Next Door Daddy

by Ford, Mia

  “I’d have to find someone to mind Alicia on the night, and that would be a nightmare,” I say. “My parents are overseas right now, so I can’t even ask for them.”

  “Well, what’s something that she likes?” Jason asks.

  “Well…” I grimace. “She likes gardening and painting.”

  “Get her some art supplies, then,” Jason suggests.

  “I wouldn’t have an idea what to get,” I tell him. “I’m a designer, not a painter.”

  “What about seeds?” Jason asks.

  “Too informal,” I dismiss.

  Jason frowns at me. “You asked me for my help. The least you can do is not stomp on everything I’m trying to suggest.”

  “It just doesn’t feel right,” I sigh. “Alicia suggested that I get Zoe a cat this morning, which is what made me think about this, but I can’t do that. Zoe hasn’t gotten herself a cat for a reason, especially since I’m paying her quite a bit.”

  “Yeah?” Jason asks curiously.

  “She’s at my house from eight thirty in the morning until almost nine at night, six days a week,” I inform him. “She deserves what I’m giving her.” I shake my head. “Anyway, the fact is, she can more than afford to buy a cat and everything it needs, but she hasn’t. So I’m not going to buy her one until she’s made up her own mind about it.”

  “Fair enough,” Jason shrugs.

  I groan and run my hand over my face. “Why is this so difficult?”

  “Probably because you’re overthinking it,” Jason tells me. “You’re trying to think of the perfect gift, but that isn’t going to work. Just get her something nice; she’ll appreciate it, no matter what it is, just because you gave it to her.”

  I think about this and sigh. It’s a nice idea, but it feels like an evasion. I want to give Zoe something that shows her how well I’ve gotten to know her. Something special, something that a close friend could give her.

  “Have you tried asking anyone else?” Jason suggests. “Like her family and friends?”

  “Her family all lives in Minnesota,” I say, shrugging. “She has a friend named Katherine, but I’ve never met her.”

  “So, you’re pretty much on your own on this one,” Jason says. “That sucks.”

  “It does,” I agree. “Anyway, if I can figure it out, I can stop wasting my time thinking about it, and I can focus on work again.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Jason scoffs. “There’s nothing much to do right now, anyway.”

  I eye the stack of paperwork on my desk. Everything there needs to be reviewed and maybe signed. Jason follows my line of sight and smiles sheepishly.

  “I’m sure you can get it done quickly,” he says. “Look, we can ask Sarah; she’s pretty quirky and she loves romances.”

  “Which is exactly why I’m not telling her,” I say, rolling my eyes at the thought of speaking to the receptionist about this. “You’re a gossip, but you know when to keep secrets. Sarah’s almost as big a gossip as you, and she never keeps secrets.”

  “Who told you that?” Jason asks, confused.

  I gave him a deadpan look. “You did.”

  Jason snort. “Right, I forgot. Well, in that case, I’m stuck, sorry. I have no idea what to do. All I can suggest is that you think of something that might be special to Zoe and try and go with that.”

  “Right,” I sigh. “Thank you for trying to help, anyway. I’ll have to think about it later. We’re going to be overrun with paperwork, soon, if I don’t get a move on.”

  “Yeah, that wouldn’t be fun,” Jason winces. “Alright, well, good luck thinking of something, anyway. Maybe you’ll get lucky and stumble on an idea?” Suddenly, he grins. “Though maybe you should just give her a couple of days off. I’m sure she’s getting tired of seeing you six days a week.”

  “A holiday isn’t a bad idea,” I say, ignoring the jibe. “I wonder if she has a passport.” I shrug. “I’ll think about it later, but that’s a winner so far, Jason.”

  “Looks like I helped after all,” Jason laughs.

  I watch him leave the office with a smile and chuckle. Even though Jason teases me and drives me crazy, I really am glad to be working with him.

  Now, back to work. I can think of the very real issue of finding a gift for Zoe later.

  * * *

  When I get home, I’m no closer to solving my dilemma. I resolve, at some point, to find out if Zoe has a passport, but the whole holiday idea isn’t looking so great anymore. As selfish as it is, I won’t have anyone to watch Alicia if Zoe goes away.

  I’m early again, today, and Zoe gratefully takes the early dismissal that I give her; she’s half covered in flour from the baking project she and Alicia apparently did today, and the rest of her is covered in suds and bath water from cleaning Alicia up.

  Alicia cheerfully waves her off and then bounds over to me.

  “Can we read a story?” she asks.

  “Soon, sweetheart,” I promise. “Can I eat dinner first? I’m also thinking about a few things.”

  “Like what?” Alicia asks curiously.

  I blink at her. It might seem ridiculous to consider asking my five-year-old for advice, but Alicia has spent a lot more time with Zoe than I have.

  “I’m trying to think of a present to give Zoe, since she’s been so great,” I admit. “Can you think of anything?”

  I’m not expecting the way Alicia’s expression lights up all of a sudden.

  “Yes!” she says, almost falling off her chair in excitement. “I know!”

  “What?” I ask, interested in what she is going to say. It must be something she’s thought of before for it enter her mind so quick.

  Then I almost fall off my chair in shock when she voices her thoughts.

  “We can make Zoe my new mommy!” Alicia says eagerly. “That’s a good present.”

  I stare at Alicia. Her words aren’t processing properly.

  “Your…” I stumble.

  “New mommy,” Alicia finishes brightly.

  My mouth opens and closes, but no reply comes out.

  What?

  Chapter Twenty

  Seth

  I don’t know why Alicia’s innocent request has such a large effect on me, but I find it difficult to meet Zoe’s eyes the next morning when I open the door for her. She smiles brightly, and I stare at her as though I’ve never seen her before.

  “We can make Zoe my new mommy!”

  No matter what I do, I can’t seem to get those words out of my head. I remember choking and then managing to ramble on about some half-hearted excuse, and then I hurried Alicia to bed, not wanting to face it anymore. Mercifully, my daughter dropped it, but the idea continued to run around and around my head, until I was almost dizzy with it.

  Zoe as Alicia’s mother? My first impulse should be to scoff and say that it’s impossible. Zoe and I slept together once. That doesn’t mean I’m going to marry her and make her the mother of my child.

  Then I remember watching Zoe and Alicia together. Once, some time ago, it had occurred to me that Zoe treats Alicia like she would one of her younger siblings. Now, knowing that the teenage Zoe had acted in a parental capacity for her own siblings, I realize that she does already act like Alicia’s mother.

  She scolds Alicia when she’s in the wrong, treats her when she’s done well, teaches her valuable life lessons and educates her in my place. In return, Alicia has calmed significantly, losing a lot of her childish anger, to the point where I can genuinely see a future where my daughter is able to attend school with her peers.

  So, it shouldn’t be surprising that Alicia sees Zoe as a pseudo-mother. Zoe has been filling that role admirably, even if she doesn’t realize it.

  But Zoe is also just the nanny. She isn’t Alicia’s mother. She and I aren’t even together, and nor will we ever be.

  So why is it so difficult to get the idea out of my head?

  “Good morning, Seth,” Zoe says warmly.

  “Good morning,” I s
ay, stepping back to let her inside.

  “Alicia’s in the kitchen?” Zoe guesses.

  “Like always,” I say with a smile. “Though I’m not sure how much she’s eating; I made the mistake of buying the dinosaur-shaped cereal, and there was an epic battle between the colors starting when I left the room.”

  Zoe laughs. “Looks like cleaning up will be first on the agenda today.”

  “Sorry,” I offer.

  “It’s fine,” Zoe grins. “All part of the job, right?”

  Her eyes dance in fond amusement as she looks toward the kitchen. I eye her expression, and Alicia’s words echo in my mind once more.

  “We can make Zoe my new mommy!”

  My mind, I note sourly, has been causing me a lot of problems lately.

  “Better go see what the damage is,” Zoe says with a laugh, making her way toward the kitchen.

  I trail after her; part of me just wants to leave and clear my head, but I left my briefcase on the dining table. I also want to make sure Alicia isn’t causing too much of a mess; it would be really unfair to leave that with Zoe to deal with.

  Thankfully, the mess is small. Alicia gives us both a toothy smile as she drops her spoon in the bowl; a few splashes of milk on the table around her. All the cereal is gone; she must have decided that eating it was better than battling with it.

  “Zoe!” she says, beaming, and I feel a brief sense of foreboding. “Can you be my new mommy?”

  The world freezes. Zoe blinks, stupefied by the question, and I just stare, barely able to believe my ears. It seems that Alicia didn’t just forget about it, after all, nor did she listen to me when I tried, apparently futilely, to explain why calling Zoe “mommy” wasn’t a good idea.

  “What?” Zoe asks, almost as though she can’t believe her ears.

  I don’t know whether I should laugh, try to explain, or escape before the situation becomes even more awkward. Instead, my feet are glued to the spot as I try to figure out how to stop this train wreck.

  “You’re a good mommy!” Alicia says happily. Then she turns to me. “Don’t you think so, daddy?”

  Zoe turns to look at me too, utterly bewildered by these turn of events. I manage to give her a smile.

  “Kids, right?” I say.

  “…Right,” Zoe says, shaking her head.

  Did she look a little disappointed at my answer? Was she hoping I would say something else? Or is that just my imagination?

  “Anyway, I need to go to work,” I say, my voice just a little too loud. “Have a good day!”

  Then I flee. I’m not proud of it, but there’s no way I can keep my composure any longer, especially with the way Zoe is looking at me. I almost run down the path and rush into the car.

  Matt raises an eyebrow at me over his shoulder.

  “All right, sir?” he asks hesitantly.

  I draw in a deep breath and give him a small smile.

  “Let’s just say that kids can be very embarrassing at times,” I declare.

  Matt snickers. “What has Alicia done this time? I’m surprised you’ve managed to prevent her from embarrassing you in front of Zoe before now.”

  “Alicia getting more comfortable in front of Zoe is both a good thing and a bad thing, it seems,” I agree grouchily. I sigh as Matt starts the car up and pulls away from the curb. “She asked Zoe to be her new mother.”

  Matt is silent for a long moment. And then he bursts out laughing. I glare at the back of his head. I already have Jason giving me grief about Zoe at work, I don’t need Matt to start doing it.

  Thankfully, however, my driver seems to have more self-preservation than Jason, because he calms himself and then clears his throat.

  “Where to, sir?” he asks formally, though I can see, in the mirror, a smirk curling at the corners of his mouth.

  I open my mouth to reply that I’d like him to take me to the office. Then I pause. Actually, if I’m honest, I don’t want him to do that. I’m not interested in being cooped up in my office all day, especially when my embarrassment is likely showing all over my face.

  “Can you take me to the shopping center?” I ask. “We’ve just opened a store there, and I’d like to see how the sales are doing.”

  “Right away, sir,” Matt says.

  Maybe doing something productive will get this all out of my mind. Though, somehow, since I haven’t been able to get Zoe out of my mind for weeks, I doubt it.

  * * *

  As soon as I appear in the store, the staff almost fall over themselves, shocked and terrified to see me. It’s more gratifying than it should be; I enjoy the fact that Zoe treats me like a normal person, but I need to get my thoughts as far away from her as possible.

  “May I speak with your manager?” I ask politely.

  “Yes!” squeaks the young clerk, her badge reading “Melissa”. “I’ll just get her.”

  She rushes off, disappearing through a back door. Barely seconds later, a tall woman with her hair in a neat bun, smoothing down her skirt, appears, looking flustered.

  “Mr. Gray!” she exclaims, holding out a hand for me to shake. “My name is Elizabeth Wilson. We didn’t expect to see you today.”

  “I was in the area and I thought I’d drop in,” I say. “That’s not a problem?”

  “Not at all!” she says instantly. “What can I do for you?”

  “I was hoping to get the store records,” I say. “The profit statements, in particular, as well as the survey sheets that I asked you to hand out to the customers. This new, casual line is important to me, after all.”

  “If you give me a few minutes, I’ll just get them for you,” Elizabeth says with a nod.

  “I’ll wait here,” I offer.

  “Thank you.”

  She disappears out the back again. I smile and look around. The store is designed quite nicely, and there are a handful of customers milling around. Then I look at Melissa. She’s standing behind the desk again, looking starstruck.

  I cough once. This is slightly awkward. I wrack my brains for something to say.

  At that moment, to my relief, my phone rings, and I turn it in my pocket so that I can see the name on the screen. I smile when I see who it is.

  “Excuse me,” I say to Melissa. “I need to take this call.”

  “Of course,” she says. “I need to see to these customers, anyway.”

  I smile at her and step away, picking up the call before it can ring out.

  “Hello,” I say warmly.

  “Seth,” comes the voice of Joseph Gray, my father. “How are you, son?”

  “I’m a bit busy,” I admit. “And Alicia was a handful this morning. How have you been?”

  “Your mother and I have just returned to the country,” my father says with a laugh. “I almost wish we had just stayed in Italy!”

  “Then where would I be without you guys to help me out?” I ask teasingly.

  Joseph and Allison Gray are my parents. I was not born into money, as many people speculate, but we were very well-off, regardless. Growing up, we had enough money that I was able to see several different countries by the time I was a young adult, which was what initially filled my head with ideas of grandeur.

  These days, my parents, both retired, love to country-hop on various tours. I help support this lifestyle, both because I’m glad to see them enjoying themselves as they get older, and because I don’t like how twitchy they get when forced to stay for too long in one place.

  I’m grateful that my parents are in my life. They babysit Alicia a lot for me, and the only reason I hadn’t asked them to have Alicia during the week for me is because I know I’d return home one day to find that they’d whisked her away to France for some “cultural appreciation”.

  “Anyway, what’s going on?” I ask, keeping an eye on the staff door as I wait for Elizabeth to return.

  My father sighs down the line.

  “I thought I’d just call and see what the weekend’s plans are,” my father says, his voice he
avy.

  I frown. “Plans? What for?”

  There’s a stunned silence on the other end.

  “Son…you haven’t looked at the date lately?” my father asks carefully.

  “What does the date have to do with anything?” I ask irritably, opening my planner anyway and flicking it to today’s date. “It’s the 6th of June. So what?”

  My father doesn’t say anything. Then, several seconds later, comprehension hits me. It’s the 6th of June. This weekend…is the anniversary of Rose’s death.

  For four years, I have visited Rose’s grave on the anniversary of her death. Last year, for the first time, I took Alicia, though she was too young to really understand. Every year my parents have dinner with us, though the place varies; the first year we went to a restaurant, another year we had dinner at my place…

  More than that, though, is that I normally find some way to remember Rose. It started that first year, when I bought some rose seeds and planted them in the garden among the flowers Rose had loved, caring for them carefully until they bloomed. After that, I always found something to do, something that makes me feel like Rose is still with me. I usually plan this weeks in advance.

  Yet, this year…

  This year, I haven’t thought about it at all. I forgot, even, that the anniversary was coming up so quickly on us. I have no memento, no plans to even visit her grave. I haven’t even looked at where it was marked on the calendar, even though I normally spend the month leading up to it checking the date obsessively.

  What has changed about this year?

  I know the answer almost immediately. Normally, at this time of year, my thoughts will be full of Rose. But my mind has been full of someone else, this year.

  Zoe.

  “I…have to go,” I choke, and I hang up before my father can protest.

  I stare down at the phone grasped in my hand. I don’t know what to think or feel. I’m oddly numb, as though I’m suddenly out of place in the world that’s rushing around me.