Page 27 of The Single Dad's Guide to Recreation

“She does have an owie. But the doctor will make it better.”

“Wheh dada?” Percy asks, looking around suddenly.

“He’s on the way.” He doesn’t seem upset, but just in case, I divert his attention. “Do you want milk or water to drink?”

“Mik,” Percy says.

“I’ll get it,” Mabel says, jumping down from the table where she’s been quietly coloring.

“Thanks for being so helpful, Mabel. I’d be lost without you.”

“I know.” Mabel pulls a sippy cup from a drawer and carefully fills it and a small cup with milk. “But you have to feed the cat. The food is too stinky for me.”

After I cut up the quesadillas into wedges and serve them with chunks of avocado on top, Mabel tells me where the cat food is.

I look around the kitchen. “But where’s the cat?”

“She’ll come when she hears you. She’s shy.”

As I open the can, Mabel pinches her fingers over her nose. “Yuck!”

“It is kind of stinky.” The moment I set the dish on the counter, a tiny black cat appears out of nowhere. “Aww. She’s adorable.”

After I join the kids at the table, I ask, “What’s her name?”

“Jenny Linksy.”

“Like inJenny and the Cat Club?”

Mabel nods enthusiastically. “They’re my favorite books.”

“They were mine too.”

Her brows come together like I’ve disappointed her. “Not anymore?”

“Well, I’m not sure. I’ve read a lot of books since I was your age.”

Her lips twist to the side for a moment, but then she says, “Fair.”

As Mabel and I clear the table, both the cat and Percy get the zoomies, running in circles around the adjoining great room. I follow Mabel’s instructions for bathtime and the rest of their evening routines, managing to get Percy down just as he starts to get fussy. When Mabel and I snuggle in bed to read together, the cat crawls onto my lap. I scratch under her chin, and she purrs loudly.

“Jenny Linsky is afraid of most people,” Mabel says. “But she likes you.”

“Maybe because I like her.”

We take turns reading a couple of the Esther Averil classics featuring the little black cat adopted by a sea captain. Mabel’s reading ability seems to be pretty advanced for her age. Either that, or she has the books completely memorized. As I climb out of the bed and turn off the lamp, the moment feels bittersweet. I always tell myself that I’m happy to hand off the kids I work with to their parents at the end of the day, but if I’m honest with myself, I’d love to have this every night with children of my own.

If that were possible.

Pushing those thoughts to the side, I tuck the covers under Mabel’s chin. “Thanks again for your help today. You’re a very good big sister.”

“I know,” she says on a sigh so heavy it’s almost comical. “Do you have any brothers?”

I’ve babysat enough that I recognize a question meant to put off bedtime, but I answer anyway, telling her that I have an older brother and sister, that I’m the baby of the family.

“So I’m kind of, like, older than you,” she says.

Grinning at her logic, I turn toward the bedroom door just as a tall, dark figure steps through it. I open my mouth to scream but Mabel beats me to it.

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