Page 41 of The Single Dad's Guide to Recreation

“That must have been hard.”

“I think it was. She never really let me in.”

Sam’s dog wanders up, and he squats to scratch behind Gomer’s ears. After a long moment of staring into the dog’s eyes, he looks up at me. “It wasn’t your job to fix her, you know.”

“Yeah,” I say, even though I still believe I should have been able to.

“Anyway, I meant that it must have been hard on you and the kids.”

“It was definitely hard on them. I know they miss her, but they are happier now. Without that… I don’t know, weight in the house.”

“So what’s this feeling like a fraud thing about, then?”

“You know I’ve never had a job interview? I’ve had two positions just handed to me. Both times, because of Lisa.”

“Are you sure this isn’t one of thoseYou didn’t go to a real Ivy League, you just went to Cornellkind of things? Because that’s some dumb bullshit.”

Lisa did manage to work our degrees into more than one conversation—that she graduated from Yale while I just attended one of Cornell’s state colleges—but that wasn’t the real problem.

“In New York,” I continue, “her family used their connections to get me my first job so we could be closer to them. Because I got her pregnant.”

“Well, there must’ve been more to it than?—”

“And then Eli felt sorry for me and created this job for me at Trede.”

Sam shrugs. “Lots of people get hired because of connections. Most people get a leg up one way or another.”

“Did you?”

“Uh, no. But my job does require a pretty specific skill set.”

“Exactly. I have no skills.”

“Did you get fired from your first job? Because you were incompetent?”

“No. I left. My kids needed me.”

“So, you must’ve had some aptitude for what you were doing. Nepotism is real, but unless you’re the owner’s firstborn, you can’t let the milk go bad. You’ve got to churn some butter.”

“Is that a new saying I’m unaware of?”

“Nah, I’m just hungry.” He slaps his belly. “Anyway, when it comes down to it, all you can do is your best. That’s what I’m working on anyway. I don’t have to be good at everything or know how to do everything. I just have to know enough to ask the next question. And be humble enough to get help when I need it.”

“Where’d you learn this philosophy? Your new girlfriend?”

“Don’t tell Diane”—he leans closer and lowers his voice—“but I learned it from my dog.”

Before I can ask what he means by that, two little arms grab me from behind. “Daddy! Guess what?”

One eye on Percy, who seems to be getting along with the other kids on the pumpkins, I reach around to sweep Mabel into my arms. “What?”

Avery jogs up and drops her hands to her knees to catch her breath. “Whew! Mabel, you’re fast.”

Mabel pats me on the chest. “I wanted to tell Daddy about the cows. A mommy cow’s baby died, and a baby cow’s mommy died so they adopted each other.”

A woman who looks vaguely familiar steps up next to Avery. “Wait. Mabel is Josh’s daughter?”

“Do you remember my twin sister, Colleen?” Sam asks me. “She visited a couple times freshman year.”

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