Chapter Twenty-Seven
Grow A Pair
Rod
‘Hey Siri. Text Colt: I think I am delirious.’
‘To Colt: I think I am delirious.’
‘Add a crying emoji.’
‘I think I am delirious. Crying emoji. Send?’
‘Yes, please.’
‘Sent,’ Siri chirps, as if this is all a great thing and not the potential undoing of what I thought was my responsible dad era. No shaking up Tali’s life. No taking chances that might not pan out. This era, obviously, was drawn out before Jordan.
I take a turn out into the big park district parking lot, where Tali is just wrapping up her karate class. Something scratches at my finger when I wrench the steering wheel around to get my minivan into a tight parking spot. The little paper ring the kids made.
Jordan in a sparkly plastic crown with flowers through her hair like something out of a Disney movie.
The extra-loud slam I give the door when I get out of the car snaps me out of my trance quickly enough. Not that I’m not still thinking about the fucking camp wedding.
My phone pings as I head for the front doors to the community centre. It’s Colt, naturally.
Colt: Is this another Jordan situation?
I jab back a reply.
Me: Unfortunately. There was a fake camp wedding. Thrown off the deep end.
Colt: GROW A PAIR.
Colt: Feelings are normal. You can tell her.
Me: I think the reason this thing has been working is that neither of us is emotionally available. You know?
Me: Telling her would ruin it.
It feels more finite when I see it in text. Neither of us is emotionally available. Obviously that’s how impulsive flings work. The goal was never long term. It was always this. I mean, Jordan leaves in – what – three weeks, when camp ends?
That thought isn’t one I’m ready to cope with.
I nearly run smack into the set of double doors to the gymnasium in the community centre, catching the attention of an elderly woman heading down the stairs from the treadmills.
She goes wide-eyed with concern. I shoot her what I hope is a reassuring smile.
Colt: That’s what I thought. But it worked out.
Me: You’re one in a million. Might not work out for the rest of us.
Colt: You deserve better bro.
Colt: I know you love your kid and I know what happened with Charlotte was awful.
Colt: But you have to trust that there might be a woman out there who can prove you wrong.
The sounds of chattering kids and instructors nears once I reach the second court, where class is just wrapping up. A lump grows in my throat as I read Colt’s message, and I stuff my phone in my pocket: avoidance. Time to switch on Dad Mode.
As all the kids in their white karate gis head straight for their parents, I follow the template, big grin and open arms. Dad Mode is a setting I’ve perfected over the past few years, but it’s no less real.
I do it because my daughter is my everything, and I refuse to let the drama I’m dealing with touch her.
‘Tals!’ I exclaim as she crashes into me in a blur of white and her newly earned green belt. Today, I finally figured out a new hairstyle for her before I left for camp in the morning – the bubble braid, which I think might be a new favourite. ‘Did you have fun?’
‘Yep,’ she confirms, as usual. I grab her Crocs from the little wood rack in the corner and place them in front of her so she can slide them on. She takes my hand as I thank her teacher, after which we start the walk to the lobby. At this point, she blurts, ‘I wanna go ride with Jordan.’
‘What?’ I try not to let the shock show in my voice, but it definitely comes through. Our matching strides fall slightly out of step when I stall. ‘How come?’
‘She’s so cool, Daddy. She knows all about horses.’ Tali sighs, tugging at her bubble braid. ‘And Riley and Nina said they went riding with their mommas before. Why can’t I?’
My chest tightens. Shit, shit, shit. Tali, as much as I love her, drops the mom bomb on me when I least expect it.
Especially right now. And especially in this way.
In the way that implies Jordan is becoming more than just Tali’s latest role model.
‘Your momma’s not around, champ. I’m so sorry, Tali girl. But—’
‘I mean Jordan, Daddy.’
Okay. So we’re beyond implying now.
‘You can go with Aunt Genny, Tal,’ I try. Please do not make me cross this line, Tali. ‘She can take you whenever you want, you know that.’
‘Daddy.’ Tali is normally a happy-go-lucky kid.
I got lucky. Even when it was just me and her, when she was the length of half my forearm and I could fit her head in my hand, she cried rarely, was soothed easily.
Yet her voice wobbles with a hint of sadness.
Being a kid is great, until it really fucking sucks, because all your friends are out getting their nails painted with their moms, and yours is nowhere in sight.
Maybe I don’t know what that feels like.
As a matter of fact, right now, I can name one other person who does.
‘I just wanna go with Jordan.’
My heart twists and turns and breaks in half. Colt’s text about proving me wrong swims in my peripheral.
‘I can ask her when she’s free.’ I stop Tali as we just exit the doors to the community centre.
I kneel down on the sidewalk in front of her, my sweet girl; the look on her face is that of a kid growing up too fast. Her tiny shoulders hitch with emotion.
My throat constricts. I press my hands to her little cheeks.
‘Daddy, you have those callouses,’ she sniffs.
‘That is a very professional word.’ I manage a smile. ‘For a very professional girl, all grown up. Asking me to go riding.’
‘I am grown up!’ she protests, and I nod with a laugh.
‘You are, champ. And that’s why I gotta let you have more strong women in your life who you can learn from.
’ I ruffle her hair, which doesn’t work as well as I think, what with that bubble braid I’d put in, but she giggles, the desired effect.
‘Like Jordan. So yeah, you can go ride with her. Just tell me when. And be safe. Capisce?’
‘Capisce,’ she repeats. I exhale in relief when that wobbliness leaves her voice, her face starting to glow with excitement. ‘I love you, Daddy.’
‘I love you, sport.’
We walk back to the car, and everything I just said to Tali sticks to my teeth like sugar after a can of soda. She’s starting to realize she needs more strong women in her life. It’s easy for me to tell her that. Now it’s time I believe it. Believe what Colt said. I text him before I start the car.
Me: Where do I even start?
Three little dots. He’s typing.
Colt: Ask her on a real date, goddamn it. And just watch. Let her prove you wrong.