Chapter Four Ozzy
Chapter Four
Ozzy
Friday morning, I broach the topic while I pack lunch for Lola and myself. Tia and Amos have already eaten their eggs and sausage. Now they’re sipping coffee and staring out the dining room window at the bird feeders.
“I have plans tonight. I can ask the sitter to watch Lola if you have plans too. Otherwise—”
“Are you going to Diego’s? Lola would love to play with Kai,” Tia says without looking in my direction.
“No. I’m going to dinner with some people from work.” I don’t want to lie, but I don’t have time to argue this morning, and the truth would spark an unnecessary fight.
My date could be a one-and-done, so why start something now?
“Will you be drinking?” Tia asks.
I don’t drink around my in-laws, but that doesn’t mean I pass up an occasional beer when I don’t have to worry about people judging me. “Just water.”
“What time will you be home?” Tia prods.
“By ten.” I slide my lunch sack into my backpack just as Lola runs up the stairs.
“Teeth brushed. Bag packed. Let’s go, Dad.”
I grab her shoulders and kiss her head. “Here’s your lunch.”
She wrinkles her nose. “It’s not chicken again, is it?” She jams it into her backpack.
“Nope. It’s leftover pasta.”
“Yes!” She skips to the back door and shoves her feet into her red sneakers without untying them.
“We’ll be home. You don’t have to ask the neighbor to watch Lola.” Tia carries her coffee mug to the kitchen sink.
“Thanks,” I say before shutting the back door behind us.
I escort Lola to school, clock in my eight hours at work, and make it home in time to discover my wardrobe is stale and a decade out of style. I didn’t think this through. Brynn picked out my clothes whenever we had someplace to go that required more than jeans and a T-shirt. I own two ties and one suit. Is this a suit date? I don’t know. All four of my button-down shirts are faded and worn or missing buttons.
“Where are you going?” Lola jumps onto my bed and crosses her legs.
“Out with friends from work.” I pull a pilled-and-dated sweater from my dresser drawer. Who am I kidding? Despite the temps dipping into the forties tonight, I’ll sweat through this thing before I get to the restaurant.
“Are any of your friends girls?”
I keep my back to her. “Maybe. Why?”
“No reason.”
“That’s what I figured.” I smirk, daring her to say more after Tia scolded us. “What should I wear? One of these button-down shirts?” I hold up the two shirts that aren’t missing buttons.
Lola wrinkles her nose. “Wear your shirt that Aunt Jenny gave you.”
It’s a black T-shirt that says That’s what I do. I fix stuff. And I know things. I don’t think I’ve ever worn it, so it’s not faded.
“Lola, it’s not very dressy.”
“Why do you have to wear something dressy to go out with friends?”
She’s right. I’m riding my bike to dinner. A suit wouldn’t fit with my mode of transportation.
“The T-shirt it is.” I pull it on, and it looks pretty good with my dark jeans and boots. “Should I trim my scruff?” I rub my chin in the full-length mirror.
“I like it prickly.” She smiles.
“You do, huh?” I turn, resting my hands on the bed and nuzzling my prickly face into her neck.
She giggles and squirms. “Stop!”
I fix my hair in the mirror, shifting my gaze to Lola, my wife’s mini-me. Will the day ever come that I see Lola as Lola and not Brynn’s reflection?
“Okay. I have to get going. Be good for Nana and Pa, okay?”
“Will you be home before I go to bed?”
“Probably not. So give me a hug and kiss.”
She stands on the bed and throws herself into my arms. “Look for a pretty woman who likes kids,” she whispers.
I chuckle, lifting her off the bed and onto her feet. “You don’t give up, do ya? Good night, pumpkin.”
When I reach the main floor, Tia ignores me while reading her book in Brynn’s cream glider.
“Have a good time,” Amos says, turning down the volume on the television.
“Thanks.” I zip my jacket and grab my helmet.
I hope Maren has a thing for guys with helmet hair.