“You practically live over there,” I reminded him as I went to the kitchen to make him an after-school snack. “They probably don’t want you over there all the time. They have enough going on.”
“They were going to help me with my biodome,” he said, climbing onto a stool.
“I’m not sure they’re the best people to help with that,” I told him. “The Svenssons’ biodomes are probably not even going to last the bus ride to school. Maybe you can do a little research first.”
“You’re right,” he said as I slid a plate of ham-and-cheese sandwiches and cut-up apples in front of him. I tried to keep the anxiety off my face as I watched to make sure he ate.
“Maybe I’ll just ask Amy instead,” he said and took a large bite of the sandwich.
I growled softly. “Or maybe you can just go bother the Svenssons.”
“Is that who you were thinking about?”
“When?” I asked, cutting up cheese, salami, and celery for him.
“In the car! Your eyes just went kind of glassy,” he said with a giggle.
The doorbell rang, saving me from a potentially embarrassing discussion that would inevitably find its way to the Svenssons and then around town.
“I don’t like Amy,” I whispered to myself. “She’s making my life complicated and messy.”
But not as much as the man who stood on the front porch, pacing impatiently as he spoke on the phone.
“Fifty thousand dollars to rent an elephant?” he asked. “Why do you need an elephant at the wedding, Tatiana? That’s insane. What the—no, I don’t think Gwyneth Paltrow is going to show up just because you have an elephant there.” My father pushed past me into the house.
“You can’t just—”
He held up a finger to shush me.
“Look, I—yes, of course I love you, baby! I’m marrying you, aren’t I? Yes, it is your special day. Of course you can have an elephant. Listen, I gotta go. I’m at the boys’ house. Yes, I’ll give them a big kiss from you.”
He ended the call.
“Sebastian, my least favorite child!” My father laughed.
I gritted my teeth at the joke he always made whenever he saw me. I had tried in the past to confront him about it, but he would just say he didn’t mean it and I needed to lighten up.
He held his arms out to hug me.
I ducked and whipped out my sanitizing spray and spritzed his hands.
My father rolled his eyes.
“You’re as neurotic as your mother. You need to lighten up. You’re going to turn Alfie into a little girl.”
“I’m trying to keep us all from getting sick,” I said, pulling out a thermometer and pointing it at my father’s head.
“It’s crazy. It’s no wonder you don’t have a girlfriend.” He shook his head.
“I’m busy raising a kid,” I said, my mouth a thin line.
“Just hand him a few thousand dollars and let him fend for himself,” my father insisted, turning and walking back toward the kitchen.
“Alfie!” he bellowed. “Alfie! Where’s my son?”
“He’s eating,” I said tersely to my father and grabbed his arm. “Did you look at the adoption paperwork I sent?”
“Not now.” He shrugged me off. “I’m not just going to sign over my kid to you. I told you. I have to think about it.”
