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Russ had never said anything about having a daughter. Why wouldn’t he mention that? Was he really married? But where was his wife?
“That’s right,” Miss Gloria confirmed. “E-excuse me,” I said. “I think I can help.” Leading Drew out into the hall, I tried to catch my breath. The information was more than I had expected. Russ had a daughter? Was I risking a family with my fake fiancé idea? It didn’t seem likely. If Russ was in a relationship surely, I would have known. Which meant Carly was from a previous relationship. I was relieved not to be a potential homewrecker, but that did put a new color on the situation.
I got out my phone and started hunting for Russ’s cell number, knowing it would be there somewhere. “What’s happening, mommy?” Drew asked, blinking up at me and rubbing his eyes. “We are going to help Carly, sweetie,” I said, finding the number and dialing. “Hello?” Russ said, picking up on the ninth ring. “Russ, it’s Ann Howell.” “Miss me already?” he asked with an edge. “I’m at the school,” I said plainly. “Oh,” Russ said, not seeming to find this unusual. “I know what’s happening with Carly and would like to help if I can,” I told him. “How would you do that?” he asked. “Well, I was thinking I could babysit while you stay with your sister.” He let out a tired sigh. “That would be great,” he said, brightening a bit. “I still can’t believe you never told me you’re a single dad.” “Can’t you?” he asked. “Well I —” “You’re a single mom, right?” he asked. “Y-yes,” I said, not expecting the hardness in his voice. “So, you know all about the shit they get.” “All too well,” I admitted. “Well, it’s even worse for single dads. Not only is there the stigma of a relationship that didn’t work, but the general assumption is that you can’t hack it. That the kid might just die if left in the care of their father too long. Not that the father has much choice in the matter to start with.”
It stung, but I knew he was right. I’d seen how people reacted when a man even tried to hold a baby, assuming that he would drop it or something. The same bullshit assumptions were still very much alive and well. “And the fact is, I’m not sure I’m doing very well,” he admitted, dropping his voice to a whisper.
His vulnerability made my breath catch. Russ was really hurting, and I had no idea.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. No one knows how to be a parent going in and we all mess up. From what I’ve seen of Carly, she is doing fine. I know she is doing Drew a world of good. I would be happy to take her until things are better over there.” “Thank you,” Russ said, with unexpected gravitas. It of course wasn’t as simple as just strolling into the principal’s office and saying that I was taking Carly home with me. They had to call Russ and make sure it was okay and made me sign out before they would release her to me. I wouldn’t have expected any less from an institution of their sterling reputation. “Where’s daddy?” Carly asked as we walked to the car. “He’s with your aunt,” I said. “Oh,” she said, seeming to take this at face value, “where are we going?” “We are going to my house. Your dad will come and get you later,” I explained, using the same gentle tone I did with Drew. “Can we read?” Drew asked, suddenly brightening. “Of course, you can, honey,” I said, amused by his enthusiasm. “I have a new book!” Drew said to Carly. “Awesome!” the little girl enthused right back. Carly and Drew grinned at each other in a way that made me giggle out loud at their absurd cuteness. I could already tell that Carly and I were going to get along great.
No sooner were we through the door to my home than the kids went running into Drew’s room. Getting my heels off for the first time that day. I poured a post-work glass of wine and sat down on the couch in front of the fireplace.
Though it could sometimes be a bit of a bother, I really did appreciate the money I made, not having to worry about how I was going to support Drew on a single income. The income I had being mildly massive, and even if it wasn’t, I knew Jim would always help. Thankfully it had yet to come to that.
I could hear the kids reading out loud to each other, Drew from Black Beauty and Carly from The Velveteen Rabbit. The classic lines were delivered effortlessly, though in what were recognizably children’s voices. Their vocal chords were underdeveloped, mispronouncing the occasional word. Their “r”s and “l”s still having yet to solidify in their tiny mouths. I wondered, just for a moment, if Mozart’s parents ever had moments like that, listening to their five-year-old compose sonatas.
