Page 3 of Role Play
“What was that noise? Do you want me to come in and help?”
“No!” she barks.
More evidence of the fact Dakota’s growing up too fast. I’ve changed her diaper since the day she was born. I helped potty-train her. Now, very suddenly, she’s embarrassed around me during bathtime. The universe took my baby, and gave me a clever, sassy little princess instead.
Grumbling underneath my breath, I meet the nurse on the other side of the office, this time my hand outreached to properly introduce myself. “Nice to meet you, Kirsten. I’m Forrest. Thankyou for helping my daughter…who clearly wants nothing to do with me.”
She shakes my hand firmly, her eye contact steady. “I’m sure it’s just a phase.” Cocking her head to the side, she smiles.
“What?” I ask, studying the dazed expression she’s wearing.
“It’s really nice to see such an involved father. Most of the time it’s nannies or au pairs dropping off forgotten lunches, science projects, and changes of clothes.”
“Ah…” I trail off, finally understanding the dreamy look on her face. “Well, we are indeed nanny-free.” Hannah has suggested it, but I don’t see my daughter enough as it is. I don’t need to share her with a nanny, too.
“Weas in…?”
“Dakota’s mother and I.”
Kirsten blushes, her pale cheeks turning pink at record speed. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize by ‘we’ you meant you and Mrs. Hawkins?—”
“I didn’t,” I quickly add and she perks right back up.
I’m not dense. The very attractive, blond nurse is interested in me. She’s sweet, probably smart if she’s an RN, and clearly, she’s great with my daughter. This woman is the whole package. I’m sure I’d more than enjoy her company.
There’s just one problem…
The problem I always encounter when it comes to dating. Flings I can do, but a woman who is basically smiling at me with her ovaries is dangerous territory. How would I even begin to explain my job?
“Hannah’s mother and I were never married. We just share custody,” I clarify.
Actually,shareis a bit of an overstatement. One of us is getting the lion’s share of time with Dakota. The other is feeling supremely cheated, but also wary of poking the bear. If Hannah ever took me to court, the judge would ask about child supportand what I do for a living. I could lie, which wouldn’t bode well. I could also tell the truth and implicate my boss. The last thing Rina wants is the feds sniffing around her operation.
“Okay, I see. Well, in that case…” Kirsten tucks a lock of her hair behind her ear, then meets my eyes. Her smile is tepid, seemingly filled with nerves. “I don’t usually do this, and itmightbe against school rules—I’m not sure, I’m just a sub—but could I take you out for a drink sometime?” She blinks at my frozen expression. “Or coffee perhaps if you don’t drink?”
“Oh, I…”
Her face transforms into a look of horror when I don’t answer right away. Luckily, Dakota emerges from the bathroom with both arms in the air, interrupting our awkward moment. “Ta-da.” She twirls around, showing off a white dress with colorful flowers. “See? I like dresses.”
“You look beautiful, Koda. Here—” I beckon her forward, then swivel my finger so she spins around. I fasten the back button on her dress. At least that she’ll let me do.
“I picked Cinderella,” she announces. “That’s what took so long. I almost picked Belle.”
“Why Cinderella?” I fix Dakota’s hair, smoothing it over her shoulders. I like moments like this, when she has problems I can actually solve.
“Ms. Mazer says Cinderella is the only princess with a job and work epic.”
“You mean workethic?”
She nods eagerly. I peer over my shoulder at Kirsten who has her eyes clamped shut as she stifles a laugh. Turning my attention back to Dakota, I ask, “Do you know what a work ethic is?”
“No. But I want one. How do I get a job like Cinderella, Daddy?”
“We’re playing fast and loose with the wordjob, baby. Her evil stepmom made Cinderella do all that work. She didn’t like it, and she didn’t get paid.”
The little cogs in Dakota’s brain are spinning out of control. I can almost see the steam coming out of her ears as she tries to make sense of my explanation. “So,you’relike Cinderella?”
I smooth the front skirt of her dress, feeling the expensive fabric. I have no doubt Hannah picked this up from a pricey boutique. It looks like Sunday’s best for an Easter service.And these are the backup clothes she keeps at school?“Why am I like Cinderella?”
