Page 9 of The Single Dad's Guide to Recreation

She blinks slowly. “Your name is… Pussy?”

“It’sPercy.” I clear my throat. “He’s still, uh, working on hisR’s.”

She swallows a laugh, but I don’t manage to squelch mine.

Avery crouches until she’s nose to nose with my son. “Are you named after Percy Jackson?”

As Percy nods vigorously, I shake my head no. “It’s a family name on his mom’s side.”

Before I can explain our family situation, the door behind her opens suddenly and a panicked woman whispers, “Avery, we’ve got a blowout.”

Avery grimaces. “Let me guess. Theo?”

When the woman nods, Avery just turns up the wattage on her smile. “Good thing the weather’s nice.”

Moments later, everyone but Avery, Theo, and Theo’s caregiver has moved outside so that a poopy mess can be cleaned up in the playroom. As the toddlers run around the small, fenced-in yard, the other parents introduce themselves to me.

“You play tennis?” Another dad in the group, a broad-shouldered guy with a close-cut Afro, holds out his hand. “Paul Coleman. We’re always looking for players in the league.”

“I do, but probably not as well as you,” I say, trying not to wince while his hand crushes mine. “You’ve got quite a grip there.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. Give me your number.” He looks up from his phone. “Unless you play pickleball.”

I have a feeling there’s a right and wrong answer here, but I just give him the truth and hope for the best. “Uh, no. I don’t.”

He brushes an exaggeratedWhewacross his brow. “I’ll get you on the roster.”

“That’d be great. I’m new to the area and don’t know many people. I have to work around my kids’ schedules, but if you’re okay with that…”

“I got you. My wife’s the one with the big salary too.”

“I’m a widower,” I explain. “So it’s just me.”

“Oh my goodness,” one of the moms says, appearing next to me. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“Thanks. It’s been tough, but we’re getting through it. My parents have been a big help.”

“It’s good you have their support.” Another mom steps up, tipping her chin at Percy. “Is he your only child?”

“I have a little girl too. She’ll be in first grade in the fall.”

I’m saved from further interrogation by a squabble on the climbing structure. By the time that’s settled, Avery has returned.

“Theo and his granddad went home to clean up,” she says. “It’s still a bit fragrant inside, so I think we’ll stay out here.”

The children flock around Avery like cartoon birds and mice around Cinderella. At her instruction, they plop down crisscross applesauce, and she does an admirable job of getting them to sit without squirming too much, or, as in the case of Percy, sitting too close to his neighbors. I follow the parents to a couple of picnic benches nearby.

“I’m so happy to see you all today!” Avery says, her expression as cheery as her tone. “I’m happy to see Liam and Amelia and Olivia and Samar and Naomi. And the newest member of Playgroup, Percy.”

She sweeps her gaze over all of the kids as she says, “Can everyone say hello to welcome Percy?”

A chorus ofHello, Pussyshas me wondering if we should start calling Percy by his middle name.

Avery claps her hands together. “First, we’ll read three stories. Then we’ll have building time before snack. After that, we’ll learn a new game. Then we’ll have more free play before it’s time to go home.”

After catching nods and “okays” from only two children and one adult, she adds, “Can I see hands for everyone who heard the plan?”

It takes a bit of prodding but once everyone either raises a hand or gives her a verbal confirmation, Avery whips a stack of books out of a bag behind her little chair.

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