“Promise.” She holds out her pinky. “Swear.”
I pinky swear with her. Knowing my daughter would have crumpled like a cheap suit if she was lying.
“Your dad is just your dad. He’ll come and visit, maybe we’ll go back and visit him from time-to-time. He might not be able to come every weekend, but that’s what’s so great about technology.”
I say this even though the dipshit has only Skyped with her four times in the past two months. Whatever, I’m being the bigger person here.
“Yeah, but at school, Valerie says her dad is the Date Night Dad. Every Wednesday he picks her up from school and they go to dinner and a movie. He always has a present for her.”
“That’s nice.” My heart clenches over the fact that she doesn’t, and likely never will, have that type of relationship with her father.
She says nothing.
I knew this move would be hard on her. Miles away from a dad who never really put her first to begin with, his eye set on making partner at his firm and nothing else.
“Maybe my dad is a Sometime Dad?”
The line of cars on the road ready to drop off their children signals we’re nearing the school. The giggles of children mix with the hollering of mom’s I love yous. Teachers are ushering kids in through the front doors when we approach, but I stop Jade and bend down to her level.
“Jade,” I say, squeezing her shoulder. “Your daddy misses you and I know sometimes he works too much to call, but always know, he’s thinking of you. You’re his little girl.”
She nods. “I get it. He wants to be successful and make a lot of money because Nana and Papa didn’t have a lot.”
I ignore the spark of anger inside me. Pete needs to watch what he tells her. Money is not everything in life. No one gives a shit what your bank account balance is when you die.
“He just wants to make sure you have everything you want.” I tuck a strand of her brown hair behind her ear.
I don’t add in that he also wants a new sports car for himself, the condo on the beach, and all the other material things that attract the women whose biggest goal is to score a rich husband.
“He said he sent me a present.” Her eyes light up and I really hope she receives it this time around.
“See, he’s always thinking of you.” I open my arms and she rushes in squeezing my neck.
“Love you, bug,” I whisper in her ear.
“Love you, Mommy.”
We part ways and she skips ahead of me. “So, Sometime Daddy then?” she asks.
Should’ve known I couldn’t deter her from defining her daddy’s role in her life. She’s persistent.
“I’d prefer just Daddy, but...”
“Yeah, I’ll tell the kids I have a Sometime Daddy.”
We reach the steps of St. Patrick Catholic School, the buzz of early morning in full force. Two familiar moms stand at the bottom of the staircase sipping their coffees and having their usual morning chat about every other parent’s incompetence in the school.
“Victoria,” Darcie coos, pushing her long blonde hair over her shoulder. “Jade,” she says my daughter’s name like she’s been bouncing on the balls of her feet all morning to see her.
“Darcie. Georgia.” I bend down and tighten Jade’s ponytail, smoothing out the wispy unruly hairs. “Have a great day. Grandma will be here after school.”
“Okay. Love you, Mommy.” She gives me a looser hug than she did moments ago and before I’m standing upright again, she’s with a red-haired girl talking nonstop as the two venture up the stairs.
“Have a great day, ladies.” I turn to leave and head to the train station.
“Oh, Vikki,” Darcie says. I knew it would be asking too much to sneak away.
I smack on my court smile. The smile I had permanently fixed on my face when my ex and I were going through the divorce. The Stepford creepy-wife one that says I’m content and even-keeled, when really, it’s like World War Z in my head.
“Victoria,” I clarify for the five-hundredth time since we moved here.
“As you know, the carnival is a month away and since you missed the parent meeting, we signed you up to run an event.”
I stare blankly at her. Mostly because I will lose my shit and that will not help Jade with this transition. We need St. Pats. It’s the closest school to my house and it’s a good one.
“What event would that be?” I ask with the patience I can only assume I honed well while I was working for my old boss, Jagger Kale.
When exactly is this carnival? I don’t even know if I’m available. And a carnival? Seriously, get a new idea. It’s not the eighties.
“Your choice,” queen bee says. “Just make sure there’s no food involved. All food has to be inspected before coming in. We don’t want anything that could endanger the children. That should be easy for you, right?”
Again, I stare blankly at her, trying to compose myself before I grab her Starbucks cup and squeeze it until it soaks her ridiculous khaki belted jacket.
Hello, if I was a stay-at-home-mom and had all this time on my hands, I’d be sporting the ‘I’m on my way to the gym outfit’ when in reality I’m going home to lay on my couch And the only reason I’d be wearing yoga pants is because they won’t impede the pound of chocolate I’m going to consume. Ladies shouldn’t be ashamed of the bonbon stereotype. Everyone knows a mom’s real work is from six to eight in the morning and three to nine at night.
“Great, I’ll arrange something,” I say with a smile and a nod, then turn to step away before I tell her what I really think of her signing me up for something without my consent.
Like a flash of lightning in the sky, the sight of the smiling man leading a little boy up toward the school stuns me. I stop and stare, my mind blank.
I don’t think about the Sometime Daddy dilemma, or getting to work on time, or the carnival event I have to plan. Instead, I try to figure out how many years it’s been since I last saw Reed Warner.
Chapter Two
“Who is that?” Georgia whispers to Darcie behind me.
I turn and face them again. I’m surprised because I figured these two knew everyone at this school.
They already knew my name and Jade’s on our first day. Scary as shit, let me tell you.
“I have no idea, but I need to find out.” She sips her drink.
If I were among friends, I’d have made some smart-ass joke about their teenage behavior, but I’m just as enamored by this man.
His blue suit jacket is stretched across his broad shoulders with the front open, so I can see his taut waist with a crisp white linen shirt tucked in and a polka dot tie laying around his neck undone. The tips of his dark strands look damp and to top it off, a scruffy beard adorns his chiseled jawline. He’s not completely put together, as though he was running late and had to rush out the door.
He stops at the top of the stairs, says something to Principal Weddle that makes him laugh, gives the boy a hug, and then a fist bump. The boy smiles from ear to ear and heads inside.
Weekend Dad.
“Is he Henry’s dad?” Darcie poises it more like a question. “I thought...”