The Dating Series

by L. P. Dover

Caleb huffs. “I’m sorry, Bree. The guy’s an idiot. No amount of freedom would ever make me rethink being a father.”

  “You’re a good man.” He laughs, and it’s nice seeing him smile. He hasn’t changed much over the years. His dark brown hair has a couple of wisps of gray mixed in, but it’s not a lot. I don’t think he was able to grow much facial hair in high school, but now he has stubble, which looks rugged and sexy. It’s crazy how people can change over the years.

  “What do you do for work?” I ask him.

  He finishes his hot chocolate and sets his mug down. “I’m a web designer. I used to work for big corporations in Charlotte. I made a ton of money doing it, but after my wife died, I decided to leave it to focus on raising Alyssa. It turns out some of my clients didn’t want to lose me, so I now I freelance and work from home.”

  “Sounds like a win-win to me,” I say. I drink the last of my chocolatey goodness. “You know, I’ve always thought about doing my own website. Maybe I could hire you to design one for my gallery?” He opens his mouth to speak, but I hold up a hand. “That is, if you’re not too expensive.”

  Chuckling, his eyes light up. “I’d be happy to. I could stop by there tomorrow morning if you’re free.”

  I don’t know why, but the thought of him coming to see me makes my heart flutter. “Perfect. I was going to drive to Norfolk to visit the art school, but I can hold off.”

  “Why are you going there?”

  I shrug. “I like to scout out new talent. My Christmas showcase is coming up, and I want something different to give the people. The paintings do amazing, and I usually sell out of them, but I don’t want the town getting bored with the same things. I want some sculptures or unique photographs to display. When I find new artists, it gives them a chance to be seen.” Caleb stares at me, almost as if he’s shocked at what I just said. “What is it?” I ask.

  He shakes his head. “Nothing. I never knew this side of you.”

  This makes me laugh. “I’m sure there’s a lot we don’t know about each other, Caleb. I haven’t seen or talked to you since high school.”

  His gaze darts over to his mother and Alyssa before coming back to me. “There’s something I want to show you tomorrow. It’s kind of a hobby of mine.”

  This piques my interest. “What is it?”

  The grin he gives me makes me smile. “I want to keep it a secret for now. And who knows, if you like what you see, maybe we can work out a deal with the website.”

  Now I’m definitely intrigued. “Sounds perfect to me.”

  Alyssa runs up to the table, and Ruth comes up behind her. “Daddy, I made a friend.”

  She hops into the booth beside him, and Ruth walks up. “We should probably get this little Miss to bed. It’s her first day of school tomorrow in a new place.”

  I smile at Alyssa. “You’re going to have tons of fun. I know you’ll make plenty of friends.”

  Alyssa beams and bounces in the booth. I slide out and set some money on the table, but Caleb pushes it back to me. “I got this, Bree.”

  Ruth picks up my money and hands it to me, winking. “Thanks,” I say to her. Then I turn to Caleb. “I really appreciate it.”

  He shrugs. “You’re welcome. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “See ya then.” I say goodbye to Alyssa and Ruth and head out the door with a smile on my face. I’m looking forward to tomorrow.

  Four

  Caleb

  I knew the moment Alyssa stopped chatting from her booster seat, she had fallen asleep. The drive from downtown to our new house took us nine minutes, apparently six minutes too long for her, but in those three minutes, she recounted her day and how much fun she had. More so, Alyssa was excited to go to school tomorrow now that she had a friend. Which is much better than the tantrum she threw when I told her she would have a new teacher and classmates.

  After I pull into the driveway, I shut my car off and stare at the white, non-descript garage door. At our other house, we had a light shining on the doors during the holidays. Santa and his reindeer were on full display for everyone to see. Here, we have nothing, not even a tree or a string of lights. Right now, I feel like the hairy, pot-bellied, pear-shaped, snub-nosed green creature that I love so much. The only thing missing is my faithful furry companion with fake antlers on this head.

  “I need to get out of this funk,” I say as I pull the key from the ignition and open my door. I fully expect the overhead light to wake Alyssa, but she doesn’t budge. “Lovely,” I mutter. I make my way around the car to her door and open it. She’s still asleep, snoring lightly. As I lean in, I smell the peppermint from one of her candy canes on her breath and see how stained her lips are.

  “Alyssa.” Her name purrs from my lips, a trick I’ve had to learn from my mom in the recent months since my wife passed away. That’s something you never think to learn. I deferred so much of Alyssa’s care to my wife, and because of that, I became a very absent father. My wife never seemed to care, and if she did, she never said anything. I worked because I could provide for our family, allowing her to stay home to raise our daughter. Until she died, I thought everything was perfect. It was except for my parenting skills. I had no idea what cereal my daughter liked or what time she went to bed. It’s the worst feeling in the world, knowing it took my wife dying for me to become an active father.

  “Daddy,” she whispers my name as I gather her into my arms. Every part of me breaks. She’s all I have left of my wife, and I’m not sure how to keep her spirit alive in our daughter.

  It takes me a couple of tries, but I finally get us into our house and get us upstairs. I have no choice but to wake Alyssa even though my mom warns it’s never good to do so. “Sweetie, you gotta wake up.” I sit her down on the toilet and make sure she’s upright before backing away and starting her bath.

  “I don’t need a bath.”

  I chuckle. “Your candy cane-hot chocolate-covered mouth disagrees with you.” My hand runs under the faucet until the temperature is perfect, and then I plug the tub. I add a couple of capfuls of bubbles and make sure to swirl my hand around to start the bubbling process. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Alyssa is undressing. At first, I was uncomfortable and told my mom she had to live with us, even though my father would’ve never agreed. She told me I’m not the only single father out there and encouraged me to search on the internet for some blogs that would help me adjust. I did and have found a few forums with single parents who have helped me with situations like this. Honestly, those people have helped me more than they know.

  Alyssa comes over, and I look everywhere but at her. She holds my hand as she climbs into the tub, and our rule is that she uses the bubbles to cover up. Once she’s in, I let her play for a bit while I head toward her room to turn down her blankets and find something for her to wear tomorrow. The entire time I’m in her bedroom, she’s talking to me about Santa, repeating everything she said in the car.

  “Santa’s so magical,” she tells me.

  “I know he is. He knew your name and everything.”

  “I know. I think Mommy told him.”

  “Do you?” I ask, back in the bathroom. I hold up two outfits for her.

  “That one.” She points to a plaid skirt with a white shirt and vest. “Mommy is an angel.”

  “And you think angels talk to Santa?”

  Alyssa shrugs. “Maybe, or maybe Jesus tells Santa everything.”

  “Yep, maybe.” I leave the bathroom so I can compose myself. My mind drifts to the night of the car accident. An older man lost control of his car during a torrential rainstorm and hydroplaned into my wife’s car, making her run off the road and slam into a tree. About three months after that, the man died of a heart attack. I blamed him for the longest time and even hated him, but I can only imagine the level of despair he felt by taking my wife away from me. I don’t think I’d be able to forgive myself if I was in his place. I miss my wife and always will, but I know she wouldn’t want my heart burdened with
hate. That’s why I’ve made an effort to move on; it’s what she would want.

  When I return to the bathroom after hanging Alyssa’s clothes up, she’s ready for me to wash her hair. She taught me how her mom did it, and I’ve tried to emulate the process every day. There are times when I get it wrong, but I’m learning, and Alyssa knows this.

  “Are you hungry?” I ask.

  She shrugs again and keeps her eyes closed. “Maybe a sandwich and some soup.”

  “I can do that,” I tell her. “What about grilled cheese and tomato soup?”

  “With extra cheese?”

  “Of course.”

  “Can I have bacon on my sandwich?”

  “You can have whatever you want.”

  As soon Alyssa’s hair is soap-free, I tell her I’ll meet her in the hall. I give her the privacy she needs to dry off. When she comes out with her towel wrapped around her head, not in the right way, but the Alyssa way, and wrapped in an oversized towel, I follow behind her as she makes her way to her room. Now that the danger of water is out of the way, I tell her I’ll meet her downstairs for dinner, and then it’s bedtime. For once, she doesn’t complain as she yawns and nods to me.

  When my alarm goes off, I think about staying in bed. Alyssa doesn’t have to start school and can wait until January, and I’m sure there are things we could do today, just the two of us. But, she has other ideas and throws my bedroom door open. She’s dressed in the outfit she picked out last night and has her hairbrush in her hand, shaking it at me.

  “Daddy, get up. I’m going to be late.”

  “It’s six-thirty. You have over an hour,” I tell her.

  “Not when I have to eat breakfast.” Alyssa sets her hands on her hips, her brush still pointing at me. She’s right, she’s a slow eater, but I plan to drive her, at least for a bit, and then figured she can start taking the bus at the beginning of the year.

  “Okay, I’m getting up. I’ll meet you downstairs.” I wait for her to leave and slowly climb out of bed. I glance at my nightstand, and my heart lurches. Tucked inside the drawer is a picture of my wife. I put it there when we moved in because I’m desperately trying to start over. My hand hovers over the knob, and then I think better of it and make my way to the bathroom to get my day started.

  Downstairs, I find my precocious daughter standing on the countertop, rummaging through the cabinets. Without trying to create any panic, I scoop her up and set her on my waist. “Let’s not climb up there, okay?

  “How am I supposed to know what kind of cereal we have?”

  I spin us around and point to another door. After setting her down, she goes to it and laughs. “I forgot about the—what’s it called?”

  “Pantry, and it has a special Alyssa shelf. So, no more climbing, okay?”

  “Okay,” she says as she reaches in and picks which cereal she’s going to have. We work together to get her bowl set up and carried to the table. While she’s eating, I sit there and look through my work emails, client requests, changes, and smile at each new client who wants to hire me. This work from home thing is going to work in my favor for sure. It really gives me the best of both worlds.

  Once Alyssa is done eating her breakfast, I send her off to the bathroom to brush her teeth. She rushes off excitedly, and I love how enthusiastic she is about school. I don’t remember being that way. As soon as she’s done, she runs to get her backpack and waits by the door.

  “I’m ready.”

  Grabbing my car keys, I smile. “Let’s go.” The school is only two miles away from the house, and when we pull up, there’s a long line of cars with parents trying to drop off their kids. “I put your lunch box in your backpack, don’t forget to take it out and put it in your cubby. Also, make sure you wear your coat when you go outside. I’ll be here when the bell rings.”

  “Okay, Daddy. What if Nana comes to pick me up?”

  “Then, Mrs. Braswell will tell you. If she doesn’t, know that I’ll be here. You only get into my car, okay?”

  “Got it,” she says as we pull up to the drop-off. I make her wait until we’re almost in line with the front door.

  “Do you remember where to go?”

  She nods. “I do.”

  “And you’re sure you don’t want me to walk you in?”

  Her eyes light up. “Nope, there’s Cassie, see!”

  I look out the window to verify. Cassie is waving eagerly from the flagpole. I can’t help but smile. Alyssa unbuckles and places herself in the middle of the two front seats. She kisses my cheek. “Bye, Daddy. See you later.”

  “Bye, love bug. Have a good first day. Call me if you want to come home early.” I fear my offer of coming to get her falls on open space because the door slams before I can even finish my sentence. I stay there, parked until Alyssa and Cassie are walking into the building, and I can no longer see them. The person behind me blares their horn, and it takes all I have not to flip them off. I get it; they probably have to get to work. There’s somewhere I have to be as well.

  As I pull into our little downtown, I scan the area, looking for Bree’s store, but I also find myself looking for empty store frontage. I could open my own office and keep the hours I want, although I’m not sure about the expenses. But I like the idea, especially if I can get the local businesses to use me for their websites.

  Bree’s shop is easy to spot. It’s the one decorated with Christmas and art. There’s a parking space right in front of the store, and I grab my portfolio before getting out of the car. I don’t know how long I stand by the window, admiring the snowy landscape painting, but it’s enough that Bree has to come out and invite me in. She has on a long, blue sweater and black tights with her caramel-colored hair in waves down her back. It’s hard not to gape at her when she looks as beautiful as she does.

  “You gonna stand out here all day?” she asks, laughing as she holds the door open.

  I point at the painting. “Sorry. It reminds me of Sugar Mountain.”

  She winks. “That’s because it is.” Her curious gaze averts to my portfolio for a few seconds before turning her beautiful green eyes back to me. “How did drop off go?” she asks as I follow her into the studio. The second I see everything she has, I’m in awe. There are paintings everywhere, all strategically placed where the lighting illuminates every piece. There are even a few unique sculptures scattered throughout. I’m completely taken back by everything she has in the space, but I notice she’s missing the one thing I can offer her.

  “Easy, it seems Alyssa and Cassie had plans to meet up and walk in together. I didn’t have to park and walk her in.”

  Bree leads me into the back room and hands me a much-needed cup of coffee, and motions for me to sit down in one of the chairs she has around the table. “That’s good. At least, she’s adjusting.”

  “True. Sometimes I feel like she’s growing up way too fast. I’m going to blink my eyes one day and find out she’s twenty-five years old.”

  She chuckles. “Ah yes, it’ll happen sooner than you think.” Her eyes drop down to my folder again. “Okay, so should we get down to business. I’m assuming what you have to show me is in there?”

  I nod and set my portfolio on the table. “They’re not anything special,” I tell her as I show her the first photo. “I do this as a hobby.”

  Bree is quiet as she sips her coffee and flips through the portfolio of photos I’ve saved. Sometimes, I like to take pictures of people or scenery, whatever I find at the moment.

  “Where do you display these?”

  “I don’t.” I shake my head slightly. “As I said, it’s a hobby, but I thought if you put them in your gallery for sale, I’ll do your website for free.”

  She continues to flip the pages without saying anything, making me feel like I’ve overstepped.

  “If you don’t think—”

  Bree closes my book gently and sets her hand on top. “Caleb, I think these are amazing and would love to display your work. I feel like I’d be taking adva
ntage, though, because I won’t have an issue selling these. I even know a few customers who are looking for pieces just like this. I’ll have at least five sold by tomorrow.”

  “Really?”

  “Absolutely.” She nods. “But you’re going to have to let me pay you for my website.”

  I shake my head.

  “I have to do something,” she pleads as she sets her hand on top of mine. I’m tempted to pull away but am surprised to find that I like the feel of her hand there. The dads, and some of the moms in the support group I’m in, tell me there is no time limit on moving on and that by us moving means I’m ready to start over.

  “Can you cook?” I ask her.

  Her eyes narrow, and she smiles. “I can. Working at Aunt Mathie’s when I was younger taught me a thing or two.”

  “Okay, how about this?” I say as I lean forward. “Why don’t you come over and cook dinner for Alyssa and me tonight?”

  Bree blinks.

  Shit, wrong thing to say.

  But then her grin widens. “I’ll happily make you guys dinner tonight. Just tell me what time I should be there.”

  Five

  Bree

  “I know you have elf duty tonight, so how about after that?” Caleb asks.

  The sound of rain hits the roof, and I look up at the ceiling. “If it’s raining, there won’t be any Santa visits in the town square. I can come right after I close the gallery. It just so happens I have some chicken marinating in my refrigerator.”

  Caleb grins. “Perfect. That works for me.”

  Opening his portfolio again, I slide out two of his eight by eleven pictures. One is of a boat by a dock with the moon shining on the water giving the whole picture a magical glow. The other is of a pink and yellow flower with a singular raindrop on one of its petals. I’m dying to put them up in the gallery.

  “Can I please frame these and hang them up right now?”

  Caleb’s eyes widen. “Seriously? Right now?”