“She was in the bathroom, so I think so.” He wanders to the pantry to get out a box of cereal. Grabbing the milk for him, I put it on the counter while he gets himself a bowl and a spoon.
 
 “You have baseball practice tonight; Gigi is picking you up from school and you’ll hang with her until practice then I’ll meet you two there.”
 
 “Okay.” He dumps some cereal into his bowl. “Do we have to go to Mom’s after the game Saturday?”
 
 “That’s the plan,” I tell him, and he drops his eyes to the bowl.
 
 “What if I don’t want to go?” He shoves a spoonful of cereal into his mouth.
 
 “How about we talk about that later in the week and see how you feel then?” I suggest.
 
 “Whatever,” he mumbles, keeping his eyes on his bowl, and I let out a breath.
 
 His mom, Kristy, and I met when we were both in the military, and we had a good run, but we were always better off as just friends. We split when Coop was five and Billie was ten, but still spent holidays together, hung out at the kids’ activities, and threw shared birthday parties, never wanting the kids to feel like they weren’t the priority. The intention behind us building a healthy coparenting relationship was good, but because of all the time we spent together, I think he and Billie both believed that we would get back together eventually, something that was never going to happen.
 
 Then, a year and a half ago, that dream of theirs was washed away when Kristy started dating a guy named Aaron, and things got serious pretty quickly.
 
 Navigating that was difficult, but around the time he moved in with her a month ago Billie started putting up a fight refusing to go to their house every other week for Kristy’s scheduled time and Coop hopped on that train with his sister. And Kristy, not wanting the kids to be uncomfortable, has given in and just let them stay here with me. I don’t mind, I love having them around, but I know it’s not helping the situation. They aren’t going to get comfortable around Aaron if they never have to see him, and all the distance is doing is building a rift between her and the kids.
 
 Coming out of my thoughts when Billie ambles around the corner into the kitchen, I lift my coffee mug to my mouth to hide my smile. She didn’t come down in her pajamas with a blanket wrapped around her like she does when she’s sick. Instead, she’s fully dressed with her hair and makeup done. Not that she needs the makeup, she’s a gorgeous girl with blonde hair like her mom’s, big blue eyes, and freckles that she inherited from her great-grandmother.
 
 “Just so you know, I don’t feel better, but I don’t want to miss today because it’s auditions for the play.”
 
 “Sure.” I put my cup down.
 
 “I’m serious, I like totally don’t feel good.”
 
 “Okay, and if you are sick, you shouldn’t go to school.”
 
 “I’ll be fine.”
 
 “Are you sure?”
 
 “Yes, it’s just my period.” She glares at me.
 
 Fuck. I’ve obviously never had a period; I don’t know what it’s like to have cramps, but my sister used to get physically sick every month when she got hers, so I can only imagine how painful it is.
 
 “Do you have something to take for it?”
 
 “I took some Midol.”
 
 “If you want to wait until it kicks in, you can go in late.”
 
 “It’s fine.” Her tone softens and her shoulders relax. “My first class is just study hall, so I’ll be okay.”
 
 “Alright, sweetheart, but if you need me to pick you up early, just call.”
 
 “Thanks, Dad,” she says, taking the frozen waffles she pulled out of the freezer over to the toaster.
 
 “Do either of you need money for lunch?”
 
 “I still have money on my card left over from last week,” Cooper tells me.
 
 “I have money on my card too,” Billie says, pouring herself a cup of coffee. I don’t know when she started drinking coffee, but I’m pretty sure my mom is to blame. She lets the kids get away with murder whenever she watches them and is a regular at the local coffee house.
 
 “While you two finish eating, I’m gonna go get dressed.”
 
 “Okay, Dad,” Cooper says, and Billie mutters.