“Careful, Peanut,” I say. “I’m carrying precious cargo.”
She giggles as she steps back and then steals the box of cinnamon twists off the top. She squeals all over again. “My favorite! You’re the best! JACK! GET DOWN HERE! DAD’S COME!”
When she screams, she really channels her mother. She already resembles her, her hair loosely curled and the shade of tangerines. She’s naturally thin and even has the same birthmark on the apple of her cheek as her mother.
But Jack… he’s almost all me.
He comes tumbling down the stairs looking like a replica of me from when I was his age. His hair’s a caramel sort of brown that’s short and spiky and contrasts his blue eyes and flushed face. Like Tabitha, he leaps off the stairs and rushes toward me, vibrating from excitement.
I don’t get to see them as often as I’d like.
Custody agreement is every other weekend and all summer long.
Otherwise they’re primarily in their mother’s care, unless I’m invited over like the off-chance I was tonight.
They’ve gone from seeing me under their roof every day to only seeing me a few days a month, despite the fact that I’m often just a few miles away.
We head into the living room and start setting up for our movie night. Tabitha and Jack can’t agree on what movie we’ll watch. I chuckle along as I prop the pizza boxes open on the coffee table and let them snag first dibs.
“You two flip a coin. It’s an easier way to decide,” I tease them. “I’ll grab some paper plates.”
I step into the kitchen and reach for the cabinet where they’re kept.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
It’s Rachel. She’s appeared in the opposite doorway of the kitchen. The one that leads from the back hallway into the room, as if she’s been monitoring the situation all along. She merely let Tabby answer so she could observe from afar.
“We’re about to start the movie,” I answer.
“You know what I mean,” she snaps, stepping deeper into the room. “I didn’t say anything about eating in the living room. I meant we could have dinner at the table. In the dining room.”
“We’re watching movies, Rachel.”
“That’safterdinner. The kids aren’t allowed to watch TV as they eat. You know that, Jack.”
My teeth grind together. “It’s just once.”
“That’s what you always say. You always set me up to be the bad guy.”
“Then we’ll eat in the dining room. I’ll go break the news.” I can’t stand looking in her direction as I turn to the opposite doorway and start back toward the living room.
“And, Jack?” she says at the last second. “Don’t open my cabinets. You don’t live here anymore.”
It takes all the patience I have to keep from snapping back at her. From pointing out that she invited me over and suggested pizza and movies. That she knows I don’t mean any harm by grabbing some paper plates for the kids. I’ll buy her a thousand more paper plates if it’ll make her feel better.
But that’s not what Rachel’s scolding is about.
She doesn’t like that I’m still so comfortable in this house. That I move around it like I still live here, opening cabinets and sitting down on the couch.
That’s her right—I no longer live here. She got the house in the settlement. This is her place now.
But it doesn’t make it any less frustrating that I’m always put in situations like these. I can’t see my kids when I want to see them, and then when I get the chance, I’m still doing things wrong. I’m still the worst father in the world. I’m still the asshole ex-husband that can’t seem to please her.
The kids are disappointed about being recalled into the dining room.
Tabby lets her glum expression speak for her while Junior openly drags his feet and whines.
“But we were about to watchSpiderman!”
