Page 31 of A Whole New Play

That’s not to say taking care of kids is easy. I have a new healthy respect for childcare workers and stay-at-home parents after chasing after the twins for eight-plus hours a day. By the time I get to Dad’s condo each night, I barely have the energy to do more than eat and shower before I pass out in bed. I’m exhausted, but it’s a good kind of exhaustion.

I enjoy thinking up different ways of keeping Abby and Andy busy. We play different types of board games and card games when we want to stay inside. Sometimes, the twins think up new rules to incorporate into the games. They’ve come up with some creative ways to make games like Candy Land and Guess Who more of a challenge—and much more entertaining.

When we want to brave the Texas heat and play outside, playing in water is a must. Otherwise, we’d last fifteen minutes tops before seeking refuge back in the house’s air conditioning.

Abby and Andy are good at thinking of backyard activities that include water. Like the game of tag Carter drove up to find us playing yesterday afternoon.

The game was basically freeze tag, but with the rule that after the person wielding the water gun managed to hit one of the players who wasn’t “it”, they had to sprint back and touch the back porch step before returning to try and squirt the other player to win the game. Since there were only two participants who weren’t “it”, that was the only way a player had enough time to dive between the frozen player’s legs to unfreeze them to continue the game.

My shins and knees got pretty banged up from army crawling under six-year-olds legs, but hearing Abby and Andy laugh when I dove to the ground and squealing when the cold water hit me made the playtime injuries worth it.

Like I said, I haven’t smiled so much in a long, long time.

I rub the sleep from my eyes as I pad out of the guest room, following the scent of coffee to the kitchen. Dad insists on calling it my bedroom. While I appreciate the sentiment, I don’t allow myself to call it that. I’m lucky to have a parent willing to take me in, but I don’t want to get too comfortable here. I’ll need to figure out my next step, and that includes moving out and living on my own again.

But there’s no rush at the moment. Especially not when I’m working as Carter’s nanny.

“Morning, sweetheart.” Dad sits at the kitchen island drinking coffee. A newspaper lies on the counter next to him.

“Good morning.” I smile at him and then make my way to the coffee maker.

“How’d you sleep?”

“Like a rock.” I open the top cabinet and take out a mug with a picture of me and Dad at a theme park. I’m ten in the photo, smiling with a mouth full of braces while Dad sports a mustache that makes him look like a television star from the eighties. “How about you?”

“I slept well.” He pauses to take a sip of his coffee. “You got in late last night.”

The words don’t sound like an accusation, but I feel the need to explain myself nonetheless. “Yeah, I stuck around for a bit after Carter got home. He seemed a little wound up, and I thought I could keep the twins occupied for a little longer while he chilled out.”

I don’t know, exactly, what transpired at Carter’s appointment earlier that day, but I knew it had something to do with his lawyer. My deduction skills led me to believe the meeting had something to do with his custody dispute with his ex. Considering his mood when he returned, it hadn’t gone well.

Carter did his best not to hide it from the twins, but I know they picked up on their Dad’s sullen mood. They both shot him concerned glances during our game of Hangman.

“That’s a shame,” Dad replies, pulling my thoughts back to the present. There’s an undercurrent of meaning in his words that makes me antsy. “That it didn’t go well, I mean.”

“Yeah,” I clear my throat. “It is.” I pour the coffee halfway into the mug, then turn around and lean back against the counter as I take a sip. “Did you know Carter doesn’t drink coffee?” I blurt.

“I didn’t.”

“Yeah.” I take another sip. “Weird right? I don’t know how the guy stays awake all day without it.”

“Hm.”

I should stop talking. I have no idea why I feel the need to talk about Carter, but I can’t seem to stop. “And he wears glasses. That took me by surprise.”

“Did it?”

“Yup.” I avert my gaze to avoid my dad’s assessing eyes. I’m acting strange. I know it. I try to come up with a reason why. Eventually, I say, “It’s strange for me to see someone like Carter be so… normal.”

“What do you mean?”

I shrug. “He’s a football star, but you wouldn’t know it from his lifestyle. Carter lives in a modest home in a small town. He is raising his two kids on his own, and he wears glasses when he could easily afford laser eye surgery.” I shake my head and stare down at the brown liquid in my mug. “It’s just… weird is all. He isn’t what I expected.”

“Does that disappoint you?”

My eyes fly up. “Of course not.”

Dad tilts his head to the side and hums a noncommittal sound before sipping his coffee once more. He doesn’t say anything else.

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