Page 9 of Silver Fox

I glanced back over my shoulder, because I wasn’t sure Tiffany wouldn’t. Except she wasn’t my wife. Thankfully, the grass was still dewy, and she wouldn’t risk ruining her heels.

“I didn't have a wife back then, and I don't have one now.”

She squinted. I had been waiting for three years to see her stunned face. She’d made a mistake leaving Colorado, and she knew it.

“But you have a—”

“I have two daughters. Kensi’s seven, and Laila turned two last March.”

A gulp jerked her chin. “Congratulations.”

“I’m co-parenting, and I’ve been single since before Colorado, I guarantee. So, who’s the lucky guy?” I nodded to the little boy.

“Not you.”

“Okay, I get it. We started off on the wrong foot. I’m sorry.”

“We started off when your pregnant girlfriend showed up moments after we… well, you know what we did.”

Our morning locked away in a maintenance room returned every night in my dreams. That was almost a thousand nights with her and without her, and the constant morning wood didn’t help. I missed her, but as a new father with responsibilities, finding time for someone who didn’t want to be found proved difficult.

“Is that why you left? Because you saw Tiffany pregnant? She said someone helped her out from the spa—”

“No?”

“Was that a question?”

“No?”

I shook my head. “I thought I had you figured out, Laura Young. You weren’t someone who jumped to baseless conclusions.”

“The pregnant belly wasn’t a baseless conclusion.”

“Tiffany surprised me in Colorado. We weren’t together, and I wish you hadn’t left, so I could explain, but I guess I’m too late.” I pointed behind her. Her little one was swinging his or her legs back and forth, looking to Laura for help.

“Are you together now?” she asked, throwing me off as I remembered Tiffany in the car.

“No, I’m a single, co-parenting father.”

“Ossy, Ossy,” the boy cheered from the swing.

“What’s Ossy?” I asked.

“Ahem.” Her eyes flew from the toddler to me. “It’s his name. He’s saying his name. Ozzy.”

“That’s cute. My mother used to call me Foxy, and I couldn’t pronounce my name, so I used to say Ossy.”

“Huh, that’s cute.”

The morning clouds passed, and the sun warmed the playground. The sound of laughing children carried through the park. After we had Kensi, I’d always wanted a boy, but then Laila was born, my world turned upside down, and I fell in love with my second daughter.

“Is it after Ozzy Osbourne?” I asked her.

“No, after the guy fromSurvivor.”

She pushed the swing back and forth again, watching me watching her and the kid. She looked good as a mom; tired, but I bet the bags under my eyes outshone hers.

“You grew a beard?” Her mouth cranked up in the corner. “When did that happen?”

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