one
. . .
Miles
I’mkillingit as a single dad.
“MJ, honey, we’re going to be late,” I called up the stairs.
“It’s 7:45 am, and I’m already exhausted," I mumbled to myself, stuffing my laptop into my bag and turning off the constant stream of music that flowed from my phone. Music was basically our love language.
I sighed heavily as I looked around our house, which looked like a tornado had hit it, with boxes strewn in every corner.
The house wasn’t usually like this, but after years of being in the home my daughter was born in, we were moving to another city, a move I prayed was what she needed to bring joy back to her life. The decision was overwhelming, but she’d always come first.
“Daddy, I’m coming, I’mcoming. Can’t find my English book,” my daughter answered, her voice getting louder as she bounded down the stairs. “School’s almost out. Who cares if I’m a few minutes late today?”
“This from the girl who made me wait outside of school a whole hour early on your first day? And I found it in the laundry basket,” I teased, pouring coffee into my travel mug. I could practically hear her rolling her eyes as she retrieved the missing book.
At nine years old, Madelyn Jane, the light of my life and reason for my existence, believed she was already a teenager. I was not prepared for this.Since she recently scored 130 on her IQ test, it was extremely important to let her be a kid for as long as possible.
“Breakfast burritoagain?” she grumbled, lifting the foil-wrapped breakfast-to-go to her freckled nose.
“Hey, don’t knock the burrito. Eggs, sausage, beans, and cheddar in a toasty flour tortilla is a well-rounded meal, kiddo.” I held mine up and said the words like a cheesy commercial, making her giggle. It was my favorite sound.
MJ was what my brother Luke called sunshine in a bottle; always smiling, singing, or dancing. Her voracious desire to learn meant she flitted from one hobby to another, in addition to her love of all things science. Astronomy, art, pottery, and even voice lessons topped the list. Music was what made her happiest, though. It was a passion we shared wholeheartedly.
Watching her gingerly gather her school things reminded me so much of her mother, Katy. My ex-wife’s exit from our lives still stung deeply, even though it had been almost seven years ago. Just like her daughter, everything about Katy was vibrant: her smile, her personality, even her clothes. Pushing the memories aside, I finished clearing the kitchen and put the eggs and cheese away in the refrigerator.
MJ slipped her backpack on and took a bite of her breakfast as I smiled at her eclectic style. She had recently announced she wasn’t into princesses anymore, to my dismay. Today, she wore a floral-print dress, a jean jacket, and black combat boots. They were a gift from her Aunt Sofia, my brother Luke’s wife.
But for several months now, she had seemed sad and a bit withdrawn, though she denied it when I asked. Something felt wrong, and that became the main reason I paid a high price to break my office lease in Crescent City, Northern California, and move back to San Diego to be near our family.
Noticing the time on my phone, I shook myself out of my thoughts. “Let’s go, kiddo.”
MJ held the front door open for me, pushing a few boxes out of the way as I nodded my thanks, my hands full with breakfast, coffee, and my messenger bag.
“I can’t wait to get to San Diego, Daddy. I forgot to check off yesterday on my calendar, but I know we move in eighteen days, right?”
“Yup. Right after school ends. And Mimi and Papa, Uncle Lukey and Aunt Sofia are counting the days, too.” We worked as a team to get all our stuff into my truck, and when we were both inside and buckled in, I exhaled loudly.
“You okay, Daddy?” MJ asked from the back seat, her sweet voice high-pitched, laced with concern. Looking at her in the rearview mirror, I pasted on a smile.
“A-okay, kiddo,” I answered. “Ms. Stacy will pick you up since I couldn’t move that meeting I told you about.” For this move to be seamless, a slew of staff meetings had to be held, and I hated not being able to pick her up. MJ had several friends who would be hard for her to leave behind, so I wanted to be the one there at the end of the day as the move got closer. She brushed off any discomfort as usual when I felt inadequate, always letting me know I was a good dad. But I constantly felt like I was swimming upstream and failing.
Reaching her long, skinny arms toward me, her fingertips met my shoulder. “It’s fine, Daddy. I told you. It’s no big deal.”
When she leaned back, I blew her a kiss in the mirror and drove her to school a few miles away. There were only a few weeks left in the city we’d called ours for years. Except for being so far from family, it had really been home for the two of us.
When we arrived at her school, MJ jumped out of the backseat and made a heart with her hands, just as she had every day since she was about four, and my own heart swelled with love as I returned the gesture.
“Bye, Daddy. Love you.”
“Love you too. Have a great day,” I yelled as her friends surrounded her and disappeared onto the school’s playground, where they “got their wiggles” out before class started, MJ called it.
Rubbing my jaw, I parked my truck in the parking garage under the building that housed my office, I let out a long breath, steadying myself for the day ahead. Grabbing my forgotten breakfast, coffee, and bag, I locked up and took the elevator.
I wasn’t inside the office even a minute before I was bombarded. It had been chaotic ever since I decided to move our home base to San Diego. I was grateful that about half my staff of fifty had chosen to follow me there.
