Page 1 of Role Play
chapter 1
Forrest
I glance at my watch as I’m jogging down the sidewalk to my daughter’s school.Forty-two minutes.Could’ve been worse.
It’s been exactly forty-two minutes from the time Wesley Prep Academy called me to inform me my four-year-old daughter had an accident. Her mother, who is the primary contact, was not answering her phone. Dakota was pulled out of her pre-K class and is currently hiding in the nurse’s office until I can bring her a fresh change of clothes.
In moments like these, I’m pissed I only have my little girl on Wednesday afternoons and one weekend a month. She doesn’t keep a full wardrobe at my place. Not that there’d be much room for her clothes in my small apartment. In fact, the overpriced prep academy she attends is one of the reasons I live in a shoebox all the way in the South Bronx.
Unable to flag an available cab, I had to splurge for an Uber Lux, the only option immediately available. I had the driver drop me off at the drugstore around the corner, praying they had toddler underwear in Koda’s size.
Plastic bag rustling in my hand, I hustle up the concrete steps to the front doors of Wesley. It’s a little anticlimactic that I broke a small sweat racing here just to stand and wait at the locked front doors until Tillie, the elderly front office secretary, can buzz me in.
“Hello. How may I help you?” Her voice sounds through the intercom above me.
“Good morning, Tillie.” I slap on a smile. The security cameras aren’t overtly visible, but I know she can see me. “I’m dropping off a change of clothes for Dakota.”
“Your full name, your child’s full name, teacher’s name, and the family password, please.”
I refrain from rolling my eyes. “Tillie,” I groan. “You know me. I pick up Koda every single Wednesday.”
There’s a small pause. “It’s safety protocol, Mr. Hawkins. I’d like to keep my job, thank you.”
After letting out a short exhale, I acquiesce. “I’m Forrest Hawkins. My daughter is Dakota Hawkins. She’s in Ms. Mazer’s pre-K class. And the family password is ‘Go Giants.’”
Football is the only thing Hannah and I agree upon. I thought I was going to marry and grow old with her. I thought we’d give Dakota several siblings. But now, we tolerate each other. Our only thing in common reduced to our devout loyalty to the New York Giants.
“Thank you,” Tillie replies. “They’re really looking rough this year, huh? Cowboys gobbled them up last week. Take me back to twenty twelve, you know? I don’t even think those boys know what a Lombardi Trophy is anymore.”
I smirk. “Oh, come on now. The new quarterback is just getting his sea legs. This season’s a wash. They’ll look better next year when we pick up a few more linemen. Plus, commiserating over losses is half the fun of being a Giants fan. If they start winning, what’re we going to talk about?”
“Ha.” Tillie lets out a bitter laugh as the buzzer sounds, indicating the front door of the school is now unlocked. “Ms. Dakota is in the nurse’s office. Have a nice day, Mr. Hawkins.”
“Forrest is fine, Tillie,” I remind her as I grab the door handle.
“Protocol,” she answers back.
I walk through the double doors of Wesley and bank a sharp left. I made a point to memorize the school layout during orientation a couple months ago. I didn’t want to look like the clueless dad who only gets to see his daughter ten percent of the time. Although, unfortunately, that’s the truth.
I knock on the nurse’s door expecting to see Ms. Jillian, a sweet-as-pie, retired RN who traded surgical assistance for Band-Aids, thermometers, and ice packs. Instead, a verynotelderly, voluptuous blond woman pulls open the door.
“Are you here for Dakota?” she asks, her whisper borderline melodic.
Holding up the plastic bag, I nod. “How is she?”
She glances over her shoulder. “I assure you, the tears are just from a little embarrassment. She’s not hurt. Come on in.”
The nurse closes the door behind us as I make a beeline for my little girl, clothed in an adult-sized T-shirt, sitting on a small wooden chair in the corner of the office. Her cheeks are bright red and there are thick tearstains starting from the corner of her eyes and trailing down to her chin.
“Hey, baby girl.”
Dakota pouts her bottom lip and crosses her small arms. “I’m not a baby.” I try not to chuckle at her little scowl. She’s mad and she wants me to take her seriously.
“Okay, fine. Big girl, then. Are you okay?” I squat down to meet her at eye level, but she turns her head.
“You took so long.” Judging by her sniffle, the tears are about to start again.
“I’m sorry, Koda. I was all the way across town. I got here as soon as I possibly could.” I bolted out of the tailor’s when I got the call, right in the middle of measurements.
