by Laura Burton
Nora nods enthusiastically.
“Well, that sounds fun. If you were heading home, I’d give you a ride. We are neighbors, after all.”
“Oh yeah,” she blurts behind a giggle as if she’s just realized I live so close to her. “I love your house. It’s so small and pretty like in the movies. Can I come over sometime?”
Her question catches me off-guard, especially since her house is basically the behemoth contemporary modern giant of our neighborhood. “Sure. Anytime.”
“Your dog is so so cute. What’s his name again?”
She asks me at least once a month even though she loves to approach my French bulldog while we’re out on our evening walks. “Her name’s Pepper.”
“Ooooh, I remember. Pepper! Like the food. She looks like a cute gray bunny sometimes. I want a dog like her. If I had one, I could walk her all the time, too.”
“You could,” I laugh.
Her expression shifting downward, she shrugs. “I wish Pop Pop had a dog. But he doesn’t like to play. He’s nice, but he’s not very fun,” she says, furrowing her dark brow.
“Really? Why not?”
“He’s too slow for me. He can’t ever catch me when we play tag.”
“Holy moly,” I sigh. I know Jerry and Parker are occasionally at odds depending on which way the wind blows, but now I just feel sad for him if that’s what his own granddaughter sees in him. Looking over at Nora, I want to help her understand in a way that doesn’t vilify her grandad. “You know, Nora, sometimes as people grow older, they get to where they can’t move around as quick. But that doesn’t make them any less fun, does it? They just get a case of the creaky bones.”
“Creaky bones?” she asks, her jaw going slack. “What’s that?”
“It’s where your bones don’t work quite as well as they used to. You wanna hear a secret?”
She nods, entranced by the promise of a mystery as she studies my every move.
“I have a creaky ankle sometimes.” I hold my leg out and roll my ankle around to see if it’ll make a noise for her, and as if I’ve performed magic, Nora squeals when she hears the tiny crack. “See?”
“Yeah! How’d it do that?” she squeals.
I shrug and leave her imagination to the magic of the human body.
“Oh, actually sometimes my arm goes creaky!”
“Really?” I ask, my eyes growing wide at her sudden admission. “Let me hear it.”
“Daddy usually keeps my oil.”
“Keeps your oil?” I rack my brain for what in the world that could mean.
Launching herself off of the stone wall, the girl stands as still as she can in her rainbow-printed leggings and a tank top the color of charcoal. Sticking her arm out at a right angle, she immediately reverts back to her time as a robot in the earlier dance circle. With unmovable features, she makes a tiny, incessant squeaking noise with her mouth as if she’s head-to-toe made of rusted tin like the Tin Man himself.
“Oh, no! That’s a really creaky arm, Nora.”
“I know,” she mutters, not moving an inch, frozen in her Tin Man pose.
“Wow. Is your entire body stuck like that?” I ask, standing in front of her now to inspect just how cemented she is— my obviously desperate attempt at playing along.
“Yes,” she squeaks. “Help me. Oil.”
“Oh, boy,” I sigh under my breath.
Suddenly, I hear a car pull up behind me. Turning, I find a silver Lexus idling in front of the sidewalk with its blinker on.
The overworked Father of the Hour, Parker Shaw. Finally.
As if he’s not a second late, he rolls the window down and cocks an eyebrow at our current state of being— his daughter frozen like a statue, me investigating her.
“Hey,” I shout, stifling a nervous laugh.
Parker lifts his hand and pulls his sunglasses from his face. “What’d I miss?”
Turning back to Nora, I watch as she answers him.
“Oil,” she cries as best she can without moving her mouth. “Help me.”
“What? Come on, Nora. We’re gonna be late.”
“Daddy, please,” she sings, breaking character long enough to spit the words so he knows she means business. “Oil.”
“I think she’s stuck like this,” I say to Parker, pointing at her as she tries her best to keep from blinking and laughing. “Did you leave the oil at home?” I tease.
“I might have,” Parker says with knowing eyes and a shake of his head. He throws the car into park and hops out, clearly a little agitated by the momentary hold-up but also realizing there’s no way he’s getting his daughter in the car without following through on her antics.
Kids.
As he meets us over on the paver stones, I can’t help but feel a little melancholy for him. He’s been a single dad to Nora for as long as I’ve known him in my group of friends. But for everything I’ve witnessed Nora putting him through, not once has he come unhinged. Not even a little. And that’s true dad talent.
Parker smiles at me, his usual thousand-watt grin, as he meets us. He’s wearing a white button-down shirt with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His hair is the rich brown color of chestnut under the shade of the nearby oak tree as he confronts Nora. “Alright,” he playfully groans. “Where do you need the oil?”
“Arms,” she blurts through gritted teeth, staving off another laugh.
“Here we go,” he says, glancing back at me, clearly embarrassed to be doing this in front of me as he pretends to douse Nora in oil from an imaginary can he holds.
“No, you have to make the sound,” Nora whispers harshly.
“Oh, okay. I forgot to make the sound,” he tells me with a chuckle as if I hadn’t just heard her. “Glug, glug,” he says, tapping his shoe against the stone, impatiently patient as ever.
I fight my own enjoyment as I watch him playfully feeding Nora’s joints oil to where she can walk again which takes all of about twenty seconds. Probably not even worth the time of him hopping out of the car, though he does follow through with the glug-glug-glugging sound, and I can’t help but find that incredibly endearing.
“You have to oil her, too, Daddy. She’s stuck. See?”
Her comment throws an ominous emotion to the back of my throat as Parker turns to me. His eyes flicker with something deep-toned this evening. It’s a look I occasionally see in him but still haven’t grown used to yet, even after all this time. “You’re stuck, too?”
My lips part, unsure of what to say until I nod, secreting a smile. “Seems so,” I say through a stuck mouth, stealing Nora’s bit from a few minutes ago.
“Well, looks like we’ll have to change that.” When he walks up to me, I’m surprised by the gravity of his stare, his eyes tunneling into me, seeing something more than for which this moment calls. His lips upturn into a gentle smirk causing heat to rush my cheeks as he quietly glug-glugs me to sweet unstuckness.
“Freedom at last,” I whisper, trying my hardest not to blush any more than I already have. “Thanks for that.”
“Are we going to Pop Pop’s, Daddy?” Now released from her case of creaky bones, Nora squats to grab her yoga bag. “Cuz I’m thirsty.”
“Well, I’m Friday. And yes. We’ll see what he’s up to. I’ve got dinner in the back.”
Nora’s eyes light up like cherry bombs. “Spaghetti?”
“Spaghetti for you, yes. Now thank Hadley for the yoga event— class,” he says, flitting a hand in my direction, clearly unsure of what to call it.
“Thank you,” Nora says, blinking at me under dark, thick eyelashes that match her dad’s. “Can you come to dinner with us?”
Her question startles me, and when I steal a glance up at Parker, he smiles and runs a hand down his face. Having become even closer friends with him over the past few months after our failed attempt at dating, I can tell he’s abashed again— this time at her inquiry. I brush a few flyaway strands of hair from my cheek and politely shake my head. “I appreciate the
invite, but I should get home to feed Pepper. She’s probably pretty hungry herself.”
Nora’s face brightens at the mention of my sweet pup again. “Oooh, can you give her a kiss for me?”
“I will do that,” I say, pointing at her. “Now you better run along before those bones of your seize up again,” I say, shooing her so Parker can get a move on like he’s desperate to do.
“Thank you,” he says, mouthing the words to me silently.
I nod and shoot him a thumbs-up as Nora turns away.
“Bye, Hadley. I love your dog and your house. She said I could come over, Daddy.” Sticking her tongue out at him as they head back to the car, she scoots along like an excited puppy herself.
Fighting a laugh, I wave. “Bye, Nora. See you soon!”
Parker opens the back door to his SUV and helps Nora into her booster seat. Shutting the door behind her, he turns back to me as I grab my bag and sneakers just before meeting him on the sidewalk. “Thank you for hanging out with her.”
“Not a problem. But Parker?”
“Yeah.” He cocks an eyebrow, this time a look of resignation haunting his cast.
For a second, I consider suggesting he be more mindful of his time when it comes to his daughter, but something stops me. Before I can figure out what to say, he laughs, pulling me from my thoughts.
“I know, I know,” he says with a shake of his head as if he’s reading my mind. “I’m an awful father. That’s what I have this thing for,” he says, flashing me his wristwatch that probably cost an atrocious amount of money. “Must need to replace the batteries. I won’t be late again.”
“Promise?”
“Promise,” he nods, throwing me the Scout’s honor sign with his fingers in jest. Pausing a little longer, he reaches up to ruffle his bangs like he wants to disappear under them. “But seriously, thank you for waiting with her.”
Fighting a grin, I nod. “You’re welcome. And for what it’s worth, Parker?” I say, hoisting my bag up further over my shoulder and holding my shoes tighter so I don’t drop them. “You’re a great father.”
Pausing in a moment of solemnity, he shoves his hands into his pockets and nods. “I appreciate that, Hadley. Appreciate you, too,” he smirks, playfully pointing at me, as joking as we’ve always been with one another. His smile is genuine and leaves a lingering and flustered feeling of raw gratitude that squeezes me on the inside as I watch him drive away into the oncoming evening.
Parker
“Daddy, can you play Raffi?”
My cell phone suddenly rings through the car stereo. Glancing down, I see it’s Susan and immediately send her call through to voicemail. Nora doesn’t know I’ve been seeing anyone, even casually like this, and there’s no way I’m having that conversation tonight.
Fighting a persistent yawn, I glance at my daughter in the rearview mirror. She’s twirling her dark hair around her fingers like she’s five-years-old going on thirteen while sipping from a grape-flavored juice pouch I’d brought her straight from my downtown office.
It’s been a long day, even for a Monday. But with the utter annoyance of failing at yet another sector launch of the candy business, the weight of my guilt is nearly crippling under the pressure I face at Lolli & Pop’s on a daily basis.
Candy was never my schtick— I don’t particularly like the taste of it, I hate that the only thing it gives you is cavities and an aching tummy, and it doesn’t help that my daughter is obsessed with any and all of it. Regardless, my dad had put me in charge of the family company two years ago as his only child. I’m not particularly good at running the company. In fact, it seems the only thing I’m good at is running it into the ground. No matter what ideas I approve of via my Product Development teams, we can’t seem to win. It all falls back onto me.
“Daddy, can you play “Water Dance” for us?”
Nora’s innocent question pulls me from my overwhelming thoughts. Her favorite song. Coincidentally, it’s the only song that ever seems to calm her. “Sure, sweetheart.”
I punch the knob with a knuckle to transition to her Baby Beluga CD by Raffi that’s already in the stereo. It’s the CD she asks for nearly any time she wants some driving tunes, so I queue it up, and it’s not long before she’s singing along to “Biscuits in the Oven” and “Joshua Giraffe” in the backseat.
Driving us down Main Street, I get lost in my thoughts until I hear Nora’s small voice rise above the music. “Daddy, do you like Hadley?”
Looking up at her in the mirror again as we head toward West Shoal to see my father, I nod. At least once a day, she’ll ask if I like this person or that. Mr. Jameson from down the street, Landon who’s been dating my good friend Henry, and Twila who’s one of Nora’s favorite clerks at the grocery store. Even Raffi who we listen to what feels like almost every single day. “I do like Hadley. She’s very nice. What about you? Is she a good teacher for you and your friends?”
“No,” she groans.
Reading her frustrated appearance in the mirror, I furrow my brow.
“I mean do you like her more than a teacher?”
Nora’s inquiry stirs my soul as I’m not exactly sure what she’s insinuating. Not once did we mention we’d been dating for those two months at the beginning of the year, so there’s no way a concept like this could be on her mind. “More?” I ask, taking a right onto Mulberry.
“Yeah. Do you like her more?”
Hadley and I met through our mutual group of friends. And even though it’s only summer, our quick fuse of a romance now seems like a lifetime ago. While nothing particularly poetic came of our time together, we’d grown into much closer friends than actual lovers. Despite it, she still holds a bright, shining moon of a spot in my heart, but our minds were elsewhere at the time. She was focused on getting her yoga studio up and running, and I was struggling to keep certain aspects of Pop’s business afloat. I’ve also been preoccupied with raising Nora. But if those two points were the only hold-up with my love life with Hadley, I wouldn’t be casually dating right now— anyone, namely Susan. “Well, yeah. Sure I do, Nora. I like Hadley just fine.”
Blinking at me with those dark chocolate eyes in the mirror like she does when she’s curiously insistent, she licks her lips. “I was thinking of something. Can you ask her if she’ll be my mommy?”
Gripping the steering wheel tight, I pull my eyes back to the gravel road in front of me. My ex-wife had left us the better part of four years ago. One Sunday, she told me she’d fallen out of love with me, out of love with our family, packed three suitcases, and left at midnight. Nora was almost two at the time. For as much as I remind Nora that her mom still loves her, she’s chosen not to be in her life, and I take absolute offense to that. But I’d never let Nora know all that at this age, if ever. Without a doubt, it would crush her. “Well, sweetheart, Hadley’s not a mom right now.”
“Oh.” I feel her shoes press into the back of my seat like she does when she’s trying to preoccupy herself. “Can you ask her though? She might like being one of mine.”
“Well.” The thought settles low in my gut as I consider why Nora is craving a mother figure that bad so suddenly. I’m obviously not enough. What is it she’s craving that I’m not able to provide? “What made you say all this just now?” I ask, trying to get a feel for how her mind is currently churning.
A grin splits her tiny lips. “She’s a lot of fun. And plus she has a cute dog and a pretty house. I wish I could walk the baby and be friends with her. She said I could come over to her house sometimes. Can she come play on the trampoline with me?”
Glad that the narrative has shifted in a much more positive light, I nod with a grin. “Sure she can. Whenever she wants. And I bet she’d love to let you play with her dog on the—”
“Pepper!” Nora squeals.
“Excuse me?” I laugh, surprised at her sudden animation.
“Her dog’s name is Pepper. You have to use that on her and nothing else.”
“Oh, okay
. Well, I’m sure Pepper would love to play, too.” Before I can figure out all the details of what brought this up, I park the car in dad’s driveway, grab our Lockhart’s dinner from the backseat, and follow behind Nora who’s gracefully skipping on the cement walkup, adamant about not touching the grass in her new light-up sneakers.
“Give Pop Pop a hug,” I say as we enter the back door of his house. We make it over here weekly for Dad to see his granddaughter and to catch up on business. But ever since I’d squandered the gourmet caramel launch I’d envisioned for six whole months before making the moves to put it into play, Dad has been giving me trial for it. And rightly so.
“Hello, my little princess,” Pop Pop says from the dining room table. He pats the wooden tabletop and opens his frail arms to capture Nora as she happily embraces him with all the fervor of a kid who knows she’s the center of his entire world.
“Hi, Pop Pop. Guess what I did today!”
“What’d you do?” he growls. The sound of his scratchy voice making my heart ache, I watch the two of them and catch myself wondering how much more of Nora’s childhood he’ll be around to witness.
“The Oak Tree Pose,” she says, her grin causing him to spark with curiosity.
“What’s that? Show me.”
She climbs out of his arms and stands on the slanted linoleum of the kitchen. “See?” Balancing on one foot, she touches her other foot to the side of her calf, wiggling in place as she tries to stay still. Placing her hands over her heart, she smiles, and I swear this girl could pass as a fifteen-year-old when she performs different yoga moves like this. “Hadley taught me,” she says, waggling her eyebrows at me as she falls back into her normal stance. “Can I go play on the iPad?”
