Page 32 of Big Bad Single Wolf Dad

After our fantastic sleepover, things have gotten a little tense between our children over the past few days. I’m hoping today will be the perfect opportunity to smooth over some of the sticking points that seem to be coming up between them lately. Between the picnic food and the games I’ve prepared, I think I’ve got it covered. But in the back of my mind, I know it might take a little more than just this to sort things out.

The truth is, it’s not just the kids who are tense. In fact, a lot of their disagreements might stem from the awkward discomfort between their parents.

Sarah and I have been a little shorter with each other recently, but I can’t seem to get past the phone call I wasn’t supposed to hear. It’s much easier to get children to play nice than adults sometimes.

“Noah! Lily! Ollie! Time to go!” I call from the kitchen, grabbing the bags as I hear the patter of feet coming from the playroom.

“I don’t want to pay with Ethan and Mia,” Lily whines. “Can’t we just go to the park by ourselves?”

I put down the bags for a second, trying my best to listen to her concerns while still encouraging reconciliation.

“I know you might be feeling a bit uncomfortable with them, but I think it’s important to give people second chances,” I say, stooping down to look her directly in the eyes. I wonder if I’m giving her advice or myself. “Plus, you can’t play ultimate frisbee with only four people!”

At the mention of ultimate frisbee, Lily’s eyes light up, and I know I’ve won her over, at least for now.

“Yay! Frisbee!” she yells and runs toward the door with Noah and Ollie following close behind.

We all clamber into the car, but my heart races on the drive to the park where we’re supposed to meet up with Sarah, Ethan, and Mia. I want this to go right, but every time I think of Sarah, I also think of that phone call.

I keep trying to tell myself that I didn’t hear anything very incriminating, and a part of me knows that’s true. The alpha in me wants to just demand answers, but I’m also afraid I’ll scare her off by seeming too controlling.

It’s not like what I heard couldn’t have a number of reasonable explanations. If I fly into a jealous rage, I might embarrass myself and only convince her that the temper and attitude of a werewolf isn’t something she needs in her life. But no matter how much I talk myself down, the doubt still nags me in the back of my mind.

I have to push the thought away as we arrive at the park and I see Sarah and her kids.

“Hey there!” I call as I step out of the car with my kids in tow.

Sarah turns to smile at me, but it’s a slightly guarded smile. One I force myself to ignore for the sake of the kids and of starting the picnic off on the right foot.

I pull her into a hug, landing a gentle peck on her lips in greeting. She returns it, but I can still feel her holding back a little. Suddenly an intrusive question flashes across my mind. Is she distant with me because she’s thinking of someone else?

I shake the thought away, warmly greeting Mia and Ethan. I don’t want whatever tension is between me and Sarah to keep affecting our kids, and I double down on my resolve to use today as an opportunity to bring our two families back into harmony.

After Sarah has said hello to Noah, Lily, and Ollie, our kids reluctantly greet each other. Luckily, there’s only a little tension between them and no nastiness, and I take that as a sign that their friendship can be salvaged with just a little work.

As we make our way to a shady spot under a big oak tree, I take Sarah’s hand. I figure little gestures like this might be good not just for the kids to see, but for me and Sarah as well.

Once we’ve set up the picnic, it doesn’t take much coaxing for the kids to start warming up to each other, and after only one small argument over who gets the pink picnic cup, they’re munching away happily on the food.

“Who wants to play a game?” I ask once we’ve eaten and drunk our fill.

“Me! Me!” comes a round of voices, and I can’t help but smile.

“Alright,” I say, rummaging in the bag for a frisbee. “I thought we could play a game of ultimate frisbee but with a twist.”

I grin at the kids and Sarah, who are all looking at me curiously.

“Whenever you catch the frisbee, you say one thing you like about the person who threw it to you.”

The kids are on board immediately, just excited at the prospect of playing. Even little Ollie, who’s been playing the game, or some version of it, since he was old enough to walk.

“Sounds inspired,” Sarah tells me as we get up and scatter into the field.

I’m not sure if that’s meant as a compliment or a jab. The way she said it was ambiguous, but now’s not the time to dig into her meaning. Instead, I divide the kids into two teams, making sure it’s not me and my kids against Sarah and hers.

“But Dad, we have too many!” Noah exclaims as it becomes apparent the teams are uneven.

“That’s okay, I can just watch,” Sarah says before I get the chance to offer up another solution.

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