Chapter 2 Seth
Seth
Chasing a feral toddler is not for the faint of heart.
I swear to god, she’s trying to make my heart fail.
Once, Emily ran out into the street as a car was heading right for her.
Her brother, Harrison, was there and pulled her out of the way just in time.
I almost hauled my butt to the ER to make sure I wasn’t about to die.
This time, she’s running out of the bathroom naked after her bath, about to tumble down the stairs, before I catch her.
“Oh, no, you don’t, missy,” I say, lifting her into my arms with the towel and bringing her into the bathroom to dry off. She fights me as she’s prone to. The girl wants to be a wild animal, doing whatever she wants. I don’t look forward to the days when she’s driving or dating.
After she’s dressed in her PJs, I sit her on the closed toilet lid and try to brush her blonde tangles.
She screams at me, “No, daddy! No hair!”
She hates having her hair brushed. I’d shave it off if I wouldn’t get in trouble with weird parents or people I don’t know. God forbid a little girl has short hair. Emily would love nothing better.
“Stop fussing, Peanut.”
“No hair!”
I spray the detangler in the strands, which helps.
“Dad!” yells Sawyer, my six-year-old, through the closed bathroom door. “I need help with reading for school.”
“Can you ask Harrison?”
“No, I don’t wanna. He’s mean.”
“He’s not mean.” For the most part, Harrison’s a good kid who helps me out a lot. But he’s only ten, so he has his own moods sometimes.
“He is. He tried to drown Monster in the toilet yesterday.”
I sigh and chuckle. “Okay, let me get Emily ready for bed, then I’ll help you read.
” And I’ll need to have a talk with Harrison about Sawyer’s stuffed monster.
He can’t sleep without it. I’m positive Harrison wouldn’t harm it, but still, Sawyer is very attached to it.
If you simply look at his monster wrong, he’ll freak out.
I love my kids, but taking care of them alone for the past two years has been trying, especially while dealing with the divorce and running a business.
The drop-off daycare was something my ex-husband, Malcolm, and I did together.
After the divorce, he washed his hands of me, the business, and our kids.
I thought he’d at least want to help raise the children, since we worked so hard to adopt them.
There were three siblings, and we didn’t want to separate them.
Yeah, it was a lot of work having an infant, a toddler, and a school-aged child.
It wasn’t easy helping them adjust and be happy, but I guess it was too much for him.
I’ve been on my own since. I could file a suit against him to make him pay child support, but let’s face it, I not only make enough money, but I’d never see a dime anyway. I’d rather move on with my life without adding more stress, which would be especially hard on the children.
The only break I get is on poker night every other Friday with my friends. Royal Dad’s Poker Night is a poker team set up to create a community between queer fathers.
And tomorrow is game night. I can’t wait to see the guys.
Emily looks up at me with large, dark brown eyes. “Daddy, can you wead ‘Da Most Mag… Magni… Magisifant Ding?’”
“Of course, Peanut.”
God, should anything happen to that book, all hell would break loose. We read it every night, and it’s starting to look rough. I’ll need to buy a new copy soon.
After I’ve finished Emily’s hair, I leave her to play in her room and make my way to talk to Harrison.
I knock on his bedroom door and wait for him to respond. I do my best to teach my kids independence and autonomy, so I let them shut their doors, except for Emily, who’s too young.
“Yeah?”
I open up and walk in to find my eldest watching videos on his tablet. His dark brown curls are falling in his face, reminding me that I need to get them all haircuts soon.
“Sawyer said you were mean to Monster.”
He shrugs and keeps watching his videos. “He was being a whiny turd.”
I make sure not to smile as much as I want to. “Little kids can be a pain sometimes, but that’s no excuse to take it out on poor Monster. You know how your brother feels about him.”
“Fine. Whatever.”
“Thank you…”
Jesus, he’s already going from ten to a teen.
“Is your homework done?”
“Yeah.”
If Harrison is good at anything, it’s school, so I don’t worry too much in that area.
“Bedtime is in an hour.”
“Seth?” he says before I close the door behind me.
He’s the only one who doesn’t call me ‘dad.’ Sawyer was three years old, and Emily was an infant when Malcolm and I adopted them.
They don’t know any other parent other than me.
They don’t even remember my ex-husband, except for Harrison, but he was seven at the time.
He still remembers his deceased mother and his absent father.
When Malcolm left, I had to put Harrison into therapy because he was already dealing with abandonment.
“Yes, Hare.”
“Do you think you’ll ever get married again?”
I step back into his room and sit on the edge of his bed. “Why? What brought that on?”
He shrugs again and still won’t look at me. “Some kid in my class made fun of me for being adopted. Like maybe if you get married to a girl, then kids won’t make fun of me so much.”
He finally looks at me with dark brown eyes when I comb back the curls from his face with my fingers.
I’m calm on the outside, but on the inside, I’m raging that kids can be so cruel sometimes.
“You know I’m gay, honey. Marrying a woman isn’t going to happen.
Besides, those kids shouldn’t be making fun of you at all.
There’s absolutely nothing wrong with being adopted or having one parent.
Even if I were married to a woman and you weren’t adopted, that boy would find something else to pick on you about. That’s how bullies work.”
“I guess, but will you get married again?”
“Do you want me to?”
“I don’t know… What if they leave, too?”
My heart aches for him. I completely understand his fear. Despite all that work with the therapist, his abandonment issues linger.
Marriage is the last thing I want. It’s been two years since Malcolm left, and I still have no interest in dating. Life is busy enough without having to navigate a relationship. I’m not in the headspace for a boyfriend. It’s hard to trust after that.
“Maybe one day, but not anytime soon. Do I need to talk to your teacher about the bullying?”
Harrison shakes his head and looks away again. “Mrs. Willis already talked to him and said it wasn’t nice to make fun of me, but he still does it.”
I make a mental note to talk with his teacher anyway. The last thing I want is more setbacks with my son. He’s had a hard enough road as it is. I don’t need some punk kid to undo all that work. Harrison deserves happiness and confidence.
“We’ll deal with it. Anything else you’d like to talk about?”
“No.”
I lean forward and kiss the top of his head. “You can always talk to me about anything. I love you.”
“Love you.”
Harrison saying those words back fills my heart every time. It took him over a year to say them.
I leave his room and head to Sawyer’s room to help him read before I read to Emily. Then it’s an early night for me.
Call me old-fashioned, but I love reading a physical newspaper instead of on my phone. There’s something about the crisp paper under my fingertips and the smell of newsprint, along with my coffee, that gets me going in the morning.
I head outside to grab my paper from the driveway before the kids are awake. It’s still dark out, but the sun is rising, casting the neighborhood in a gray hue. It’s humid as always, and it will only grow worse as the day warms up.
Malcolm and I moved into this house before the kids came to live with us.
We bought it to ensure we had space for all three of them, each with their own room and independence.
The home was newly constructed when we moved in, and part of a great school district, which is perfect for raising a family.
When I reach for my newspaper on my driveway, I stop in my tracks to look at my neighbor’s yard. Something odd and out-of-place catches my eye.
He’d moved in several months ago. Calvin freakin’ Abernathy.
Why the hell does he need a five-bedroom house while living alone?
All he does is complain about my kids’ toys or the noise they make.
Granted, sometimes their stuff spills into his yard, but I try to keep up with it.
Still, he’s never satisfied. I have nothing against him, but I am wary around him.
I walk closer to his yard to find him sipping coffee and wearing only light blue boxers and a matching bathrobe.
He’s shirtless, and even in the dim lighting, I can see how fit and tan he is.
If he weren’t so annoying, I’d find him attractive.
Fine, he’s highly attractive, hot even, but I’d never be interested in someone like Calvin.
If I ever date again, he has to like kids and be patient.
My neighbor isn’t patient, and so far, doesn’t seem interested in kids at all.
He takes no notice of me while he takes a sip from his mug, before he bends down and grabs an animal wicket from Sawyer’s croquet set and stacks it on the other toys.
The zebra wicket sits at the top, and underneath are Harrison’s bike, Emily’s Cozy Coupe, a bubble lawn mower, balls, mallets, a toy gardening set, and more.
I guess it’s fair to be annoyed with the toys if my kids left all those in his yard. I’ve already told them several times to stop doing that and to pick up after themselves.
“What are you doing? It’s five thirty in the morning,” I say, circling the strange toy totem.
“Oh, you know… I have nothing better to do than make pretty lawn art out of your kids’ toys left in my yard… again. Nothing wakes you up more than cleaning after your neighbors’ children. It’s not like I have a job or anything.”
“Look, I’m sorry. I’ll talk to them about their mess again. Next time, come grab me, and I’ll pick up their stuff.”
Calvin ignores me, takes another sip of his coffee, stands back, tilts his head, and examines his handiwork.
I try not to stare at his boxers and wonder what’s inside them.
Good thing they’re the loose-fitting kind.
Try as I might not to stare, my eyes drag downward to those sexy gutters and the light brown happy trail, which travels underneath the elastic band of his underwear to an area I’m trying not to think about.
I bet he’s good in bed, too. Men sure seem to like him, judging by those who come and go from his house. Once, I saw a woman leaving. So, he must be bisexual or something.
Stop thinking about his package and sex, Seth.
God, I need to have sex. It’s been way too long. I’m so danged touch-starved that I’m wondering what it would be like to sleep with my jerky neighbor and imagining his dick.
Calvin points at his package after catching me staring. “Like these? They’re Ralph Lauren.”
I avert my eyes, and my face incinerates. Thank god the sun isn’t up yet.
“I wasn’t staring.”
He scoffs at me. Yeah, I wouldn’t believe me either. “Sure, you weren’t, but that’s okay. I am impressive.”
I roll my eyes harder than when Harrison does it to me. “Jesus. Cocky much?”
Calvin chuckles, bends down, picks up a baseball, and precariously places it on the very top. I have no idea how he manages to keep everything balanced without toppling over. Honestly, it’s kind of cool looking, like those stacked stone sculptures you see whenever we’re hiking.
He puts the mug to his lips, tilts his head back, and finishes off his coffee. “Not bad, if I do say so myself. Nice to see my master’s in architecture paying off.”
“Anyway, I’ll talk to my kids.”
He huffs an annoyed laugh at me, or maybe I’m just projecting. “You do that. I’m sure it’ll work as much as all the other times you’ve ‘talked’ to them.”
He says nothing else and walks away, his open bathrobe billowing behind him, exposing a perfectly round and solid butt.
“Jerk,” I whisper. It goes against my nature to be rude, but Calvin Abernathy doesn’t make politeness easy.
As soon as he steps into his house, I dismantle the totem and bring the toys back to my yard. When my boys get home from school, I’ll have them put everything away. Emily can help, too.
I head back inside, make myself a cup of coffee, and sit down to read the paper. It’s routine, and I can’t start my day without either. I need the quiet time before my kids wake up, and it becomes pure chaos.
But I love every minute of it. I’d have it no other way.