Page 14 of Who's Your Daddy
The task is daunting, and regardless of the things I purchase for him, none of them will be what he really needs. He needs a parent.
I may play dumb, but I’m not. I need to get this right. More than I’ve ever needed to get anything right. This little boy’s mother abandoned him with a father he doesn’t know, and now we’re moving him into a run-down joke of a home. I’ve got my work cut out for me.
“Bloody hell!” My brother booms from somewhere in the flat.
I peek out into the living room.
Sully lumbers through the doorway of his own room. “Rodents!”
Brian points at the phone he’s got held to his ear and mouths, “On it.”
“We need a housekeeper. Furniture and groceries too. And someone to fix the window.”
As my brother rattles off one need after another, I add them to my list. We’ve only got forty-eight hours to get this place ready for Murphy and there’s no bloody way I’m going to let him sleep in a place with mice.
I should be just as peeved about this situation as Brian and Sully are. I know I should find this entire debacle miserable, daunting even. But there’s this part of me, a really large part if I’m honest, that is relieved my father forced this on us.
Not the whole living in a disastrous flat part. That’s going to be miserable.
But the part where I have to live with these two men is more appealing than I ever thought it would be.
Because I have no idea what I’m going to do with a child.
And even if Sully isn’t the perfect father, he loves his kid, and he’s a hell of a lot more knowledgeable than I am.
Brian will help too. He may not be a dad, but he helped raise his nephew for most of his childhood. That alone means he’s more qualifiedto be a parent than I am.
After they’ve had a few days to wrap their heads around the changes that are hitting us from all angles, I’m confident we’ll figure this out together. We have to. For the first time in my life my only concern is for someone else: my son.
Chapter 6
Lola
Istudy Murphy where he sits beside me in the back of the town car. He looks so small on the black leather bench seat.
As the driver navigates through traffic, he stares out the window, focusing on the Hudson River below us. His eyes shift from the water to the George Washington Bridge, and then up to the New York skyline.
No fidgeting, no tension in his body, no sign of fear, nothing that would indicate the unease a child typically experiences when heading to a new place with virtual strangers.
“You nervous?”
“No.” His words are flat.
Most kids in his situation would be, but in the days I’ve known him, he’s been emotionless, almost numb. It’s clear that being vulnerable makes him uncomfortable. So far, he’s the opposite of Cal, who is all big feelings. Murphy presents as the kind of kid who’s been let down, forgotten, and overlooked so many times that it has hardened him. It almost seems as if he’s protecting himself by no longer allowing himself to feel.
I wish this wasn’t normal for me. Witnessing this type of trauma. The kinds of walls kids build to hide behind. After eight years doingthis job though, I understand. Pushing won’t help, he needs time and unwavering support.
Hopefully, Cal can give him that.
Internally, I scoff at the thought. It’d be easier to believe in the Easter Bunny than it would be to believe the man-child will magically become the parent this little boy needs overnight.
Though Brian and Sully have experience, they also have to get the office up and running. The need to save the business will be the driving force for the workaholics, so I can’t imagine they’ll be a whole lot of help.
New office, new apartment, new kid.
I blow out a breath.
As irritating as Cal is, I feel for him.
