Page 3 of Brock’s Lost Lunchbox

“No, I imagine they aren’t.” Bridger sat down and tugged his little, Hudson, into his lap. Sammy had arrived with them and stood behind will, arms loosely around his daddy’s neck. “I don’t know any true daddies who are filming and putting it out there.”

“Not to say there aren’t some,” Will added. “But it wouldn’t be my choice.”

Sammy shook his head hard. Dressed in jeans and a button-down, he looked just like anyone else on the street, but after spending these evenings with the Chained coupes, I could pick up on some things. His happiness at seeing his daddy even if he’d only returned from the bathroom or from visiting with littles at another table. His general sweetness and joy at simple things like a cherry on a milkshake or two dino nuggets engaging in a mock battle. It was hard to express exactly, but Will said only a daddy could pick up on it all as I did.

I hoped he was right, because if I wasn’t, I didn’t know where I really should be.

“You’re never going to learn the reality if you don’t give yourself a chance,” Bridger said, as if he’d been in my thoughts. Hudson lay back against his chest, resting his head on his shoulder, so relaxed, so comfortable. The munch was not always in a place with privacy, but tonight, we’d been given a back room, and the littles were all more playful.

Maybe that was why I said, “All right. I’ll come.”

And why I didn’t back out.

Chapter Three

Brock

Today was meeting day. I was at number four already, and each one resulted in a to-do list a mile long. The worst part was, we had an all-staff meeting in an hour, so I couldn’t claim meeting victory and move on to the rest of my work. I was so put-a-fork-in-me done.

More than anything, I wanted to go take my super-late lunch and accidentally not come back. I wouldn’t do that, though, because I was the responsible employee. Too responsible, if you asked me. Not that I was willing to change. It was 100 percent a problem of my own creation.

I shot off a follow-up email for the most recent meeting and stood to stretch. Everything hurt. If nothing else, I needed a walk before the next meeting began. At least all-staff meetings didn’t require me to lead anything, and they usually had cookies. I could use a cookie about now.

My away message was set to lunch. I wasn’t even hungry, despite having worked through yet another break. That was one thing I promised myself I was going to work on. My stomach didn’t need food at a set time, but the companionship was nice.

I sat back down in my chair and closed my eyes. I’d take my walk in a little bit. For now, I wanted a twenty-minute power nap. I’d been up most of the night, thanks to my brain not shutting off. In hindsight, I should’ve called uncle at two and gotten up to do some work. It prevented my sleep whether I was getting it done or not, so might as well be productive.

I didn’t manage to sleep long, someone knocking on my door far louder than necessary. Or maybe it was necessary, and I’d slept through the earlier attempts.

“Come in.”

It was Barry. “Sorry to bug you, but your away message said you were at lunch, and I didn’t see you there.” Which should’ve been all the hint he needed that I wasn’t wanting to be found. But Barry wasn’t one to hunt people down for work.

“What’s up?”

“The water main broke, and that means the building’s shutting down for the day.” He started to leave then turned back around. “The city won’t let anyone stay.”

He knew me well because my initial reaction had been, Nah, it’s fine. I can work without water.

But I quickly saw it for what it was, mandatory time off. True, it was only a few hours, but I was taking it as the excuse I needed to get away from this place.

“Then I’ll make sure and get out of here.” I left my laptop on my desk and only stopped long enough to grab my lunchbox from the kitchen before joining the others filing out. For the first time in I didn’t even know how long, I wasn’t the last one out of there.

I decided to run some errands on the way home, ones I’d been postponing. Super-fun stops, like getting more laundry soap and paper towels. The outing dreams were made of.

Surprisingly, I was loving it. Normally when I went to grab necessities, I rushed around, grabbed what I needed, and spent the entire time being mad I wasn’t doing what I really needed to be doing, which was always work. It was nice moseying along the aisles as I picked up my necessities.

I restocked everything from cleaning supplies to paper products. While I was there, I also grabbed a set of new towels, the most adorable star-decorated unspillable straw cup, a package of socks, and a DVD collection of cartoons popular when I was a toddler. I didn’t need half the stuff that was in my cart, but that didn’t stop me.

Fitting everything in my car turned out to be a feat. The paper towels and toilet paper alone took up most of the available space.

I was half thinking of hitting up the grocery store next and getting some silly gummy shapes and blueberry waffles to devour with my new cartoons. I wasn’t sure why that combination was so good, but I adored it. As I went to shut the trunk, I saw my receipt on the ground. As I picked it up, the date caught my eye and reminded me of my recent text with Sammy.

Today was the little event Sammy asked me to attend. At the time, I’d said I wanted to go. And now I could. Best of all, I’d be there before everybody was tired and grouchy and cleaning up. I’d be able to attend the entire thing.

I sent Sammy a text. I’m going to be able to make it today. There was a water main break at work.

It was only a few seconds later, the bubbles telling me he was typing back appeared. Good. I caught him on time. If he’d already been there, his phone would’ve been locked up. I’d still have gone, but this was better.