A part of me feels sick to my stomach. Bile and something sad, darker floods my mouth. I never wanted this for my kids.
But people change.
I know that better than anyone because I’m not the man I used to be. In some ways, I’m way better. In other ways, far, far worse. But at least I can take care of Holly and Daisy. I just hope they’re going to be okay with that.
I take a few breaths, run a sweating hand through my beard, and swallow back the sour taste in my mouth while my heart rate slowly comes down. The kids are sitting at barstools, laughing loudly and eating pancakes. One of our prospects is chatting up Stella, who points to me as I approach.
“Your plate is in the oven staying warm,” she says. “Want me to grab it?”
I nod and grumble my thanks.
Daisy is leaning over Holly’s arm, making the kind of giggling sound that can only mean they are talking about a boy. My stomach rolls over in my gut. The kids aren’t kids anymore. They are young women, and if this Tyler thing is really something I need to worry about…Fuck.
I’ve been a single dad forever. But a full-time dad to two teenagers is something else entirely.
When Stella brings the warm plate and sets it on the bar counter, Daisy points to a pancake that looks like an oval smear with wheels. “I tried to make you a motorcycle, but it didn’t exactly turn out.”
I look down at the plate, and a sudden lightness floods my chest. Making pancake animals was something I used to do when the kids were small. They all looked like shit and nothing like real animals, but I’d make the girls guess what they were. I’d act offended and shocked by their very reasonable guesses, and when I’d finally tell them some random, impossible animal, they would laugh and squeal.
These girls may be young women, but they are still those kids. My kids.
I pick up the motorcycle with my bare hands and pop the whole thing into my mouth. “Best pancake I ever tasted,” I say, talking with my mouth full intentionally. “It looked exactly like my ride.”
“Dad.” Daisy covers her eyes. “Your teeth are full of chocolate. Gross.”
I wash down the pancake with coffee when the phone in my pocket rings. I’m prepared for it to be Shayla, but the caller ID says it’s my lawyer. I set down my coffee and turn away from the bar. “Hey,” I answer.
“I got the tape,” he says, without so much as a hello. That’s what I love about the guy. We’re cut from the same cloth. No bullshit. “This is going to be helpful. I filed an emergency petition, and I expect a hearing to be put on the calendar. But I want you to get a statementfrom the salon owner, the one from yesterday. You think you can get that? And save the evidence from the girls’ phones. I’ll need screenshots of the texts from Shayla telling them to run out on their bill.”
“Consider it done.”
“I’ll call you next week when I know more.” And just like that, the call ends.
I head back to the bar for the moment of truth. I don’t want the kids to know all the details. They don’t need to worry about the legal shit. For now, what matters is that they’re okay, and I just hope they’re okay with what I’m about to tell them.
I climb onto a barstool next to Daisy. “You know your mom’s not in the best place,” I say. “I’ve asked my lawyer if we can file some paperwork so you two can come home with me for a while. We’ll work out getting your stuff, and you’ll be able to see Mom after the lawyers handle their shit. But how would you feel about staying with me? Not here. My house.”
Daisy immediately climbs off her stool and throws her arms around my neck. “I want to redecorate my room.”
Holly nudges her in the back and frowns. “Dad, I want to stay with you, I do, but is Mom going to be okay? You know how she is.”
Daisy drops down onto her own stool again and pulls a face at her sister. “It’s not our job to worry about her, Hols. Do you think she was worried about us yesterday when she just left us?”
Holly shrugs. “I don’t know what to think.”
“Daisy’s right,” I say. “It’s not your job to worryabout your mom. It’s time for her to take care of just herself for a while.” I reach past Daisy and tap Holly on the nose. “And you too.”
She smiles a little at that. “We can still go to the same schools and everything?”
I glare at her, my lips pulling into a frown. “If this is about that Tyler kid…”
“Dad.” Holly shakes her head. “Stop. Nobody wants to change schools in their sophomore year.”
I assure her that everything will stay the same. The only change is they’ll get to decorate brand-new bedrooms at my place.
Holly looks troubled, but she hugs me hard. “Can we go now?” she asks.
“Go get your stuff from my room. I’m going to finish these motorcycle pancakes.”
