Page 15 of The Single Dad

It’s not always easy to put the past behind you. Sometimes, it’s downright impossible. I know that as well as anyone.

I should’ve recognized the look on Cole’s face when I saw it. Even after the initial signs of grief have faded, there’s still a residual pain underneath the surface—something that won’t necessarily go away.

I start to type out a longer message to Noah, then erase it and just text back a simple reply.

ME: That makes sense.

I stow my phone in my pocket, but my mind is still on Cole as I reach the end of the block.

I stand outside of the dive bar for a moment—this hole in the wall is one of the places that’s most convenient to meet Olivia for drinks after work, but it’s a little shady, even at this time of night. I tend to wait for her to show up before going inside. If we each have a friend with us, weird guys are less likely to make their moves.

It doesn’t take Olivia long to arrive. She runs up to greet me, a wide grin on her face, her four-inch heels doing nothing to stall her movement.

I’ve always been impressed by the way Olivia can run in heels, but I guess it’s a survival skill for her—she’s only five feet, two inches tall. She tends to wear heels most of the time, if only to make sure that people don’t tower over her.

“Hey, girl,” Olivia says enthusiastically, throwing her arms around me as if it’s been years since we last saw each other. She steps back, brushing a wave of dark, auburn-tinged hair behind her ear. “How was work?”

I exhale, smiling. “I’m just glad to be out of there.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Not terrible. Definitely could have been worse. I’m just having trouble with this job lately—it’s starting to grate at me, you know?”

She makes a face. Her mother used to work as a maid, and the family has never had a lot of money, so Olivia is used to the endless grind of soul-sucking jobs. “I hear you,” she says. “One of these days, we’re gonna figure it out.”

“I hope so.” I turn toward the door, holding it open for her. The two of us enter the bar, waving to the bartender, and get settled in a booth for drinks.

* * *

Cole

The next morning, I call Kerry first thing to get Archie set up with a babysitter. She sends over one of my personal assistants, who greets me warmly at the door.

“Be good, okay?” I say to Archie, who nods seriously and turns to my assistant. He holds up the dinosaur he got yesterday.

“I need to give him a name,” Archie says. “Can you help me?”

My assistant smiles, turning to give me a thumbs up. “You bet, little guy.”

I head next door to Noah’s place. He answers the door shortly after I knock, looking a little surprised to see me. We’ve had a few short conversations as neighbors, and I invited him over to join the guys for poker once, but neither of us is the chatty type, so our friendship hasn’t gone much further than simple waves and greetings.

“Hey, Cole,” he says. “What’s up?”

“Can I come in?”

He stands back, holding the door open. “Well, sure.”

I’ve never been inside Noah’s house before. It’s beautiful, like all of the houses on this street, but it has a sense of emptiness to it—a lot of houses do when they’ve been moved into recently, but there’s something particular to the way Noah’s place seems larger than it needs to be.

“You want something to drink? I was just about to get some coffee going in the French press.”

“That sounds great,” I say, letting Noah guide me to the living room. He disappears into the kitchen, giving me a minute to gaze around the half-finished space.

There are pictures up on the mantle of Noah and a few different people, none of whom look like him—no obvious family photos. Other than that, the living room is sparsely decorated. I wonder if it’s because Noah just moved in, or because he doesn’t mind the minimalism of the place.

Noah reappears a few minutes later with a French press and two coffee mugs. He pours us each a cup, then settles back into a chair. “What can I do for you?”

“I wanted to ask you something,” I say. “I ran into your foster sister the other day.”

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