Page 10 of The Single Dad Dilemma

“I will.” She nods her little head up and down, her pigtails bouncing.

“She’s very pretty,” she says. “Don’t you think?”

Oh boy. “Um, yeah, she’s pretty.” Her question immediately makes my brow sweat. Darcy is beyond pretty. I can’t count the number of times I stuttered during that interview. Watching her mouth as she talked was torture.

I’m way too old for her. Her profile listed her as twenty-five, and I’m pretty sure the decade between us means she’d never be interested in me romantically. Plus, I’m like her boss. It’s so inappropriate. I have to keep these thoughts in the vault. And Lou seems to like her. I can’t afford for this not to work out. There’s a lot on the line.

After Darcy agreed to the position, we ran through logistics and exchanged phone numbers. I gave her my address and she’s meeting me here in the morning at eight so I can show her where everything is and give her a key and money. Since daycare didn’t work out, I’m giving them an allowance for activities and things they might want to get out of the house and do.

Being cooped up in the house would get old, I imagine. Or even if they want to go to the store and get stuff to bring back here, at least they have the option. If I know Lou, she’ll be begging Darcy to go to the pet store so she can stare at the fish tanks. Or to go to the craft store and invest in a whole new hobby to try.

Later on, as I’m putting Lou to bed, she crawls beneath the cover and slides her stuffed turtle in next to her. Next, she turnsand places a kiss on the picture sitting on her nightstand. It’s a photo of her mom that’s been next to her bed since she came home from the hospital. I had it by her crib first and then her toddler bed, and now her “big girl” twin bed she got this year.

She kisses it every night, and as a result, I have to disinfect the glass sitting over the photo often. But I’ll keep doing it because I’ll never make her stop. Part of me sort of hopes she’ll do it forever.

“Good night, daddy,” she says as she starts to yawn.

“Good night, sweetheart.” I lean down and place a kiss on her forehead.

“I want to wear my best dress tomorrow for Darcy,” she says, trying to fight off a second yawn. “And I want two braids.”

“We can worry about that in the morning.”

“And I think we should make her breakfast so her first day is special.”

Her eyelids are getting heavier, and I’m pretty sure she’s going to talk herself to sleep. “Okay, I think we have some things for breakfast.” I brush her hair back from her eyes, which are now completely closed.

“She… probably likes… coffee…” Her words are slow and then trail off completely.

I pull her comforter up higher and tuck it in around her sides. “I love you, kid,” I whisper. I stand and turn to leave, making a mental note to give myself extra time to do her hair in the morning. I can do braids pretty well, but it definitely takes me longer to get there.

I decide to take a shower before bed, so I grab some clothes from my room and a towel from the linen closet in the hallway. God, it’s been a long day. I turn on the water and adjust it a couple of times before I’m satisfied, then I undress and step in. The hot water hits my skin, and I immediately feel my body uncoil. All the rigidity in my muscles melts away as I bow myhead and let the water run down the back of my neck and my spine.

Like all my showers, while scrubbing some shampoo in, I make a checklist in my head of all the shit I need to do tomorrow. Give Lou braids, cook breakfast, make coffee, show Darcy around, and about a half dozen other things before I even leave for work.

This single parent thing is tough. I know way more moms in my position than dads, but we’re out here. Not that any of us get respect or recognition for it.

The truth is, until Vanessa told me she was pregnant, I was planted firmly in the “I’m never having kids” column. But after she told me, something just… shifted. Well, at least after the shock wore off. It’s not every day a one-night stand from three months prior reaches out to tell you that your life is about to change forever.

Lou hasn’t asked questions about the nature of my relationship with her mom. She assumes we were together, I think, though she’s never asked outright. And I’m not going to be the one to tell her that I barely knew her. Well, we were in the same friendship circle for a couple of months before we hooked up, so I knew a little. And during her pregnancy, I got to know more of her.

We agreed straight away that neither of us were interested in trying to force a romantic relationship out of the situation, but we did think co-parenting would be easier if we were at least friends. So I got to know things like her favorite color and what she liked to eat. I learned about her family, and her parents, though shocked, were surprisingly supportive about the situation. They were very welcoming of me from the start.

I don’t think that’s a dynamic Lou needs to know about or would understand at her age. The important thing is that I keep Vanessa’s memory alive for her as best as I can, whichincludes keeping Vanessa’s parents involved. They’re thrilled to have Lou in their lives. And thankfully, by extension, me as well. Considering I don’t speak to either of my parents and haven’t since I was twenty, it’s nice to have a little support.

Additionally, Alma and George are very good people. Vanessa’s death devastated them in ways I can’t imagine. So I’m glad they have Lou. I’m glad they still have a piece of their daughter. And I’m glad Lou has them, too, as a way to help know what her mom was like.

I didn’t go into detail with Darcy about the nature of my and Vanessa’s relationship. I really wanted to tell her, for some reason. She probably assumes we were together and that maybe I’m this grieving widow but I’m not. I don’t want her giving me sympathy for the wrong reasons. But the information also felt like an overshare at the time. Maybe it will come up later.

As I lather my chest with bodywash, these sudden thoughts of Darcy have my dick twitching a little. God, that’s really inconvenient. I know if I indulge that train of thought for even a moment, no good will come of it. Still, I don’t resist the urge to reach down and relieve myself.

I work my hand over my shaft, stroking from the base up to the head and back down. My eyes shut on their own as I groan and think of Darcy’s tits. That little dress she was wearing was tasteful, but she’s curvy and there’s not much you can do to cover a chest that abundant. She didn’t have any tattoos that I could see, but oftentimes people have a few hidden, and it makes me wonder what I would have found if I’d lifted up that flowing skirt or pulled at that zipper down her back. Something tells me I wouldn’t have been disappointed, even if there were no ink to be found. Christ, I bet her skin is smooth and warm.

There’s a grunt escaping my throat, and the next thing I know, I’m spilling all over the bathtub. A skosh of shame washes over me.Christ, you just jerked it to your nanny.It’s not as ifI’ve had a lot of sex lately. I’ve been a little deprived for, oh, five years or so. I can count on one hand the number of nights I wasn’t alone in bed since Lou was born. It’s been a real dry season, okay?

Twenty minutes later, I’m in bed. My hair is still a little damp and my dick only feels fifty percent satisfied. But that will have to do.

SIX

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