Single Dad

by Noelle Adams

  “Yes. It feels right to me too. It feels righter than everything else. You won’t believe how wrong it felt when I thought I needed to break up with you for my own good.”

  “I can believe it. It felt like the foundation of my world was cracking in two when I realized you were going to break up with me. Nothing ever felt wronger.” He gives me his slow, intimate smile. His face is damp and exhausted, but it’s also the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. “So maybe don’t do that to me again.”

  “I won’t. As long as you love me, I won’t.”

  WE SPEND THE NIGHT at my place and sleep in the next morning until almost ten, which is much later than normal for both of us. Evidently reaching our emotional resolution caused both of us to physically collapse, because even after we get up, we have trouble finding energy to do anything.

  So we spend most of the day hanging out at my place, and it’s midafternoon when we finally get outside. We turn in the lease agreement so I can be sure to get the house. Then we stop by the grocery store and head over to Max’s house because Rika’s mother is driving her back home in the evening.

  Max makes me shrimp and risotto, and we have a wonderful dinner with wine and candlelight. Then we go to watch TV as we wait for Rika to get back. We’re both on the couch. Max has his arm around me, and I’m cuddled up at his side.

  We’re both so tired and sated after the meal and emotional weekend that we let the streaming service keep playing episode after episode of the FBI show we’ve been watching.

  It’s after nine when Max murmurs, “Freddie should be back soon.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I love you.”

  I giggle at the abrupt shift in topic. “I love you too.”

  “Good. You don’t mind if I say it a lot, do you?”

  “No. Say it as often as you want. I’ll always want to hear it.”

  He gives me a sleepy nuzzle, pressing a few kisses against my hair. I’m smiling like a fool.

  A few minutes later I hear a lock turn in the front door. Then the door swings open and Rika comes in. She doesn’t see us immediately because she calls, “I’m home, Dad!”

  “We’re in here,” Max says.

  She comes into the living room, her eyes scanning us on the couch.

  Max smiles at her. “How was your weekend?”

  “Good. It was really good. What about you?”

  “We had a good weekend too. But we’re glad you’re home.”

  She nods. “I’m glad too.” She comes over, toes off her shoes, and settles down on the couch on the other side of Max. “What are we watching?”

  The three of us watch TV for a couple of hours. And I know I’m not the only one who feels like we’re really home.

  TWO MONTHS LATER, ON a Tuesday evening, I’m working late at the library. The fall semester is well underway, and it’s been the best semester I can remember.

  I love my little house. I’ve adopted a dog from the local animal shelter—a little black-and-white cockapoo named Tulip. (I always planned to name my first dog Alcott, but Tulip was already named when I got her, and the springlike name seems to fit new beginnings.) And next weekend I’m going away for a long weekend at the beach with Max. Rika will be staying with her mother, so it will be just him and me.

  I’ve never been on a romantic weekend trip before. I’m so excited I can hardly contain it, but I’m trying not to annoy all my friends and coworkers by talking about it constantly.

  I’m sitting behind the research desk when my friend May comes into the library, sees me, and hurries over. May is my best friend of the new ones I’ve made this year. She’s single and in her late twenties. She’s tall and slim with gorgeous red hair and a friendly, breezy manner that makes it very easy for people to talk to her. She works in Student Affairs at Milford.

  She’s grinning as she approaches. “Just who I was looking for.”

  “You’re on campus late today,” I say, glancing at my watch. It’s eight thirty. My shift ends at nine.

  “Yeah. There was a student senate meeting this evening I was helping with. But I remembered you worked late on Tuesdays, so I stopped by to see if you had any suggestions for a library meeting space.”

  “Really? For what?”

  “We’re doing a book club thing for first-year students. Once a month. We’ve tried three different places to meet in, and none of them work very well. So I thought the library might be a good place for a book club. Do you have a space that will work for about twenty students? Preferably one that has room for extra in case we have a bigger turnout.”

  I think for a minute. “All our study rooms upstairs are too small. But there’s the art gallery space over there. Right now we’ve got some tables there, so that might work for you. But we can also move armchairs and couches into that area if you want a cozier feel. We’ve been using it as a flex space, and it works really well.”

  “That might be perfect. Do you mind if I check it out?”

  I get up and walk over to the gallery area with her. The paintings have been switched out since the first showing in the spring. I think it’s the nicest, most aesthetically pleasing space in the library, and May clearly likes what she sees.

  She asks about reserving the space, and I tell her to email Carl, who handles that for the library.

  We’ve finished the logistics when May changes the subject. “So are you ready for your trip this weekend?”

  I laugh. “Well, I’m not packed yet, if that’s what you’re asking. But other than that, I’m so ready.”

  “You seem really happy with him. I’m really glad for you.” May smiles at me, her pretty, freckled face proving that her words are sincere.

  “I am happy. It didn’t happen at all how I expected it would, but it’s somehow better this way. I never really realized I could be with a man and not put aside my own dreams and desires. But Max wants me to be and do everything I want, and he actually helps me get there.”

  “That’s exactly what a good relationship should do. Any relationship. Jeremy’s always been that for me.”

  Jeremy Carson is the main IT guy on campus. He’s who we call when our computers don’t work. He’s a cute, geeky guy with an unexpectedly dry sense of humor, and I’ve hung out with him a lot ever since I became friends with May since the two of them seem to do everything together.

  I’m careful as I ask, “So are the two of you... more than friends now?”

  May laughs uninhibitedly, no sign of shyness or hidden feelings on her face. “Oh my goodness, no. We’re just friends. We’ve been friends forever. I got the job here at Milford because he was already here. Didn’t you know that?”

  “No! I had no idea. So how long have you known him?”

  “Since high school. We’re like brother and sister. But it actually makes things kind of hard in the romance department. I know what it’s like to be close with a guy since I’m so close to Jeremy. So I keep trying to find a guy I click with in the same way but who I also have that spark with. So far, no luck. Did you know Max was the one from the very beginning?”

  I shake my head. “We had the spark from the very beginning. Before I even talked to him, we felt that spark. But I didn’t fall in love with him until I got to know him. The spark was instantaneous, but it took a while for the love to come too.”

  May nods, still smiling. “See, that’s how it should be. Spark and then click. Maybe one day it will happen for me. But in the meantime, I’ve got Jeremy to hang out with.” She glances at the phone she’s been holding. “Speaking of, he’s waiting for me. I better get going.”

  I tell her goodbye and head back to my office to get ready to leave for the night. At exactly nine, I’m walking out of the library and over to the classroom building.

  I walk through the main hall and down to the studio room where Max teaches his class.

  His door is open, and I look in. As I expect, he’s leaning against the desk in the front of the room, chatting with a few students who stayed afte
r class.

  He’s smiling and listening and responding encouragingly to their questions and comments. He’s a good teacher, and he really enjoys his class. As far as I can tell, he’s going to keep teaching one class a semester as long as the department wants him to.

  It takes less than a minute for Max to glance over and see me standing in the hall. He gives me a familiar intimate smile before he turns back to his students.

  I don’t hear what he says, but it has an effect of ending their lingering. He packs up his leather saddlebag as the students make their retreat, and then he comes out to where I’m waiting for him.

  He gives me a little kiss. “I love to see you here in the hall.”

  “Why?” I’m genuinely curious.

  “Because that’s how I first saw you. Ever. You were walking down this hall, and I saw you after class. I first wanted you then. I don’t know why, but I did. And it gives me a silly kind of pride that I’ve got you for real now. That’s how I feel when I see you here.”

  I laugh and wrap my arms around his big, warm body. “I don’t think it’s silly. I like to know you’re mine too.”

  “I am. For as long as you’ll have me.”

  “Well, I’ll have you forever, so that sounds about right to me.” I’m not even afraid I’ve said too much. I know Max loves me as much as I love him.

  He smiles again. Presses his lips against mine. And then puts a hand on the small of my back as we walk down the hall and out the building.

  Rika is hanging out with my little dog this evening, so he’s walking me back to my house and picking her up there.

  I have a dog now. I have a house. I have good friends. Pretty soon I’ll have my master’s in English.

  I have a life I really love.

  And I also have Max and Rika.

  For right now, I can’t think of anything else that could make me happier than this.

  Epilogue

  FOUR MONTHS AFTER THAT, I wake up when Tulip jumps on the bed and licks my face at four thirty in the morning.

  She’s usually a well-behaved dog, so she only does that when she really has to go outside. I groan and blink several times, taking the moment to resign myself to crawling out from under my cozy covers.

  I wanted a dog. I love having a dog. And I adore Tulip.

  Which means I sometimes have to get out of bed when I don’t want to because she needs to be taken care of.

  This knowledge—plus the reality that she won’t stop licking my face until I get up—is enough to motivate me to roll over to the side of the bed and stumble to my feet. Max is sound asleep beside me, but his subconscious must be aware of my motion because he makes a low rumble of a sound and shifts slightly. He’s sleeping in his normal posture. On his back with one arm out from under the covers. Right now it’s slung up over his head, causing the covers to slide halfway down his chest.

  I smile with groggy affection at his sleeping form before I follow Tulip out the bedroom and to the back door that leads to the yard.

  I’m hoping the dog just needs to pee, but that’s unfortunately not the case. She runs around frantically, circling up at least a dozen times, and I wish I’d put on a coat before I came outside.

  I don’t like to leave Tulip in the backyard by herself. It’s fenced, but there are gaps in a few places that are more than big enough for an eighteen-pound dog to squeeze out. I’m wearing soft fleece pajamas with books on them that Rika got me for Christmas, but they’re not warm enough for this particular January night. I cross my arms over my chest and try to decide if it’s worth the risk of stepping back into the house while Tulip goes.

  She has almost no attention span, and the slightest thing might distract her from her business right now, extending the time it takes for her to get it done.

  I’m still trying to decide when I hear the storm door open and close behind me. A few seconds later, strong arms wrap around me from behind, pulling me back against a big, warm body.

  “Sorry to wake you up,” I tell Max, twisting my neck so I can look back at him. “I tried to be quiet.”

  “You were quiet. I always wake up when it feels like you’re not there.” He says the words casually as if they’re a simple, unquestionable truth.

  It makes them even more endearing. I’m about to say something rather sappy when I realize something. “Max! It’s freezing out here, and you’re not wearing a shirt!”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You’re crazy. Go back inside. Tulip is almost done.”

  The dog is in her kick-back stage, which lasts anywhere from thirty seconds to three minutes, depending on how proud she is of her accomplishment.

  “I said I’m fine.” His arms tighten around me from behind. “You keep me warm.”

  I giggle and shake my head. “You’re ridiculous.”

  “Maybe.” His eyes are soft in the backyard lights. “But you wouldn’t have me any other way, would you?”

  I turn around so I can hug him. “Definitely not.”

  I’m not sure how long we would have stood there hugging if we hadn’t been interrupted by two sharp yaps. Tulip has finished and is now giving us an outraged look of indignation for making her stay out in the cold a second longer than she wants to.

  I’m giggling again as I pull away from Max and let Tulip back inside.

  I really like having this yard. And this house. And this dog.

  And this man.

  Max puts a hand on the small of my back as we walk back to the bedroom where Tulip curls up on her little dog bed in the corner and starts snoring almost immediately.

  I run to the bathroom before I get back in bed. Max pulls me against him, and I cuddle up to get warm.

  It’s several minutes before I can get to sleep again, but it’s worth it.

  IT’S A TUESDAY, SO I don’t go into work until lunchtime. I can sleep in later than usual, and I have time to get some errands done before I go into the library.

  It’s a long, annoying afternoon since I’m trying to finalize the faculty requests for new acquisitions, and a lot of them are demanding and unrealistic about what we can afford to purchase for the library. Investing in a large collection of books on an obscure aspect of Russian history that only one person will ever use is simply not doable, given our needs and budget. But convincing faculty of this reality isn’t an easy job.

  My day gets a little better after five when I move to the research desk. It’s too early in the semester to have many students seeking help, so I can sit in quiet and work on a few mindless tasks.

  Rika waves when she arrives at just before six.

  I wave back, aware of a swell of feeling that’s almost—almost—maternal.

  Like Rika is mine as much as Max is.

  She goes upstairs to read as she usually does during Max’s Tuesday-night class. I stay at the research desk like a good employee until it’s late enough for me to legitimately take a break. I stop by the bathroom and then take a walk around the building, mostly to stretch my legs.

  I find Rika in her favorite seat.

  She puts down her book—she’s rereading Old-Fashioned Girl—and grins as I approach. She looks happy. More excited than normal. It triggers my curiosity.

  “Has something good happened today?” I ask, sitting in the seat beside her.

  She looks surprised by the question and shapes her expression into a soberness that seems almost intentional. “No. Not really. Why?”

  “You just looked happy—like something good happened. Did you talk to Tim today?”

  Tim is the boy in her class that she has a secret crush on. She’s never admitted that she’s interested in him, but I know she is.

  She frowns. “Not really. He just asked me about the test we have coming up. It’s no big deal.”

  I feel like I know what’s going on now. She had a good conversation with Tim and is still excited about it. Perfectly natural. And I’m not stupid enough to press her for more information when she’s obviously shy about her interes
t.

  I never told other people about the guys I liked either.

  We chat for a few minutes (about things other than Tim), and then I stand up with a sigh. “I need to get back to work. See you in an hour or so.”

  “Okay.” Rika’s expression perks up again, like she’s suddenly remembered what she’s happy about. “See you then.”

  The final hour before the end of my shift drags. I really do like my job, but if it’s a choice between sitting at a desk and pretending to do something productive or hanging out with Max, Rika, and Tulip, there’s very little competition.

  But nine o’clock finally arrives. I go back to my office to close down my computer and get my stuff, and Rika is waiting in the hall when I lock up.

  She’s beaming again.

  “Are you sure something good didn’t happen?” I ask her, scanning her glowing face with fond curiosity.

  “Nope. Not yet. I mean, not really.”

  I frown and shake my head at her. I usually understand her well—we have a lot in common—but every once in a while she’ll have a mood or a response that just doesn’t ring a bell with me.

  We walk down a campus sidewalk to the classroom building and then down the central hallway to Max’s room.

  He’s in there talking to a few lingering students. He catches my eye when I glance in, and his face breaks into a warm, fond smile that makes me melt.

  I lean against the wall to wait for him, hugging my stomach and wondering what I ever did to deserve such a man.

  To deserve such a good man looking at me like that.

  Rika feels tense beside me. I glance over and see that she’s fidgeting with her hair and her top and still obviously trying not to burst with whatever excitement she’s feeling.

  I’ll have to talk to Max about this. If something so good has happened to Rika, we need to know what it is.

  In a couple of minutes, the students file out of the classroom, and Max comes out to stand in front of us. He’s wearing jeans and a long-sleeved shirt that he hasn’t tucked in. He looks relaxed and masculine and sexy and strong and warm.