Chapter 3
THREE
Deacon
Most people hate Mondays. They hate being pulled away from their families, from the autonomy of a few days when they don’t have to answer to a boss or deal with a to-do list.
To me, Mondays are something to look forward to. A welcome distraction.
I hate Sundays—today.
I slide my laptop into my case, along with the pile of papers that I’ll work through this afternoon and then take back to the office tomorrow.
Switchover day is always the worst day of my week because it’s the day I move out of the house I used to share with my ex, I leave my daughter, and I go back to Hotel on Ninth Street, where I stay for three nights.
My ex, Gabby, moves in from tonight until Wednesday and then we switch again.
It’s called nesting. It’s not the most conventional arrangement.
But it means that Willow doesn’t get shuttled between Gabby and me.
Willow stays in her own bed, in her family home, and Gabby and I move in and out.
It gives Willow stability and certainty.
She doesn’t live out of a suitcase. She doesn’t have to worry that she’s left her homework with Daddy or her favorite toy with Mommy. She only lives in one place.
As a former army brat, I know what it’s like to never call one place home for long and I don’t want that for my daughter.
The nesting arrangement works for all of us.
But I still hate the idea I won’t get to see my daughter again until Wednesday.
Every week, I get reminded that I’ve fucked up. I didn’t manage to hold my family together enough for us all to share a house—to be a family.
Gabby and I split three years ago when Willow was three. It was sort of amicable. Or at least it felt that way. Neither of us cheated. If either of us had, it may have poisoned our relationship to such an extent that we wouldn’t be able to have the arrangement we do now.
Fact is, I couldn’t give Gabby what she needed.
I worked all the time. My number one priority was making sure that I could put Willow in a position where she was financially taken care of for the rest of her life.
As soon as she was born, that’s all I could think about—if I died tomorrow, would Willow be okay?
And so I buried myself in the office. And when I emerged, all I wanted to do was hang out with Willow. There was no room for Gabby.
I can’t blame her for ending things. She did the right thing.
But I still hate switchover day.
The deal is, I’m gone by 8 a.m. on Sunday morning. I’m never late. But I’m never early either. I make sure I spend every last second with Willow.
“Daddy, I brushed my teeth,” Willow says as she stands in the door to my bedroom.
She certainly did. She’s got the toothpaste all around her mouth to prove it.
“You’re such a big girl,” I say, as I lift her into my arms. “You can even brush your teeth yourself. You’re not going to need Daddy for anything soon.”
Willow’s growing independence is incredible to watch but also terrifying.
It’s all going so quickly. I want to just stay here awhile.
I want to sit and enjoy these moments where she likes to dress up as a fairy and have tea parties with her teddies.
I’d happily stay like this forever. I’m the most important man in her life.
And she’s the most important woman in mine. Things with Gabby are fine.
Everything works.
Willow presses her palms to my cheeks. “I love you, Daddy.”
“I love you more,” I say.
“I love you more more,” she says.
“Impossible,” I say.
“Possible.”
I shake my head. She will never comprehend how much I love her. I didn’t know I was capable of feeling anything so ferocious as the love I feel for Willow until she was born. I would jump off the Empire State Building for her. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for this pudgy-handed beauty in my arms.
“I’m going to miss you,” I say.
“I will see you Wednesday, Daddy. That is only three sleeps away.”
“I know. I’ll still miss you.”
“And I will FaceTime you after school like I always do.”
I chuckle at Willow trying to make me feel better. She’s the best kid in the world.
“I know. But I can still miss you. I’ll be okay. I’ll see you soon. I’ll just miss you.”
She grins at me. “My tooth might be loose by then.”
She hasn’t lost any teeth yet, but she’s really hoping it’s going to happen soon.
“You never know.”
“You think it will?” she asks.
“Maybe.”
The sound of the key in the lock has me checking my watch. It’s exactly 7:55 a.m. The time that we agreed Gabby should arrive. I have five minutes to leave.
“You want to help Daddy with his suitcase?” I ask.
Gabby and I have a bedroom each, so I don’t have to move everything out every week.
I still have most of my stuff here and just take a few things to the hotel that I know I’ll need.
Gabby keeps telling me to get an apartment, but it doesn’t feel right.
I want my home to be wherever Willow is.
The time away from her, I spend it working, so I can focus on my daughter when I’m with her.
Willow pulls up the handle on my suitcase and heads out. I follow her with my garment bag.
Gabby’s waiting at the bottom of the stairs. Willow abandons my suitcase when she sees her mom and squeals. It’s the exact sound she uses when she sees me.
I’m okay with that.
As separated couples go, Gabby and I are as good as it gets. Maybe it’s because we were never married, but we don’t hate each other. Our daughter isn’t some pawn in a game of psychological warfare. She’s happy. And it’s nice that she’s excited to see us both.
“Good to see you, Gabby. I’ll call tonight as usual.” Whoever isn’t with Willow gets a daily phone call with her just after dinner.
“Actually, do you have a moment?”
I pause and check my watch. It’s 7:59 a.m. I should be leaving. I always pay for Saturday night at Hotel on Ninth Street so I can get there early on a Sunday morning. That’s where I should be headed right now. I have a day of spreadsheets ahead of me.
“Of course,” I say, but what I’m thinking is, What does she want? Maybe she wants to alternate Saturday nights with me again. We did that for a while in the beginning. It worked. But I prefer it how it is now. I like waking up with Willow on two days where we don’t have to get ready for school.
“Sweetheart,” Gabby says, addressing Willow. “Can you go upstairs and set up a tea party and I’ll be up there as soon as I’ve said goodbye to your dad.”
“But I want to say goodbye too,” she says. Her arms reach up to me, and I lift her up again, giving her a big hug.
“I love you,” I say. “I’ll speak to you tonight.”
She slides out of my arms, and without a backward look, she runs upstairs to her imaginary tea party.
“What’s going on?” I ask Gabby.
“I have some news,” she says, a slight blush creeping over her cheeks. “I wanted to tell you before I tell Willow.”
I frown, willing her to get on with it. My imagination is nearly as good as my six-year-old’s. I’m half expecting her to say she’s moving to Chile and wants to take Willow with her.
Over my dead body.
“You know I’ve been dating Ray a while now,” she says. “Well, he’s asked me to marry him.”
I physically take a step back. “Oh, right.” I smile awkwardly and try to find an appropriate response. But nothing feels appropriate because I know I’m supposed to be pleased for her. But all I can do is listen to the warning that sounds in my ears.
Gabby started dating Ray almost as soon as we split up. We’d agreed to keep each other informed if we had serious relationships, and not to introduce anyone to Willow without telling the other first.
When Gabby had told me she wanted Ray to meet Willow, I’d insisted on meeting him first. I was ready to hate him.
But I didn’t. It helped that every background check that I’d had carried out on him came through clear. I knew this guy’s inside leg measurement along with his credit score. He owns a restaurant on the Upper East Side that’s been in his family for fifty years. He’s a good guy.
Gabby and I agreed that Ray wouldn’t sleep over, and she’s always stuck by that agreement.
“I’m not sure what I’m supposed to say in these situations,” I say.
“You don’t need to say anything. I just wanted you to hear it from me. We’re going to tell Willow at lunch today. Ray’s coming over in a couple of hours.”
They’re going to tell her today? Shouldn’t I be there?
I don’t know how Willow will handle this.
I’ve been delivered bad news as a kid. I know what it feels like.
The conversation where you’re told isn’t the worst bit.
It’s the hours, days, weeks, months after.
It’s knowing life will never be the same again.
“Well, let me know if Willow is…if you need me to come back. You know I’m always around the corner.”
“You’re still not thinking about a place of your own?”
“Let me know how it goes, will you?” I ask her. “I want to know how Willow takes it.” My life has been lived in two parts—the time my older sister Penny was alive and then after she died. I don’t want Willow to have to divide her memories up like that. It changes you.
“Willow loves Ray.”
The idea that my daughter could love a man who wasn’t me bristles at my collar. “It’s a change. A disruption. You don’t know how she’ll take it.”
Gabby sighs. “I’ll send you a text.”
I nod. “Congratulations. I want you to be happy, Gabby.”
“I know. I want you to be happy too.”
“I am happy,” I say, and I head to the front door. I have everything I could ever need. Everything works.
“If you say so,” she says. “Speak to you later.”
I step out into the heat of early June in New York, yet a shiver passes down my spine.
Gabby’s engaged.
Will she want Ray to stay over?
I pull in a breath and try not to think about how their engagement might change things. It won’t. It can’t. Our arrangement works for everyone. Why would she want to disrupt that? She wouldn’t. She’s a good mother. She knows our nesting arrangement works for Willow.
It works for me.
I don’t want any changes.