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“You’re being so—”
“This is unacceptable.” I could see right through her—didn’t she know that? Couldn’t she see how obvious it was she was trying to win Finley’s affection with material things? “What’s your endgame here?”
Traci let out a cold laugh. “There’s no ‘endgame.’ I’m just a grandma who loves her grandbaby and wants her to be happy.”
“You’re about to lose the privilege of calling her that,” I said, staring into her eyes. I knew those words were harsh, but maybe Traci needed to hear them. I had no obligation to keep letting her see Finley, and I was only doing so out of the kindness of my heart. I could stop anytime.
Traci scowled. “It doesn’t have to be like this. You make this so difficult.”
It was my turn to laugh. “You bought the kid a phone without clearing it with me first. She’s not responsible enough to have one yet, and I don’t want her glued to screens. Not yet. I have so many reasons—none of which I even need to explain to you. Now—” I sighed and shook my head, rubbing my eyes. “Now I have to deal with the most epic of temper tantrums.”
“Well,” Traci said, throwing her hands up, “that’s not my fault.”
I reached for my door handle. “Yes it is,” I snapped. I glanced through the window at Finley, who was silently crying now—that was almost worse. When she cried like that, sometimes I had to remind her to take a breath. This wasn’t going to be fun. Before I got in the car, I turned to Traci to say one more thing. “If you want to have a role in Finley’s life, you have to respect my decisions as her father.”
I expected her to snap back with a retort, but instead, she took a deep breath and said, “I’m sorry.”
Nodding, I said, “Okay. We’ll see you next week.”
I’d been so close to telling her to fuck off and that we’d never see her again, but the apology—even if she didn’t mean it—bought her another chance.
Finley cried the entire way home. I couldn’t necessarily blame her, either. Getting caught in the middle of this wasn’t fair. And being given something she’d been begging me for, only to have it taken away, had to crush her. “Fin, I’m sorry. You just don’t understand. Sometimes dads have to make decisions that seem a little mean at first, but in the long run, I know what’s best for you.”
“No you don’t!” More sobbing.
I looked at her in the rearview mirror. “Do you know how old I was when I got my first phone? I was fourteen. You’re lucky I’m not as strict as Grandma and Grandpa were with me.” There was no use in saying any of this—she wasn’t listening.
Her crying had subdued by the time we got home, but her face was wet with tears as I unbuckled her. My heart sank. There was a tiny part of me that wanted to concede, wanted to call Traci and let her know I’d changed my mind—but I knew I had to stand firm in my convictions. If it meant Finley would spend our very last day of summer together being angry at me, I’d just have to deal with it.
As she hopped out of the car, I opened my mouth to further explain why I couldn’t let her have a phone, but she stomped all the way down the driveway into the house. My mom, who was watering the flowers along the front porch, turned to me with her eyebrows raised. “What’s that all about?”
“Traci gave her a phone and I wouldn’t let her keep it.” I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair. “Finley hates me.”
“Well, if your kid hates you, that probably means you’re doing something right.”
“Guess so,” I said, although I didn’t completely agree.
Instead of going inside and dealing with Finley’s wrath, I stayed on the front lawn with my mom, absentmindedly staring at the stream of water coming from the hose. “She’ll get over it,” my mom said, sweeping the hose back and forth over her roses. When I didn’t answer, she turned the sprayer off and looked at me. “You seem stressed.”
Yeah, mom, I’m a sexually frustrated twenty-six-year-old single father with an unfulfilling job who lives with his parents, and my one opportunity to get my rocks off just slipped through my fingers and the thought of Finley starting school tomorrow is literally making me feel sick. I’m fucking stressed. “I’m fine.”
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out to see a notification from the parent communication app I’d downloaded. There was a new message from Kendall.
Hello, parents!
I hope your kiddos are as excited as I am for the first day of kindergarten tomorrow! If you would like to volunteer to be a Room Parent, please bring your forms in ASAP, as a background check will need to be completed before you can begin.
Looking forward to a fantastic year ahead!
-Ms. Devin
“There’s a smile,” my mom said. “Let me guess. A woman?”
“What?” I glanced up at her face and back down at the phone in my hand. “No, it’s Finley’s teacher. I mean, she’s a woman but—that’s not—it’s just a little welcome message, that’s all.” Smooth.
My mom raised an eyebrow at me before returning her attention to the flowers. I reread Kendall's note, considering the Room Parent thing again. I was only half-serious when I told her I was interested, but when I thought about it, I wouldn’t mind having the opportunity to spend time with Finley at school. It would make this transition a hell of a lot easier for both of us.
Getting to be around Ms. Devin would just be an added perk.
