Page 42 of The Single Dad's Guide to Recreation

“Right!” I set Mabel down so she can join the kids on the pumpkins. “For a writing conference or something?”

“Good memory.” Colleen draws a line between me and Avery. “But how do you two know each other?”

Avery tells her about Playgroup and Trede but doesn’t say anything else about whatever we are to each other. Which is fair, since we can’t seem to get beyondreally like kissing but have a lot of baggage.When Avery begins to ask about the rest of the Bedd family in detail, I have to ask, “So how do you guys know each other?”

“Well, duh,” Colleen says. “We went to the same high school.”

Avery, obviously reading my blank look, adds, “Fork Lick is even smaller than Climax, so the county high school serves both, plus a few other hamlets.”

“Colleen and Avery started a library club,” Sam adds. “So they could get the school to buy romance books.”

“And so we could have somewhere quiet to eat lunch,” Colleen says, swatting at her brother.

A wistful smile crosses Avery’s face. “Luckily, the school board didn’t pay too much attention to content back then.”

“Ugh.” Colleen shudders. “Don’t even get me started on the books those idiots want to ban these days.”

Avery and Colleen talk about old friends while Sam and I chat about his new job for a bit, but a howl from Percy has me stopping him mid-story. “Sorry, man. I think we need to wrap this up. Naptime’s a calling.”

“No worries.” Sam tips his head toward a table where Diane’s ladling out apple cider. “I should probably check in with the boss, anyway. Don’t be a stranger.”

As we strap two exhausted, sun-kissed children into their car seats, each holding a kid-sized pumpkin, I realize that I don’t feel like a stranger. And when I open Avery’s door for her, waiting for her to sit before handing her the pastry box full of apple turnovers, I feel something even more precious.

Like I’m with my family, and we’re heading home.

ChapterFifteen

AVERY

I can’t control all the forces keeping Josh and me from escaping for a weekend alone, so I may as well focus on the positives from the past week, such as: Theo pooped in the potty for the first time, I got an adorable photo of me and Mabel and an internet famous sheep, and on the way back from the farm, Josh and I finally talked frankly about children’s programming at CPR.

The discussion wasn’t as horrible as I’d thought it would be, but the statistics are pretty depressing. He says he’s doing his best to save Playgroup because he gets its value, but we have to think about what’s best for all in Climax, not just a handful of families.

If I weren’t so sexually frustrated, I’d be happy right now. Josh and I have snuck in a couple of make out sessions, each of which left me wanting more. They say that’s a good thing, but I’m having a hard time finding the good in deprivation. Especially now that I know I’m disease-free and don’t even have to worry about birth control.

Which brings up a tricky question. Do I tell Josh that I can’t have kids, at least without expensive interventions? What if he wants to have more? He’s such a great dad, I’d hate to deprive him of that possibility. Fresh anger at the healthcare system that has left me with a broken womb, my mom with a disease that no one understands, and my dad with pain that doctors can’t manage has me groaning so loudly that I almost miss the chime from my phone.

Eager for distraction, I snatch it up.

Josh

Kids in bed. Wish I was in bed with you

Me

Same, dude.

Josh

I’m sorry my life is so complicated

Me

You’re not alone

Josh

Are you alone?

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