Page 103 of Room 4 Rent

“That’s why I’m calling. I get to see you tomorrow night.”

“Really?”

“Yep. You wanna come to my game?”

“I’d love to!” she squeals. “But I don’t wanna see Olaf again.”

I laugh. That damn talking snowman in real life really fucked with her. “We won’t go to Disneyland again.”

“Good. I love you, Boy.” And then she drops the phone. Can’t expect much from a three-year-old on the phone.

You know what I dream of now? Tatum in the stands, wearing a jersey with my name on the back and cheering me on as the guy who showed her what a dad could be like. And I’m one step closer to that. Oh, and marrying her mom, but that’s going to take some time to achieve.

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