Page 2 of Alfie: Part One

I smiled to myself and put on my shoes. I guessed I was riding a high after this week. Summer break meant constant funand more adventures. We’d been to a water park, we’d finished decorating the roof deck, we’d had ice cream every day… And now the dreaded Friday was here.

I fucking hated it.

Seconds later, the kids came down the stairs, Ellie with approximately fourteen sparkly clips in her hair, Trip clutching a few books.

Their backpacks waited by the door. One dark blue, one pink with a million little hearts in various colors.

Ellie scrunched her nose at me and giggled. “You look so weird in a tie.”

Don’t I fucking know it, baby girl.

“You say that every Friday I drop youse off,” I replied. “Let’s go, my little acid trip.”

“What’s an acid trip?” she asked curiously.

“Something I won’t explain to a six-year-old,” I said, handing her her shoes. “Did you pack the drawing for Daddy?”

“I did it for her, because she was going to stuff it in her backpack before the glitter had dried,” Trip said. “For the record, glitter is the worst. It gets everywhere.”

“I hear ya, buddy.” I ruffled his hair and combed it back with my fingers. Time for a haircut, I reckoned.

Soon enough, we were ready to go, and I activated the alarm and locked up.

One of the many perks of my job was the parking spot I had right in front of our stoop. Never having to look for parking when you got home…? Heaven.

“Hi, Unicorny!” Ellie had named my new car…

I suspected her favorite feature was the built-in screen in the back of my headrest.

I made sure they were buckled in before I made my way around and got in behind the wheel.Myfavorite feature was the safety. There was a fine line between an SUV and a tank, andUnicorny was dancing all over it. Bullet-resistant glass, check. The ability to turn a sports car into a postage stamp, check.

“You guys hungry?” I peeled out of the parking spot and looked forward to two seconds of easy driving before we hit rush-hour traffic. It was going to be mayhem until we got closer to Ardmore. “I heard you’re having tacos for dinner.”

Drop-off day was the only time West and I made an effort to send a few texts to each other, in order to smooth out the transfer. Today, we’d covered dinner plans and an agreement that Ellie’s stomach issues disappeared when we made her our own bread—recipe courtesy of my mother. The flour was split into three kinds: whole wheat, almond, and flaxseed.

“Yay, tacos!” Ellie cried out.

“Love the taste, not a fan of eating with my hands,” Trip responded decisively.

I snorted quietly and slowed down for a red light. I missed my little boy sometimes. The adorable klutz who’d earned his nickname. It wouldn’t surprise me if he asked us to call him Tanner soon. He was growing up faster than any other kid in my life.

Since we had adopted him when he was four, it sometimes felt like we’d missed out on the kid part. He’d had some trauma to recover from too, and our focus had been on making him as comfortable as possible. And then, slowly but surely, as his nightmares faded and therapy was no longer necessary, the tiny adult made an appearance.

We’d never had to remind him to finish his vegetables, that was for sure.

We had one trick up our sleeves when it came to luring out the child in Trip. Helovedswimming and splashing around in the water. At this point, we’d visited most of the water parks along the East Coast. Before and after the divorce.

I was always jealous when I heard West had taken them to a park, and I was sure he was too, when I’d taken them. In addition, West had a fucking swimming pool. I couldn’t really compete with that.

The only thing I’d moved on from—genuinely—since the divorce two years ago was that fucking house. I’d never been a fan of suburbia life, even less so in these affluent neighborhoods where men played golf and made money and the women’s sole focus was holding the family together.

Now, having cranked it up a notch or two at work, I could afford the good life too. I mean, I had a nice rowhouse and a parking spot to my name, and we were in a good area in Center City. I still wanted that city life. The nearest steak needed to be a short walk down the street. I wanted to be able to walk from the pub. I wanted countless restaurants close by. I wanted the city energy. Just…maybe less littering. I fucking hated people who threw shit on the ground. They were right up there with murderers and politicians.

I pulled into the driveway and parked next to West’s Mercedes, and the kids jumped out. They ran for the door, both forgetting their backpacks.

I grabbed them and braced myself for my weekly West spotting.

Motherfucker.

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