fun on the airplane.”
“Can I have a hug?” Jana extends her arms for a hug while Bella stays in my arms but reaches for her mother.
I move closer.
“Family sandwich!” Bella yells, which always means she wants the three of us to hug simultaneously.
It seemed innocent enough when I first introduced the family sandwich hug into our lives, but now that Bella is getting older, it feels wrong, almost as if I’m giving my daughter false hope that her parents will ever be together.
