Single Dad's Nightmare (Finding Single Dads Book 1)

by Sam Destiny

  “I know, Daddy. Clare sounds different, and she sings much better than Mom, but still…” She shrugged, then nudged her foot against my hand. “We’re late.”

  I nearly rolled my eyes because that was exactly what I’d said about ten times since we’d gotten up.

  After I finished tying her shoes, we walked out of the house. Sally ran ahead while I locked the doors, pausing when my daughter called out in excitement.

  “Hey, Clare! And Lacrosse! Aw, my baby!”

  I was about to turn, wanting to see Clare, needing to see her reaction to me, but I already knew what that would be when she spoke.

  “Hey, baby. Sorry, but we need to hurry. Lacrosse has a doctor’s appointment and I still need to grab her papers. I’ll see you around, okay?”

  I lifted my eyes to the woman next door. She looked paler, skinnier, her hair up in a messy bun. I knew she wasn’t going anywhere because she wore sweatpants and a loose shirt, the attire she usually only sported when walking the dog.

  I watched how she bent and kissed the top of Sally’s head, not even glancing at me.

  It stung, yet I knew I could only blame myself. Had I gone back Sunday, she might have listened, but now her walls were up high, higher than I’d ever be able to climb, and it made my heart crack.

  Jesus, I needed to call my mom, get her opinion, then I needed to figure out what I’d say to Clare to make things better.

  Shaking out of my thoughts, I walked to my car, strapped my daughter in, then drove to daycare. I walked in, signed her in while filling the paperwork out and dropped her off, then climbed back into my car and took out my phone.

  Work had called twice already, but they could wait.

  “Mom?”

  “Dale? So good of you to call. How are things? Shouldn’t you be at work?” She sounded cheery. I heard pots clinking in the background, proving she was already cooking, although it was still early.

  Whenever she was home, not busy babysitting me and my daughter, she usually had friends over. Sometimes I thought she feared she’d die if she tried slowing down.

  “Remember how you said I’d only make a mess if I used a woman just for sex?”

  She sighed, drawing the sound out. I knew she was seriously annoyed with me. “How big is it?”

  I blinked. “How big is what?”

  “Your mess,” she replied, exasperated.

  “You know I slept with Clare. You’re my mother. You always know…things.” I’d almost said “shit”, but figured cursing wouldn’t soften her in my favor. “You mentioned it, too. Anyway, she fell for me, and you were right. I wanted more from her, too. I just… When she told me I couldn’t leave again, couldn’t slip out of her bed or she’d never give me another chance, I panicked. I mean, I woke up next to her and realized I loved her. Mom, I don’t even know how that happened. I didn’t want to leave, I truly didn’t, but too many things suddenly played over in my mind. I know nothing about her. I have no idea what her favorite color is, if there’s food she’s allergic to.” I debated mentioning that I’d also gotten her pregnant and may have made it sound as if I didn’t want the child, but my mother would kill me for that.

  Twice.

  “And you walked out, I assume?”

  “Only because I had an appointment. I wanted to go back and explain things, but—”

  “You made excuse after excuse, although it could’ve been an easy fix. Now it’s not. Now it’s her locking you out.”

  I almost laughed at that because Clare never locked her doors, but I also knew my mother didn’t mean that literally. “I just… I don’t know. I’m terrified. What if we’re the worst match ever?”

  She stayed silent for a moment, then cleared her throat. “What if you’re the best match ever?”

  I hesitated, then put the car back in drive. “I gotta go, Mom. Thank you.” I hung up, not waiting for her to tell me she loved me. I knew that better than most sons did. I quickly drove home, blowing out a relieved breath when I saw Clare’s car still in the driveway.

  I walked up to her house, opened the screen door, grabbed the doorknob—and bumped right into the unyielding wood.

  The pain zapped across my forehead and straight into my heart because I knew the only reason Clare locked the door was to prevent me from coming in.

  For a moment, I considered knocking, but since I hadn’t yet figured out what to say, I figured I’d try to break down her defenses once I had a better plan in place.

  Besides, I needed to get to work. Clare’s anger wouldn’t go anywhere.

  In the back of my mind, I knew it was just another excuse, but I still walked away, even though I knew better.

  Hell, she’s stubborn, but so am I.

  CLARE

  I’d expected Dale to bang his fist against the door, demand entrance the way he always demanded everything, but he hadn’t.

  Instead, he’d walked away and hadn’t come back. I’d watched from the kitchen window as he got back into his truck, and that had been it that day. Part of me had been relieved, another part utterly disappointed.

  God, I was a mess, and because the sickness had come back, I’d opted to stay home and work from here, running to the bathroom every hour.

  During the week, I occupied myself so I wouldn’t miss seeing Sally in the garden, or long for just a glimpse of Dale, but I also learned that working from home also meant your house was cleaner than usual—causing me to be have nothing to do by Saturday afternoon.

  Lacrosse sat by the back door, ready to go and play in the yard, probably waiting for Sally, but I didn’t let her go out. There was a storm brewing. We had weather warnings all day, and there was a stiff wind outside.

  Saturdays were horrible enough when I wasn’t cooped up in the house, but even worse when I couldn’t leave. As long as the storm came during the day, I would be okay…I hoped.

  If there was something I absolutely hated, it was being alone during a thunderstorm. I didn’t know what had triggered the fear, and actually remembered running around outside as a child whenever it stormed, but lately, I just wanted to crawl into a corner and curl up the moment the first sound of thunder cracked.

  The foreboding clouds gathered outside, so I picked up Lacrosse to cuddle, walking into the kitchen. I’d make myself some tea to calm my nerves, then I’d get out all the candles in case the electricity went.

  I didn’t know what made me look out the window, but I saw honey-colored eyes staring at me from the house next door. I held his gaze for a moment, trying to figure out what he was thinking, if I saw regret on his face, then I shook my head and turned away. Looking at Dale was unlike anything I’d ever experienced.

  I didn’t know anything about him—we’d proven that time and time again—yet he evoked feelings in me I hadn’t ever felt in a relationship.

  There you were, thinking you knew all about love, then life taught you better. Frankly, I couldn’t decide if I wanted to embrace the lesson or pass on it.

  When the dark clouds hid the sun, I turned on the lights, wondering if reading would get my mind off everything. Then again, the silence would make the noise of the storm so much worse.

  Watching TV would probably scare me more because of the noises on the screen. I was jumpy enough when it stormed, panicking easily, so I needed something that would keep my mind occupied enough to not hear every damn sound.

  Placing my hand on my stomach, I paused a moment, reminding myself that my anxiousness would be bad for the baby. After the initial shock of being pregnant had worn off, I’d come to the conclusion that this was a blessing in disguise. I’d not planned it, and I was in no way ready to be a single parent, but I’d been ready for a baby for years.

  It hadn’t happened the way I wanted, but I knew I was ready to do my very best. Being calm was a big part of that. I knew it was something I still had to work on.

  “We’ll be okay, peanut.”

  I didn’t know what sex the baby was going to be, and I didn’t have a preference, eith
er. I knew some mothers were sure right from the beginning, usually desperately waiting for the day they’d get the confirmation, but all I wanted was a baby who was healthy.

  After all, since it was mine, it would be the cutest baby ever.

  “We’ll be okay,” I stated again, trying to mask my doubts. I’d managed so much on my own. I was sure I’d be able to handle not being alone any longer.

  Chuckling briefly as I carried my cup back into the living room, I decided I could easily keep talking to the baby. I was in the very early stages of pregnancy, knowing all the risks, yet I wasn’t worried about losing it.

  I had no idea where the calm came from, but that was the one thing I did not panic about.

  “I have friends who tell me they craved alone time after they gave birth, but here I am, not being able to wait until I’m not alone anymore. Lacrosse, come here, girl.”

  I patted the sofa next to me just as the first flash of lightning lit up the area. My shoulders tensed as my hands went around Lacrosse and my stomach, protecting what was most important to me.

  I glanced at the clock, seeing it was barely four in the afternoon, and hoped the thunderstorm would pass by quickly.

  Turning on the TV, I waited for the noise to drown out everything else as the rain started, the force knocking against my windows in a regular pattern. It was funny. Rain usually calmed me, no matter how hard it came down. Thunderstorms, on the other hand…

  I jumped when the clap of thunder shook my house.

  Dear Jesus, please let it move on quickly. Please.

  I’d never been the praying type, but at that moment, I figured it couldn’t hurt.

  DALE

  How long can one fucking thunderstorm last?

  This one had been raging for hours and it didn’t look like it had died down at all. It was just as loud, the shaking of the house just as strong, and I had a terrified six-year-old who didn’t stop screaming, no matter how many times I tried to soothe her.

  I rocked her back and forth. “Sally, please, calm down. I’m here. Nothing will happen to you. Nothing will touch you in here. Please.” I knew my daughter couldn’t hear me over her screaming.

  I kissed the top of her head, wishing Clare were here. From where I sat on Sally’s bed, I could see into her living room, finding her cowered on the sofa, the soft candlelight casting her in an almost holy glow.

  It was when I saw her that I remembered the effect she had on my daughter. I knew she was my best—and worst—solution.

  Best, because I hoped it would calm Sally enough to make her stop screaming, and worst, because she deserved better than me emotionally blackmailing her into helping my daughter.

  “I’m gonna get Clare, okay, Sally? I bet she would rather be here with Lacrosse than all by herself,” I stated, not knowing if my daughter heard me. Was she so caught up in her fear that she wouldn’t even notice my absence?

  I slipped out of the room and pulled on my flip-flops. The second I stepped off the porch, my shirt was soaked. I paused briefly, glancing up at the dark sky, rain pelting my face. Lightning flashed, spurring me into motion. I didn’t have any time to spare because Sally was terrified—and because I needed to see Clare. I had no idea where the intense longing came from, why the urge had settled in my chest. I sprinted across our lawns to her door, knocking lightly at first, then harder. I was sure I heard a squeal inside. Clare opened the door, eyes wide, skin pale. She trembled, but before I could say anything, thunder crashed through the air, making her jump.

  Clare was absolutely terrified.

  Not thinking, I gathered her against my soaked chest, burying my nose in her hair before feeling something warm settle on my feet.

  I glanced down. Lacrosse seemed just as petrified as her owner, the poor dog shaking against me.

  Clare shook her head against my chest, her hands fisting my shirt. I held her for a moment, soaking up her closeness. There were so many things I needed to say, but first, I needed my daughter to calm down.

  I gently pushed her away from me and held her at arm’s length, looking into her eyes as I raised my voice so she could hear me over the storm. “Sally won’t stop screaming. She’s hoarse, but still won’t stop. Please, please come over and do something.”

  She stepped back, as if just now noticing that she’d been plastered to me, remembering she was furious. She opened her mouth, but I shook my head. “I don’t care what you think about me, Clare. This is about Sally.”

  She hesitated only a moment, just like I knew she would, then turned to grab her keys, rushing out the door before I could say more.

  “Grab Lacrosse,” she ordered, halfway down the steps when another lightning bolt lit up the area around her. She paused only briefly, jumping, before continuing to my house.

  I remembered the candles burning inside, so ran in to blow them out, making sure everything was safe before I pulled the door closed, scooped up the bundle of fur, and followed her.

  I was soaked when I closed the door behind us, seeing Clare standing in the kitchen and heating some milk, water dripping from her. As much as I’d expected the electricity to go out, it hadn’t, which I was thankful about. She drizzled a generous amount of honey into the milk, poured it into three cups, and handed me one.

  You could still hear Sally screaming upstairs, although it was faint. When thunder rattled the windows, I saw Clare’s steps falter, so I pressed my free hand against her back to reassure her as we walked up the stairs.

  The moment she entered the bedroom, Sally’s eyes widened and she stopped, either because she was thrown off by Clare’s appearance or because Clare beamed at her. Either way, I didn’t care why it had silenced her. I was just glad it had.

  “Don’t you love thunderstorms, Sally?” Clare asked, sitting down on the bed next to her, handing me another mug to hold while she gathered my daughter in her lap, then held out her hand to me. “Here. Take the milk and listen to the rain fall. There’s something so calming about it. Do you know what lightning and thunder mean?”

  I stared at Clare, not believing how calm she was when, just minutes ago, she could barely hold it together herself.

  Again, thunder echoed around us. Sally started to scream again, clutching onto her mug while clawing at Clare, as if that would make everything better. Clare placed the mugs on the nightstand, pointing for me to sit with them as she held Sally against her chest while making soothing noises.

  Eventually, Sally calmed, but didn’t move away from Clare. They looked to be fused together.

  “Thunder and lightning are siblings, best friends. They were captured by the evil witch, who occasionally allows them to walk around free. On those days, they play together, dancing across the skies, bringing their mother, rain, with them,” Clare explained, her voice serious, yet soft.

  I saw Sally’s body still, listening intently. “Those days you only hear rain, it’s their mother crying for the lost boys, but on days like today, when the sky darkens, the family is reunited again. That’s why thunder and lightning are so loud. They are excited, happy to be free again.”

  I took her hand, entwining our fingers. I knew she was terrified, too, and still trembling, albeit not as much as before. She let me hold her hand, which I counted as a huge win.

  “But can’t lightning and thunder break free for good? In fairy tales, the evil witch always dies,” my daughter said in a small, scratchy voice.

  “It’s not that easy,” Clare replied thoughtfully, handing a cup to Sally, who sipped it while watching her. I felt like I was imposing, like I shouldn’t be interrupting this moment. Clare shifted, looking at me. “Why don’t you cuddle up to your dad and I’ll tell you why they can’t get out.”

  I looked at my clothes, thinking maybe I should change. Instead, I wrapped a blanket around Sally before tucking her under my arm. The room was warm, but I still feared my daughter catching cold.

  We were a mess, Clare’s dark curls a wet tangle, her face devoid of make-up, the green tinge so vivid
against her pale skin, I wanted to drown in it. I saw a trace of fear in the way her lips flattened with each new lightning bolt, but she didn’t say anything. I admired her, probably falling even deeper in love with her.

  “In my dreams, there’s always thunder and lightning and someone ends up hurt. Always,” Sally whispered. My head snapped up to look at Clare.

  She scooted closer until her knees touched mine and brushed her hand through Sally’s hair. “Yes, that might be, but that’s not because of thunder or lightning. They are just playing. They’re innocent children, like you. People fear what they don’t know, fear what they can’t explain.”

  Her eyes lifted from my daughter to me. I knew she was quietly scolding me, but I didn’t mind.

  After all, once we got Sally settled, I wouldn’t let Clare go until she had forgiven me.

  CLARE

  Tamping down my own fear, I sat next to Dale and Sally until Lacrosse came into the room, whining to be on the bed with us.

  I’d trusted Dale to grab her from my house, and he’d clearly left her in the kitchen—where she probably chewed on whatever she found before deciding it was too boring without humans and had followed our voices.

  With the pup cuddled up next to her, Sally eventually fell asleep on Dale’s lap. He shifted and laid her down. She had indeed sounded hoarse, so it was no surprise she was exhausted.

  However, with the sleeping girl came the realization that I needed to get out of here immediately. Not that I wanted to be alone, especially because the storm hadn’t moved on, but he’d left, staying away for days.

  He’d broken his promise.

  I couldn’t handle it anymore, no matter how much I reveled in the small touches I’d gotten today. I was like a fucking addict, knowing every little touch would just tear me apart more, yet I craved the hotness in my veins.

  Gathering the mugs, I made my way back to the kitchen, cleaning up what little mess I’d created, then paused at the counter. I willed my feet to move, to carry me back to my house, but they seemed frozen in place.