Page 26 of The Single Dad

He falls asleep before the conclusion, and I smile fondly at him, beyond relieved that he seems relaxed around me. I tuck him in and quietly leave the room, closing the door behind me.

As first days go, I reflect, it could have been much, much worse.

I head down to the kitchen. When I enter, I see Mr. Sullivan sitting at the island, a glass of caramel-colored whiskey on the granite countertop in front of him. Classic presentation, too, poured over a single, large ice cube in a rocks glass.

He notices me and nods in greeting. “Is Archie asleep?”

“Yes,” I say. “He was pretty tired. It was lights out before we finished the dinosaur story.”

At that, a begrudging smile tugs at the corner of Mr. Sullivan’s lips. He takes a sip of whiskey, then gestures to me with the glass. “Do you want something to drink? I have scotch and bourbon, and some wine in the cabinet.”

“I’m okay—thank you.”

“You’re not on the clock at night, you know,” he points out. “Any nighttime needs Archie might have, I’ll handle them. You’re free to enjoy yourself.”

“That’s good to know,” I say with a grin. “But I think I’ll still pass on the drink for tonight. Thank you, though.”

I’m still a little too nervous around Mr. Sullivan to trust myself with alcohol. I don’t want to let my guard down; I might blurt out something stupid if I drink around him.

“I’m glad Archie seems to be warming up to you,” Mr. Sullivan says after a short pause. He seems to be forcing the words out, and I can tell, with a prickle of awkwardness, that he’s not used to making this kind of small talk.

“Yeah,” I agree. “He was a little quiet this morning, but we’ve gotten to know each other a little better since then.”

“That’s good.” Mr. Sullivan takes another drink of the whiskey. The ice clinks in the glass. “Oh, I forgot to mention earlier—there may sometimes be events at Archie’s pre-K that I will need you to attend. Is that alright with you?”

“Of course,” I say.

“Good.” Mr. Sullivan nods. “I want you to be able to speak to his teachers and everything, so that we’re all on the same page.”

“That’s no problem at all. He’s a great kid,” I say sincerely. “Very sweet.”

The little half-smile returns to Mr. Sullivan’s face. “Yeah. I think so, too.”

“He has a lot of empathy,” I add, thinking about how upset Archie was about the loss of the dinosaur. He was less sad about losing a toy than he was worried about the dinosaur, and worried about how I would react.

There’s a distant look in Mr. Sullivan’s gaze as he nods in agreement. He doesn’t say anything.

Trying to break the stilted silence, I continue hesitantly, “I heard that you took him in after his mother died. That was really good of you.”

Immediately, all remnants of Mr. Sullivan’s smile fade from his face. He looks closed-off, his expression severe and foreboding. He stands with jerky movements, like a robot, and says coldly, “I need to get some work done.”

He leaves the kitchen, brushing past me without a backwards glance. I stand by the island, staring into the hallway in confusion.

After a few moments, I heave a sigh. Apparently, it doesn’t even take any booze for me to put my foot in my mouth around my new boss. Great.

* * *

Cole

When I get to my office, I set the half-finished glass of whiskey on the desk and collapse into one of the armchairs in the sitting area, rubbing my forehead.

I have another handle of this scotch on the bar cart in the corner of the room, which is good—I’m definitely going to need it after that conversation, if it could even be considered that.

I’m unsettled, even after all this time, by the mention of Rebecca. I’m sure that Riley learned some of the details of the situation from her brother—I mentioned it to Noah when we first met, so it’s not altogether surprising.

And besides, it’s not like I planned to keep it from her. If she’s going to be the kid’s guardian, she deserves to know things like this. Still, her mentioning it threw me off balance.

The way she looked at me, her eyes luminous and sincere, threw me off balance.

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