Page 3 of Second Chance with the Single Dad Goalie
“That’s what I said,” she insists.
I glance at the board again. “Is that so?”
“Uh-huh.”
I shake my head, biting back a chuckle. “Where’s your brother?”
“He’s watching Nemo again,” she says, her tone full of exasperation.
I chuckle. “Again?”
“Yes.” She sighs, as if carrying the weight of the world. “He says he’s learning whale language.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Of course he is.”
“He was making funny noises,” she whispers, “but Miss Ruth said he’s not a whale.”
“Well, she’s got a point.”
“But I think he wants to be one,” she adds seriously.
“That so?” I lean back, relaxing into the conversation. “Well, tell him he’s going to have to teach me. Might come in handy.”
She giggles. “But Dadda, you’re big. Big people don’t need whale language.”
“You never know,” I say. “What if I meet a whale one day?”
Another giggle. Then her voice softens. “Dadda?”
“Yeah, baby?”
“When are you coming back?”
I glance at my watch. 12:39 p.m. Seven more minutes.
“Soon, baby. I’m just waiting for Nana’s flight.”
There’s a pause, then a small sigh.
I frown. “What’s wrong, princess? Miss me?”
“Huh-uh,” she lies.
I chuckle. “Liar.”
This time, she doesn’t giggle. I can almost picture her pressing her lips together. There’s a pause, then a quieter, “I miss you.”
A familiar ache settles in my chest.
“I miss you too, baby girl.”
“Tell you what,” I say, lowering my voice like we’re sharing a secret. “I’ll bring you that pink candy you love so much.”
Her gasp is immediate. “The swirly one?”
“The swirly one.”
“With the sparkles?”
