Page 55 of Summer with the Single Dad

Bennett grabbed his phone from his back pocket and took pictures of the items Clint needed. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Appreciate it.”

“Well, I gotta go see how the dehumidifiers are working on drying out cabin five. Cam Arendelle emailed me an estimate earlier this morning. It’s pricey, but it’s reasonable and below our deductible.”

“So we’re doing this ourselves and not putting in a claim?” Clint asked, even though it was rhetorical. Disappointment, but also understanding, skimmed his features.

“Yeah. We are. Cam said he’d help. And I’ll work on it, and Jagger and … We’ll figure it out.”

Clint nodded. “I hope so. You’re the money man. We trust you.”

Bennett bid his brother farewell, then headed to cabin five. He could hear the hum of the dehumidifiers before he even reached the cabin. Hopefully, that noise didn’t bother the other cabin guests. He unlocked the free-standing unit and stepped inside. Everything was still really damp, but it looked way better than yesterday.

Cam advised against starting construction until things were dry. That way, they knew exactly what needed to be replaced and what they could salvage and keep. The floors were probably toast, but they might be able to keep the kitchen cabinets. It was MDF, which was notorious for swelling in moisture, but when Bennett checked, the cabinets didn’t seem too bad. The baseboards were warped and would need to be replaced, but things like the rugs and linens just needed to be washed and hung in the summer sun to dry. He had faith that they could repair the cabin under budget and not wind up completely in the poorhouse because of it.

He used the moisture meter Cameron loaned him to check on various parts of the cabin, then returned to his office to pay invoices, deal with payroll, and check emails.

The rest of the day dragged by and it felt like forever and a lifetime before he was walking with Wyatt to meet the kids at the bus stop. The kitchen was slow enough that Wyatt felt like he could step out for a couple of hours before the dinner rush to meet his kids and walk them home. Dom was training the new waitstaff, so he couldn’t leave the bar. Clint was busy packaging up a huge shipment with Cooper and Gladstone for a liquor store in Colorado that was now carrying their beer, and Jagger was … nobody really knew where Jagger was.

“How was your day?” he asked Emme first, as she hopped off the bus before her sister.

“Fine,” Emme said with a sigh. “Aya got into a fight at school though.”

Bennett’s eyes nearly popped out of his head and his stomach plummeted to his feet.

“I did not!” Aya shouted as she stepped off the bus, as angry as a wet cat. “I only punched after I’d been punched. That’s called self-defense.”

“Why didn’t I get a call about this?” Bennett said, taking his youngest daughter’s hand.

“Because nobody told a duty teacher. Nobody knows about it but me, Carnation, Emme and like three other kids. And they’re not going to tell anybody. Sadie, who was one of the other three kids says that snitches get stitches.” Wyatt snorted. Bennett smacked his palm against his forehead. “And Emme only knows because she is nosy.”

“I’m not nosy. I saw you hit Carnation from where I was on the monkey bars. You’re just lucky a duty teacher didn’t see you.”

Aya stuck her tongue out at her sister and scrunched her face up, her brows pinched together so tight they nearly kissed in the middle.

“Hey, we don’t do that,” Bennett said, squeezing her hand. “Be kind to your sister.”

“She tattled on me to you,” Aya protested. “Carnation is fine. I’m fine. See?” She swiveled her face side-to-side. “No bruises.”

“She hit you in the face?” Bennett exclaimed.

“Yeah, but I hit her in the stomach because I know she’s the flower girl at her uncle’s wedding this weekend and will be in pictures.”

Bennett didn’t know whether to laugh, beam with pride, or shrivel in shame. So he remained stoic and unexpressive.

Wyatt was further back with the boys, and Talia was off in her own little world, reading the things written on her pink cast.

“First of all, Little Bug, we do not hit.”

“But it was self-defense,” Aya professed. “She hit me first.”

“I don’t care. It’s up to you to be the bigger and better person and not hit back. If you can help it. If she’s coming at you with wild fists, then block as best you can.”

Aya glared at the ground. “She didn’t cry. I didn’t hit her that hard.”

“Did you cry?” he asked.

“A few tears, but I was mostly just mad.”

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