I’m able to coax Reggie back to his bed, where we sit in silence for a few minutes. There isn’t much I can say about his mom and her life because I don’t know what’s going on in her head. I can only speak for myself.
“I don’t know what it’s like to have your parents get divorced. You know grandma and grandpa are still married—”
“Grandpa drives grandma nuts,” he says, interrupting me. Again, he’s right. My mom is always whacking my dad with her handbag, the newspaper, or anything else she has close by, but they love each other.
“Yeah, he does,” I say, laughing. “What I’m saying, though, is I don’t know how to help you and your sister through this. I think we should see someone who can give us advice on how to cope with our feelings. I’m sure it’s hard to see your mom with someone else, and it’s going to be hard to see me with someone who isn’t your mom, but it’s going to happen, and I want to make sure you feel okay with it.”
“What if I don’t? Will you stop?”
His question catches me off guard. Will I? I find my heart seizing as I look at him. From side-to-side, my head moves slowly before I can get the words from my brain to my mouth. “If whoever I dated hurt you or your sister, I’d stop seeing them. I’m going to date Autumn and see how it goes, but I want you to know that you can always talk to me about anything.”
“What if Mom comes back?”
What a loaded question. How do I tell my son that even if his mother returned, it wouldn’t be to me? I don’t want her anymore. The damage she’s done to our marriage is unforgivable. I press my lips to his forehead and then pull him into my arms.
“I love you more than life, Reggie. I hope you know this.”
“I do. I just hate my life right now.”
“I know, Bud. What can I do to help?” I know I’m giving him the chance to tell me to stop seeing Autumn, but I don’t think he’d say this.
“I don’t know. I’ll think of something.”
Oh yes, the little con artist is back. I roll my eyes and tickle him, soaking in his laughs. “You gotta get to bed. You have a game at nine in the morning.”
He gets up and goes to the bathroom. While he’s gone, I go through his phone again, snooping like a nosy parent. I’m pleasantly surprised to find he doesn’t have anything downloaded that I don’t know about. Everything he found about Autumn and me is from Chatgram, which I’ve allowed him to have because he likes posting photos of him playing football, and I don’t want to take that away from him.
When he comes back into his room, I hand him his phone. “I went through it,” I tell him, wanting him to know.
“I’m not on anything I shouldn’t be.”
“I know, and I appreciate it.”
Reggie hops into bed, and I cover him up. “So, early wake-up. I’ll make breakfast, and then we’ll head to the field.”
“Is your girlfriend going to be there?”
“No, it’s your game. I’ll be there. And she’s really not my girlfriend. We just really like each other.”
“Oh,” he says, confusing me. Minutes ago, he seemed angry about Autumn. I lean down and kiss him. “Goodnight, Bud. I love you.”
“I love you too,” he says. I’m halfway out of his room when he adds. “She can come if you want her to.” I let the words linger in the air for a moment before turning back toward him.
“Do you want to meet Autumn? Your sister met her at the park a couple of weeks ago.”
“I dunno. Roxy likes her because she’s on TV.”
“Yes, but Roxy also likes everyone, so I’m not sure we can trust your sister’s judgment.”
Reggie laughs. “Roxy doesn’t like the lady downstairs who serves the ice cream because she never gives Roxy enough.”
“Point taken.” I lean against the door jamb, wondering if I should test the waters with Reggie and Autumn. It might be too soon for my son, whereas my daughter is ready to jump in with both feet because she thinks Autumn is pretty.
“Goodnight, Bud,” I say again.
“Dad,” he calls out. “If you want, you can ask her.” The mind of an eight-year-old gives me whiplash.
“Okay, I’ll think about it. See you in the morning.” I shut his door quietly and then cross the hall to peek in on Roxy. She’s at the foot of her bed, lying horizontally. I’m tempted to reposition her, but if she wakes up, I’ll never get her back to sleep.
I spend the next few hours picking up Roxy’s toys, doing the dishes, and listening to a podcast about being a better father, husband, partner, and person. By the time I’m done, I have enough time to shower and get ready for bed, where I plan to watch the news. Until meeting Autumn, I didn’t care what the weather would be like tomorrow and in the days to come, but now it’s all I can think about.
When I get out of the shower, I find Roxy sprawled out on my bed. “Lovely,” I mutter. Since her mother left, she’s had nightmares—me too, but of a different kind. I slip into a pair of boxers, which I hate sleeping in and crawl into bed. As soon as I’ve situated my pillows, her tiny voice echoes through my room.
“Hi, Daddy.”
“Hey, baby girl.” I reach over and pull my comforter over her, but she has a better idea and decides to squirm her way over to me. I turn on the TV and turn the volume down until Autumn is on air. I love listening to her speak and don’t even care if it’s about jet streams and fronts.
Autumn stands in front of her five-day forecast screen wearing Pioneer colors. Every part of me wishes she did this because of me, but I know someone else picks out her clothes for her. Still, I feel like this is a message. Yes, I want her to be my girlfriend and a part of my children’s lives, but is that what she wants?
When my phone vibrates at eleven-forty-five, a big smile spreads across my face. “I have to say, I loved your color scheme tonight.”
She laughs, and the sound goes right to my groin. The most we’ve done is kiss, and I have a massive hard-on for her. If this is any indication of how I feel about her, the moment we get to be together, to make love to each other, it will be explosive.
“Thanks. I told Meyers we could add some more color to my wardrobe.”
“Nicely done, Weather Girl.”
“What are you doing right now?”
I groan. “I feel like this is a segue into phone s-e-x.”
Autumn laughs again. “Roxy in bed with you?”
“Yep.”
“It wasn’t,” she says, “But now I’m thinking about it.”
“Stop,” I warn. “Nothing good will come from it other than frustration.”
“Okay, I’ll be good.”
“No, don’t do that either. Gah, I’m confusing myself.”
Again, with more laughter. “Okay, I’ll behave even if I’m a bit jealous of your daughter right now.”
“Oh yeah, do you want to be in my bed?” As soon as the words come out, I want to take them back. Yet, I don’t.
“Can I be honest with you?”
“Please do.”
Autumn clears her throat. “One hundred percent,” she says.