Page 1 of The Single Father Upstairs

1

STELLAN

The apartment was silent, and that was unusual.

Living with an eight-year-old, silence signaled something was wrong.

“Indigo?” I was wiping my hands on a dishtowel as I came out of the kitchen.

“I’m okay. Don’t be angry.”

Forgetting about my wet hands, I raced toward my daughter’s bedroom. She was sitting in her room with the remains of what had been her dresser, except now it had gouges on one side, and she was surrounded by splinters of wood.

“I couldn’t control my beast, Dad.” She took a deep breath before letting out a stream of words. “I’m just learning, and I have a long way to go before I meet her and we work together.”

Indigo’s hands were trembling as I took hold of them and kneeled in front of her.

“I’m not angry. Making mistakes with the beast you’ve yet to meet is part of a young shifter’s life.” I kissed the top of her head. “I’ll fix the dresser.”

This push and pull between a young shifter and their beast was common at this age. Not for the first time, I wished I had someone to talk to and share this with. I had no idea if I was managing these growing pains right with Indigo.

I got her back to bed, but when I moved the dresser, part of the wall came away, and the outlet behind it sparked.

That’s not good, my bear pointed out as I put Indigo in my bed and I got on the sofa.

The next morning, I phoned our building manager and explained what happened.

“How big of a hole are we talking about, Stellan?” Jon asked. “Is it a hole-hole or something tiny?”

The shifters in our building had a tendency to repeat words like that to emphasize how big or important something was. Not that I had a clue what the former was but gave him the approximate measurement.

“That doesn’t sound too bad. I’ll be there by nine.”

Indigo left for school after telling me about a new student who insisted she could talk to fairies. My daughter was skeptical because she’d seen no evidence they existed.

“Ahem.” I rapped the kitchen counter with my knuckles. “You have a beast inside you that humans would say was make believe if you told them.”

Indigo made a face. “You’re right. I’ll ask to see the fairies.”

I was about to say something but decided against it. My daughter had to make her own mistakes, and I started paperwork in the small nook designated as my office.

Jon turned up at 9:40. Hemanaged all twelve of the apartments in the building, and there was always something or someone needing his attention.

“Sorry, sorry. Mrs. Munro’s cat, Blizzard, was stuck in a tree and I had to get him down.”

He held up his arm and showed me the scratches. How did a domestic cat injure an arctic fox shifter? Again, I stopped myself from interfering. Thank gods Indigo didn’t see the cat or she would have skipped school and climbed the tree herself.

Jon scraped his toolbox on the wooden floor, and I winced, imagining the damage he’d done. He was always a little wary of me, though there was no need. Neither my bear nor I had an issue with him. He was sweet and kind, though a little befuddled.

He capped the outlet and said an electrician would be here Thursday. That probably meant next week some time.

“There’s a new tenant on the second floor. He’s arriving in the next few days.” He hefted his tool box out the door. “Thought you might like to know.”

I didn’t see how a new person in the building had anything to do with me, and I headed out. One of our neighbors who’d met Indigo this morning said they heard about the incident with the dresser.

“It happens.” She had her infant son on her hip. “You get through it.”

I managed a smile and a nod before spending the day on a kitchen remodel. I was an independent contractor, and after Jon’s visit this morning, I contemplated fixing the wall in Indigo’s room myself and the outlet, even though the building regulations stated I couldn’t.