Page 27 of Part-Time Daddy

“Nah, I’m good with this,” I say, raising the cup in the air. “I’ve got work to do.”

Pulling my phone out of my jeans, I open the notes app and start jotting down a list of questions I need answers for from my boy and bullet points of ways Daddy can help him get what he needs.

Mindful of his ongoing objections, as well as his commitments during the week, I’m confident I can give Tanner enough of a Daddy/boy dynamic without pushing his limits. He only needs to listen, and dinner will provide me with the time I need to convince Tanner to give it a chance.

Give us a chance.

TEN

Being embarrassedabout how easily I caved once Daddy Dean wrapped his arms around me requires far more energy than I can produce right now. Let’s be honest, I was on the verge of a full breakdown, and if it wasn’t for my dark angel being there at the right time, I might not have made it through the surprise visit.

Thanks to Dean forcing me to eat before I got on the road, I manage an extra burst of alertness on the drive to the other side of the county. With the additional few minutes in the car, I prepare myself for the various scenarios I could face when I arrive.

It’s as bad as I thought it would be. When I show up on the scene, a five-year-old answers the door, and all hell breaks loose. I find the parents passed out in their bedroom, surrounded by needles and other drug paraphernalia—all of which I don’t want to look at too closely without the proper authorities on-site. Stepping out of the room, I open the next door and find three kids huddled on a dirty mattress. None of them seem to have had food or a bath in days.

I don’t need to see any more. Decision made, I use my cell to call and request assistance removing the kids from the home. Hours pass as I reach out to our emergency foster list, attempting to locate someone who can keep the siblings together. This is a traumatic situation, no matter which way you look at it. The last thing these kids need is to be separated from one another.

By the time we get the kids settled in the foster home, and all the reports are complete with the police, I’m done. Exhaustion is a four-letter word at this point. Normally, I would plan to work on my case notes as soon as I get home—wanting all the details as fresh as possible—but Daddy’s instructions dance in my head, reminding me that case notes aren’t on the agenda, but sleep is.

Climbing into my car, I shoot him a text before placing the key in the ignition. A few minutes on the road and my Bluetooth announces an incoming text from Dean. I press the steering wheel button to allow Siri to read it aloud.

“From Daddy Dean, bat emoji, black heart emoji: Thank you for letting me know. I’ll be waiting for your call when you get home. Drive safe, Tanner.”

I giggle at how Siri reads the extra emoji I added to his contact when I updated the contact record he saved to my phone. Yawning while I’m at a red light, I stretch my limbs and shake myself awake the best I can. As soon as the light turns green, I press the gas and aim my car home.

At this time of night, the roads are deserted save for a few big rigs on the highway and an occasional car or two. Skipping over the traffic cuts my drive down significantly, and twenty minutes later, I’m pulling into the parking lot. Once in my assigned space, I shut off the ignition and reach for my bag, locking the car behind me as I exit.

Fortunately, the elevator is already in the lobby when I get there, lifting me to the third floor in a few seconds. Inside the apartment, I swing my bag onto the kitchen counter, kick my shoes off at the door, and find my way to my bedroom.

Following Dean’s instructions—as if I could forget every direct word—I brush my teeth and empty my bladder before rinsing the day off in a hot shower. I dress in sweats and a baggy band T-shirt, opting for comfort clothes.

I flick off my bedroom light, turn on my humidifier, and click the button to cast the stars all over my walls. Climbing under my sheets with Luna tucked under my arm, I reach for my cords on the nightstand to plug my cell into the charger.

I pull up Dean’s contact icon and press the button for a video call, waiting until Dean’s face fills my screen with a proud smile, sending bats chasing around my stomach.

“Hi, sweetheart.”

“Hi, Daddy,” I answer, my little side poking through my voice. He brings it out of me so easily, and hidden in my room with no one but Daddy around has me feeling small, vulnerable, and safe. “I did everything you said.”

“That’s my good boy.” Dean leans back, and I see the edge of a pillow behind him. A side light turns on, giving his face a warm glow. “Are you ready for your story?”

“Yes, but—”

“No, buts, sweetheart. It’s story time and bedtime. All adult conversation will wait until dinner tomorrow, understood?”

“Yes, Daddy.” Unwilling to find a reason to disobey him, I cuddle Luna closer, rubbing his fur over my cheek.

“Close your eyes and listen to Daddy.” I do, and he begins, his voice gentle and rumbly. “Once upon a time, there was a lonely baby bat who lived in a cave…”

??????

“This is stupid,” I complain, throwing another shirt on the ever-growing pile on my bed. “I should have never given in to my dumb fantasy.”

Luna stares back at me, silently judging my outburst with his beady, plastic eyes. I’m so tired, I can’t find it in me to care that I’m one, talking to a stuffed animal or two, even with the most restful sleep I’ve had in weeks, I regret agreeing to this whole thing with Dean.

Sleep or no sleep, when I showed up to work this morning, a whole hour before my scheduled start time, I was already behind. Mr. Havers stormed into my cubicle, demanding the case notes I hadn’t yet finished because I chose to go to bed instead.

When I tried to explain it was well after eleven when I got home, he berated me for not—and I quote, “Giving a damn about anyone but myself.” He issued a verbal warning and threatened a final write-up and termination if I couldn’t get on board with being a team player and completing my work on time.

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