Page 19 of Sparks with the Single Dad

“Pizza okay with you? I’ll go ahead and order it.”

“Whatever you want is fine with me.”

“What toppings do you want on your half?” Phoebe swipes open her phone.

“My half? Are we not sharing the whole pizza?” I laugh.

“Most people don’t like my toppings. They say they don’t belong on pizza.” I watch as she builds her pizza on the delivery website, adding pineapple and ham to half of the pie.

“Ahh, that’s a universal debate.”

“And where do you stand?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever tried it, but I’m not opposed.”

She glances up at me shrewdly, as if she’s surveying me for signs of deceit.

“What?”

“You’re too diplomatic. It’s suspicious, really.”

I burst out laughing, my chuckles shaking my shoulders. “Oh my god. I’ll try a piece of yours so that I can give you a genuine answer, how’s that?”

“Fine. What’s on your half?”

“Beef and mushrooms.”

“Mushrooms?” Her lip snarls in disgust.

“Oh, look who’s judging now.”

“Hey now, I just—” Her phone starts ringing. “This is my son. Hang on a second.”

“Of course.” I settle back against the seat, pulling out my own phone while she talks. Ashley sent me a photo of Quinn fast asleep and wrapped in her swaddle blanket. I may have to sneak over and see her before I go home. If I go home, that is.

“Hang on, Chance. I’m on my way home.” Phoebe’s soothing tone interrupts my thoughts, and while her voice is calm, her body is rigid. Something has her nerves up.

THIRTEEN

IS HE YOUR BOYFRIEND?

“Hey, hey.” I run up my front steps barefoot to wrap my arms around my son. He folds into my arms, my chest heavy with the realization of just how much I’ve missed him the past few months. Technology is great, but video chatting isn’t the same thing as laying eyes on your child in person. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

He wraps his arms around me, tucking his face into my shoulder. “I just missed you so much, Mom. And Dad’s always working or out with…well, you know. I want to stay with you.”

“Okay, we’ll talk about that. We need to let your dad know you’re here, though. He’ll be worried.”

“Doubt it. He probably doesn’t even know yet.”

Chance’s hurt tone breaks my heart. I know firsthand what his dad’s rejection feels like, but I can’t imagine receiving that from your parents.

“Let’s get you inside, and we’ll deal with that.”

“Phoebe.” Isaac says my name softly, and Chance and I both glance toward the front walk. I left him at the front gate when the Uber stopped, and while I hate that I forgot him for a moment, I don’t feel guilty. My child comes before anyone or anything.

“Who’s this?” Chance moves out of my arms, watching Isaac curiously.

“Chance, this is Isaac. Isaac, this is my son, Chance.” This isn’t how I would have ultimately chosen to introduce them. I don’t know that I would have ever introduced them, actually. I’ve always said that Chance won’t meet every man that my vagina does…and Isaac hasn’t even done that yet.

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