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“Great, we just want what’s best for the girls,” Principal Pearson said.
“We do. Thank you again.”
We shook hands before I turned and left the office.
“Alright, munchkins. Let’s get home so we can do homework and eat,” I said as I reached for Skye and Fee’s hands.
I escorted them from school to my truck. After they were settled in the back, I pulled out of the parking lot and headed to our house.
“Daddy, did Mommy switch days with you?” Fee questioned.
“Mommy will pick you another day,” I answered, looking at her through the rearview mirror.
“She forgot like she did the last time,” Skye answered.
“She forgot, Daddy?” Fee parroted.
I hated that Bee put me in this position. I didn’t want to speak against her to the girls, but I didn’t want to lie to them either.
“I’m not sure. I haven’t spoken to her. She probably had car troubles or something like last time.”
When Bee picked them up late the last time, she told me she’d gotten a flat tire, and it took the tow truck over an hour to get to her. The problem with her story was that when I saw the truck that she drove it still had four regular-sized tires. None of them were the smaller donut tires that were used as a spare. There was no way a tow truck just happened to have the right tire to replace the flat one. I let her have that lie. I didn’t have the energy to argue with her.
“Daddy, she was supposed to do our hair. She told us last week that she would redo it,” Skye said with her arms folded across her chest. “Now, we gotta wait again!”
Looking at my girls through the rearview mirror, I noticed that their hair needed a touch-up.
“Daddy will brush it up for you in the morning before school, okay?”
I wasn’t the best at combing little girls’ hair, but I’d watched a few YouTube videos and knew how to at least make it look decent.
Skye huffed and looked out the window.
“Okay, daddy,” Fee said.
Fee was seven, so some of her mother’s shenanigans were lost on her, but Skye was nine; she saw and understood everything. She rememberedeverything Bee told her and reminded Bee of the promises she made to the girls.
After pulling into our apartment complex, the girls and I made our way to our apartment. They changed out of their school uniforms, gave me the papers from their teachers then sat down to do their homework.
I put a frozen lasagna into the oven while I went to my office to look over the papers from their teachers and make some phone calls.
“Hey Keeva, how are you doing?” I said after she answered the phone.
“Moe! Hey, I’m fine,” she answered over a babbling toddler in the background. “Just getting Mireya settled. She’s having a whole conversation with me, probably about her day. I have no idea what she is talking about,” Keeva chuckled.
“She’s almost two, right?”
“Yes, and I think her terrible twos have started at one and a half. She is into everything!”
“I remember my girls being that small. Now they are old enough to think they are my mothers,” I chuckled.
“Yes, girls will take care of their daddies. So, what’s up? Is everything okay with the swimming classes?”
Keeva and her husband Kerem owned a couple of daycare centers and a recreational center,The Carter. I’d started teaching swim classes atThe Cartera couple of times a week. I taught children who hadn’t had much exposure to water, so they were a little frightened at first. I loved what the rec center stood for. They subscribed to the “village raising the children” mentality. They had free breakfast and lunch for kids in the summer. During the school year, they provided before and aftercare for school-aged kids. Some of the children in the school-aged program were sponsored by other families or businesses so their parents could work and not worry about paying for childcare.
“The classes are great. The little ones are progressing well. Skylar and Phoenix love the dance class they are in with Ms. Laila.”
“I’m glad they are enjoying them. I thought Laila would teach a self-defense class or something since she works for Chambers Security, but nope, her dance classes stay having a waitlist,” Keeva explained.
