“At special events.”
“Maybe today felt special just for being today.”
“If we lose, you’re not wearing that again.”
I’m laughing as I head down the hallway to my own small office.
Once I’m inside, I text Duncan.
I told my bosses.
He responds with a GIF of Zeus Berger dancing with the wordsI’m proud of youflashing over the top.
Also, everyone’s freaking out about me wearing a dress, I text.
They probably think it’ll be bad luck, is his instant response.
I bark out another laugh, and as I do, I realize I feel about a million pounds lighter.
Waiting for the next opportunity to interview for the manager position is the right call. Beingmehere is the right call. As is setting up an appointment with that therapist.
My life is already pretty good.
But I’ll make it even better.
23
Duncan
Breakfasts with Addieare my favorite.
Her place. My place. I don’t care which. They’re my favorite.
In the month since ourCroaking Creaturesdate, we’ve spent about half of them together.
The other half, she’s been traveling.
And then there are the days when we’re together, in public, making official appearances at kickball league games and volleyball league sign-ups and softball league award ceremonies.
Getting asked if we’re stillDaddie.
Responding with blank stares in the moment and cracking up about it later in private.
This morning, she’s at my place, debating with Paisley about if big dogs or little dogs are better. My niece swung by for free food before class. Addie showed up around one a.m. after a road trip up to DC.
I missed youwas all she said before she fell into my bed and passed out cold.
My heart is in a happy place.
“Big guys cannot have little dogs,” Paisley says. “It just looks weird.”
“Some people think it’s adorable.”
“They’re wrong.”
“My new life coach’s boyfriend plays rugby, and he carries his little dog in a sling everywhere they go,” I say as I slide an omelet in front of Paisley. Addie’s already eating hers. She has to be at the field before Paisley has to be at class.
“Life coach, Uncle Dunc?”
