Rocco’s message comes in next.
Rocco: Sorry, bro. I’d love to hang out with Cam but I’m back at work today too
Rocco also works for the Sin Valley Saints. He’s been a part of the team’s crew of personal trainers for the past few years. He started spending more time here in Fairy Bush back when Easton was stationed out here, recovering from his ankle injury. But officially, Rocco’s life is in Sin Valley.
Oliver: I thought you had a nanny. What happened to her?
I create a voice note, explaining to the guys that I got ditched by yet another caregiver.
Rocco: Man, what the hell have you been doing to chase all those women away? Am I going to have to give you a crash course in how to deal with the ladies? Because this is getting concerning!
I hate that he’s sort of right. Charming women has been pretty low on my list of priorities in recent times. I’m more than a little rusty when it comes to dealing with the opposite sex. That was obvious the other night at Jules’s house. I may have given her an orgasm that made her toes curl, but now, she seems to be back to wanting to strangle me with her bare hands.
Another message comes in.
Oliver: When was the last time you went on a date anyway?
Internally, I grunt.
Me: Last weekend
Fooling around with Jules counts as a date, right?Close enough, I decide.
Rocco: Liar.
Easton: You should be meeting new people. Not bailing on every social interaction just to spend all your nights at your desk. Don’t think I didn’t notice that you snuck out of my housewarming party to go home early and work.
I snuck out of your housewarming party to go bury my face between Jules’s legs.But I’m content to let my brothers just think I was working that night.
Rocco: You should just get out there. Live a little.
I snort.
Lincoln: Yeah. Sure.
The last time I ‘put myself out there’, it ended with me nutting in my boxers then duck-waddling across Jules’s house atthe crack of dawn while some random woman sat on the couch, gawking at my bare ass. I have no intention to ‘put myself out there’ again any time soon.
And I amsodone with this conversation.
When a text message from Mom finally pops into the group chat, I breathe a sigh of relief .
Mom: Hey guys. Alba’s working late tonight so I’m on my way to pick up Jagger from school. I can get Cam as well. We’ll all have dinner together and you can pick him up later, Linc. Sounds like you could use an hour or two to yourself.
Gosh—my mother is a literal angel.
I message her back, letting her know that I’m eternally grateful for her help. I promise to swing by to get my son in a few hours.
But even though today’s childcare crisis has been averted, I can’t help but feel like a shitty dad. I mean, having a reliable system for picking my kid up from school is the bare minimum of functioning as a parent.
All those years, Cynthia made the parenting thing seem effortless. Not just school drop-offs and pick-ups. Play dates and doctor’s appointments and extracurriculars and sick days—she seamlessly managed it all.
Yet here I am, struggling, barely keeping my head above water. I’m starting to realize how much of my ex-wife’s labor I took for granted. Not a great feeling.
Maybe my potential business partners are right. Maybe everything they said about me over lunch is true. Maybe I do lack stability. Maybe I’m failing at life.
In this moment, I’m starting to see why those men would want their newest business partner to be married. Maybe what they’re requiring of me isn’t unreasonable after all.
My spiraling thought loops bring me back to that conversation I had with Jules earlier. My crazy suggestion replays in my head.
