Page 77 of Single Dad Dilemma
Bridget smiled, pushing the door open fully. Maggie and Bryce ran in, heading straight to me for a hug.
“Enjoy the game?” I asked them.
Bryce nodded. “Carson was awesome! That twenty-yard run for a touchdown? He shook three defenders.”
“Impressive,” I said.
Maggie held up a container. “Can I hand these out?”
My brow furrowed. “Where’d those come from?”
“Lily helped me make some this morning after you left for the stadium. Double chocolate chip with a little sea salt on the top.” She shrugged. “She said that makes ’em extra good, but salt on cookies sounds a little weird to me.”
I smiled. “You didn’t try one?”
“Not yet. I have just enough for the team. Grandpa tried to sneak one, but I caught him.”
I ruffled her hair. “Go ahead.”
Carefully, Maggie opened the lid to the container and looked around at the celebratory chaos around the room.
I leaned down. “Want a little help getting their attention?”
She nodded.
I asked my assistant coach for something, and he handed it over with a grin. Maggie hopped up onto a chair, put the silver whistle in her mouth, and blew. Loud.
The entire team quieted immediately. Her eyes widened. “Um. You did really good today, and I made cookies if you want one.” She paused. “And there’s no peanut butter because I know Justice is allergic.”
“My girl!” he yelled.
With bright eyes, she held out the container.
Guys shoved each other out of the way, tripping and elbowing their teammates as they rushed toward my daughter. Keshawn started the chant, and soon the entire team was involved. It grew louder and louder, and Bridget pulled out her phone to record what was happening.
“Maggie, Maggie, Maggie!”
Her cheeks were flushed pink, and when she handed out the last cookie and thrust the empty container over her head like a trophy, they let out a raucous cheer.
“And then, andthen, they all yelled my name,” Maggie said. “Did I tell you that part?”
“Yes,” Bryce groaned, pairing it with an over-the-top roll of his eyes.
“Mr. Archer said they were the best cookies he’s ever had in his life. Hiswholelife.”
My mom smiled. “That’s amazing, honey. When am I going to be allowed in a locker room?”
“Never,” Dad said. His eyes remained closed, and his hands were folded over his stomach as he rested on the couch. They’d been in the box with the kids, and Bridget and her wife. “I’m sure they would’ve been the best cookies I’d ever had in my life, too, if I’d been allowed to try them.”
“Everyone feels very sorry for you, honey.” My mom patted his shoulder, only a little bit condescendingly.
The kids snuggled on the couch—one of them next to my mom and the other next to my dad—and I smiled as I watched them.
The best part of having the early game was being home at a decent time, and today it felt even sweeter. For a while, at least, my days would be a bit shorter, have a lot less meetings. I could have dinner with my kids. Not really tuck them in at night, though, because they’d both proclaimed themselves too old to be tucked in anymore.
Needing to let go of that was a loss of sorts, something I hadn’t really thought of when they were younger. One random night—I couldn’t even remember when—was the last time I’d tucked them in. Leaving work early enough to be able to do that had been so important to me, and there was no warning when those things suddenly went away.
The thought of missing them, especially on a voluntary basis like Rachel, was absolutely unfathomable. There hadn’t been a fight over custody because she didn’t want to split anything. I was already dreading the two weeks in the summer they’d be with her. And next Christmas, I’d be alone.
