by Harper Logan
“Sure thing. I mean, it was either have the party here or at On the Rocks, so I think the choice was crystal.”
They both laughed. “That would’ve been something,” Chandler said.
“How’s the tutoring working out?”
“I’m not much of a teacher,” he admitted. “I bought a couple books on how to help a gifted child, but I don’t know if it’s what she needs or not.”
“She told me she’s been starting to read The Secret Garden. That is something.”
“There’s a lot she doesn’t get about it,” Chandler said, “but she likes the challenge of figuring out the words.”
“Heck, I’ve tried coaching Isabelle in ABCs to give her a head start. She just doesn’t get it right now. Throws a tantrum about it. It’s really amazing what April can do.”
“Yeah, she’s special.”
Lexie placed her hand on his arm. “You’re a real good daddy, you know that? You’re doing a great job with April. I know how tough it can be as a single parent.”
“I’m doing my best,” he said. “Though sometimes it feels like my best ain’t enough. She deserves to be in a proper learning environment.”
“Don’t say that, Chandler. You’re doing a fine job.”
He hauled the big bag of trash over his shoulder. “Where should I throw this thing away?”
“There’s a dumpster outside in the parking lot.”
Chandler went outside and threw the bag away. He had been doing everything he could to encourage April’s gifts, but in the end, nothing could shake the feeling of hopelessness he had about his situation. At this point, his worries were less about providing an early education and more about her enrollment in the steaming hunk of shit that was the Everetteville school system. It was just around the corner, and he was positive that the environment would only sap the brilliance from her mind. But what could he do? He didn’t have the education or experience to take himself out of this dump. It seemed like he was destined to stay trapped there, and he’d condemned his daughter to the same fate.
No—if anyone had a chance, it was her. He just had to continue to protect her, and do everything he could for her. He had to make sure she stayed on the path. He remembered the kids he’d gone to school with. There’d be a lot of knuckleheaded no-goods who’d try and corrupt his little girl. Maybe his destiny was to be the intimidating father with the shotgun mounted in the back of his truck cab. He was fine with that, if it came down to it.
It would be so much easier if he weren’t doing it all on his own.
When he went back inside, Lexie was waiting on the couch with two glasses of wine. He could hear April and Isabelle still playing in Isabelle’s bedroom. He sat down next to Lexie, and she handed one of the glasses to him.
“Figure we have time for one drink before you head home. The girls are having fun right now.”
“I ain’t complaining,” he said. “I need a drink.”
“You know, I was thinking,” Lexie said, absently rubbing the stem of her wineglass between her thumb and forefinger. “You and I ought to get together more. You can bring April over. Lord knows we both could use more human contact. I think I’m just about going insane from only seeing clients all day. It’s starting to put me in a dark place.”
“Not hard to see why,” he said. “Most of those guys are scumbags.”
“I could use some interaction with a nice, normal guy for a change. What do you think?”
Chandler sipped his wine. He knew April wouldn’t complain; she loved playing with Isabelle, and she liked Lexie too. It probably was a good idea.
“Sure, why not,” he said. “I think that’d be alright with me.”
Lexie smiled. “Great, it’s a deal, then.” She held up her wine glass. “To more nights like this one.”
“Minus the extra kids,” he said, and clinked his glass to hers.
They sat and talked—or at least Lexie did, he was doing more listening than talking—for an hour and a half, until it was plenty past the girls’ bedtime. After some protesting to let her stay longer, he finally got April loaded into the truck and headed back home. It had a been a great party, and the best part was that he’d successfully convinced all of the parents to give April books as presents. The fact that a couple of them had initially been against that idea bothered the hell out of him. He’d put his foot down about it in the end, but it only served to remind him of his situation.
He constantly found himself thinking about Adrian. Small thoughts, like wishing he could’ve been there at April’s party, or wondering what he would’ve given her for her birthday. The Secret Garden had become her most treasured possession. She was still working on slowly reading through it without any assistance, but he’d read it aloud to her several times already. The way the book was written was somewhat old fashioned and definitely a far leap from Rainbow Six, and so there were times when he found it awkward and confusing to read, but April seemed to have no trouble understanding the writing at all.
After he’d put April to bed, Chandler sat at the kitchen table with a piece of paper in front of him and a pen in his hand, which he tapped against the side of his head. “Adrian,” he wrote. “I hope you’re doing well. April had a birthday party today, and I think you would’ve approved of the presents she got.”
He filled the page with quick updates on life, just like how he’d written when they were still exchanging letters before. When he’d exhausted all the easy small talk, his pen froze and he struggled to write the words that he really wanted to say, about how he felt.
I miss you.
I still want to see you.
The pen hung millimeters above the page, ready to spill out the words, but he just couldn’t bring himself to write them.
“Son of a bitch,” he grumbled to himself, folding the letter into an envelope which he tucked away into a shoe box, where it joined a half dozen other unsent letters from the past three months.
Things were supposed to become clearer. He shouldn’t still be caught up in thinking about Adrian, but his feelings hadn’t changed at all. If anything, they’d only gotten stronger. He’d gotten the smallest taste of what a life with Adrian in it could be like, and now it’d spiraled out of control.
If only Adrian hadn’t come, and had just stayed out of his life, he wouldn’t be feeling this way. Maybe they would’ve been able to move on…
He wanted to believe that, but a part of him knew it wasn’t true. Even if Adrian had never come to Everetteville, a part of him would always have ached for what they’d shared.
It was almost torture.
Not just knowing what things could’ve been like with Adrian by his side, but the ever-present cravings he had for him. There were nights when he’d bolt awake, his heart thundering and underwear dirty from his dream fantasies. Sometimes at work, a customer would roll in wearing the same cologne that Adrian did, and it would put a knot in his throat and a bulge in his pants. Whenever that happened, he would find a reason to go into the back room. The excitement made him feel dirty, because he wasn’t attracted at all to these men. It was just the smell; that delicious, warm, inviting smell.
The nights where he didn’t dream about making love to Adrian, he dreamed about war. Adrian was in those dreams too, but he was always in the distance and out of reach, in some sort of danger that Chandler was powerless to stop. It wasn’t the first time he’d had these types of dreams. He’d suffered from them after coming back from his time overseas, but they’d become less frequent with time, effort and distraction from raising a little girl. It wasn’t until Adrian had come back into his life—and left—that they’d started happening again.
Sometimes, Chandler didn’t know which dreams were worse.
There was a part of him that still wanted to risk it all, drop everything and drive out to New Hampshire to take Adrian up on that offer, but he still couldn't even bring himself to write him a damn letter. It was pride. Pride and fear.
If he wasn’t so damn afra
id, maybe he would’ve just left with Adrian in the first place.
He’d never thought himself to be a coward, but it sure was starting to seem that way. Sometimes it felt like the decisions he was making were only guided by a stubbornness born out of fear. But he had a reason to be cautious. April was more important than anything, and he would always put her first. He couldn’t make stupid, risky decisions that would jeopardize an already rocky future. Her mother had already caused enough pain and trouble with her own selfish actions. He would not do the same.
After putting the letter away, an urge to see Adrian’s face guided his hand to the copy of Rainbow Six sitting on his shelf, and he pulled the book down and opened it. He frowned when the thing he was looking for turned out not to be there. He rippled the pages, but again, found nothing.
Where the hell was the picture?
He tossed the book onto the bed and looked underneath the other things that were sitting on the shelf, then underneath the bed and foldout table he used as a desk. Still nothing.
“What the hell?” he muttered, feeling a flare of frustration. It was the only photo he had of Adrian. He did another round of searching, but came up empty. He didn’t have so many things that it could easily get lost. Had it fallen in the garbage? No, how could it? The only time it’d come out of the book was when Adrian had looked at it. His frustration was starting to bubble up hotter as he searched through his room again and again. How could he lose the only photo he had of Adrian?
He felt his frustration becoming anger, and his palms were clammy with sweat. “Goddamn son of a bitch.” He tore through the book again, and then threw it against the wall. He sat on the bed and rubbed his eyes. His body prickled. Where the hell could it be? Maybe… April had taken it? Maybe she was curious about the book and had found it?
Dammit, if she had…
The doorknob was cold in his hand. He slowly pushed open the door to April’s room, and a sliver of light fell across his daughter’s sleeping face. He’d been angry, ready to wake her up and ask her if she’d taken the photo. The moment he saw her, he felt all of that melt away. He let out a breath. God, what was wrong with him? It was just a photo of a man he was trying to forget. He shouldn’t have been keeping it anyway. To think he was going to wake April up in anger over something like that.
He bit away tears, ashamed of his lack of control, and went to give April a kiss on her forehead. “I love you, honey,” he whispered. “You’re my world.”
Lexie passed by him in the back room at work, draped in a silk robe. “Hey, Chandler.”
“Lexie,” he replied, nodding to her. “How is it out there?”
“You know,” she said, shrugging. “It’d be a lot more fun hanging out back here with you. Mind getting me a glass of water?”
“You bet.” He filled up a plastic cup of ice water and handed it to her before returning to the empty keg he was rolling to the back door. He paused and turned. “Hey, Lexie?”
She was walking to the swinging door leading back out to the floor, and she stopped, looking eager.
“What do you think about getting together, like we’d said? We can make it a playdate for the girls.”
She grinned like it was the single best thing she’d heard all day. “You’re off on Sunday, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Alright. Then it’s a date.”
Chandler felt a little lighter. This was a step in the right direction. It’d be good for April to spend more time with friends outside of the day care, and it’d be a good excuse for him to get out of the house and do something different. Hell, he probably could benefit from spending more time with friends than April could. He’d barely socialized since divorcing Julia and being fired from the garage. Thinking about it, he really had closed himself off.
Sunday came, and when Lexie answered the door, Chandler noticed she was dressed up as if to go out. “You look nice,” he observed. “I feel slightly underdressed.” He’d come in jeans and a worn-out flannel button up.
“No, you look great,” Lexie said, brushing her hair behind her ear and looking somewhat embarrassed. “Come on in. Hi, April! Wow, don’t you look pretty today. Isabelle is in her room.” April giggled and ran inside to play with Isabelle. Chandler followed Lexie in. “I’m just getting dinner started.”
“Anything I can do to help? I brought a pie for dessert.”
“That’s so nice of you, Chandler, thank you! You can pour us a couple glasses of wine and keep me entertained while I cook.”
“What are we eating?” he asked, setting the plastic bag with the box of pie on the counter. He retrieved two glasses from the cabinet and poured them wine.
“Spaghetti and meatballs. It ain’t fancy, but I make the sauce from scratch.”
“April’s favorite.”
They clinked glasses. “I’m glad we got this arranged, Chandler,” Lexie said. “I’m glad we’re actually doing this.”
“Yeah,” he agreed. Since the night he’d discovered the photo was missing, his mind had been surprisingly free of thoughts of Adrian. He suddenly had a thought of how nice it would’ve been to have him here too, the three of them visiting Lexie and Isabelle. An aching pang reverberated through his body. Damn it. Just when he thought that maybe things were getting better, he wanted him more than ever.
Lexie started to talk about how she’d learned the recipe from one of the other dancers at work, and how it’d become Isabelle’s favorite. Chandler listened, but he was distracted. He was doing everything he could to shelve what he was feeling, because it was a deep, throbbing ache that made his throat tight and completely consumed his mind, and he wanted to be present. Wishing that he could be there with him now had sent his mind into a spiral of “what-ifs”. What if they were together? What if he had gone with him? What if, what if, what if.
God, he missed him.
“Chandler?”
He straightened. “Yeah?”
“I asked if you were okay. Am I that boring?” She smirked.
“Shit, Lexie. I apologize.”
“Everything alright?”
“Yeah. I’ve just got a lot on my mind right now.”
“About what? Talk to me.”
“I’m just…” He paused. “I’ve been thinking a lot about April’s education.”
“I understand,” she said. “Chandler, you’re doing the best you can with what you have. I mean, the only way things could be any different is if you left Everetteville for somewhere with better prospects. I know what you’re going through. This town doesn’t have much to offer. If I had an opportunity to get out of here, I’d take Isabelle and be gone in a split second.”
“Really?”
“Heck, yeah. I make decent money dancing, but how many more years of that do I have? And after that, what happens? I mean, the only reason why I’m still dancing is because the money is good. Do you think I enjoy flashing my boobs to strangers? I do it because it lets me save some money for Isabelle. Trust me, you’re a good father, Chandler. You’re a thousand times the man Isabelle’s daddy is. Any woman would be lucky to have you.”
“Well, I appreciate it, Lexie,” he said, slightly taken aback at the unexpected compliment. The spiral of thoughts had been broken, but he didn’t really feel any better. Still, he managed to remain present, and as the evening went on his mood improved and he started to enjoy himself.
After dinner, April and Isabelle announced that they wanted to perform a show for them, and Chandler and Lexie sat patiently on the couch as the two girls danced around with flashlights singing Disney songs. Lexie was sitting close to him, and her leg pressed up against his thigh. He shifted himself to return a small distance between them.
“Very nice!” he said, applauding as the two girls bowed. “Magical performance. Our girls could grow up to be singers.”
Lexie laughed and put her hand on his thigh. “They really could!”
Chandler stood up, and her hand slid away. “I think I could go for some of that pi
e right now. What do you think ladies? Pie?”
April and Isabelle jumped up and down. “Yay!”
“Just a small piece, Izzy,” Lexie said. “I don’t want you bouncing off the walls any more than you already are…”
They sat around and ate, with April and Isabelle giggling to each other the whole time. After they finished, they ran off to Isabelle’s bedroom to continue playing and Lexie made tea for her and Chandler.
“If you could do any job, what would you do?” she asked him.
“Huh?”
“I’m pretty sure being a barback at a strip club isn’t your idea of a dream job.”
“I told you I was a mechanic before, right?”
