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Elaine giggles, the sound music to my ears. “Okay,” she says, sitting up.
I fix her messy hair as much as I can before giving in and attacking her round cheeks with kisses, her giggles intensifying as I pretend to eat her face. She squirms in my hold, making me laugh before I stand up with her in my arms and bring us to the kitchen.
I sit her down at her chair at the round table in the kitchen, which opens right into the living room. Quickly putting some coffee to brew, I pour a glass of milk for Elaine and set it in front of her, which she happily drinks as I get to work on making her pancakes.
She’s such an easy kid, which I’m constantly grateful for. She eats when she’s told, doesn’t throw that many tantrums other than the time period we went through during the terrible twos and the occasional one she still throws—she’s a toddler, after all. She’s reportedly an angel at day care, which is one less thing to worry about, and is, simply put, the best thing that ever happened to me. All in all, I got really fucking lucky.
“Here you go, baby,” I say, putting the plate of pancakes in front of her. Then I pour the syrup and cut the pancakes up for her, kissing her on the top of the head as I let her eat.
Pouring the coffee in two mugs, I take one of them and walk back down the hall, entering my bedroom where Caden is still lounging on my bed. He catches sight of me, and the corner of his mouth twitches up. “You’re an angel,” he murmurs as I hand him the mug.
I smirk. “You’re only saying that ’cause I make you coffee,” I retort lightheartedly, earning a grin from him.
“And it’s the best damn coffee,” he responds, and he says it so effortlessly that I think he genuinely means it. Looking up at me, he asks, “Is Logan here yet?”
“Not yet,” I say with a shake of my head, trying not to let my mood sour. I glance at the clock. “He should be here in about ten minutes—if he doesn’t run late,” I add with an already aggravated roll of my eyes.
My daughter’s father isn’t always the most punctual person, but sometimes he shows up on time to take our kid. Calling Logan an ex would be an overstatement; the two of us hooked up a couple of times in college, whenever we saw each other at parties, mostly, and I guess those couple of times were too many because an unplanned pregnancy was the result of them. Logan and I hadn’t ever been exclusive with one another, never even thought of or planned to be in a relationship, but becoming parents together was something I readily accepted and Logan, more bitterly so.
And yet, he hasn’t given up his complete rights. While I have primary custody, he gets every other weekend. A few years ago, we talked about him eventually getting her every weekend, but he never brought it up. And if he didn’t, I sure as hell wasn’t going to, either. I find it hard enough sending Elaine off with him as it is.
I don’t know what it is, but I’m sure it has to do with the fact that Logan hadn’t wanted me to go through with the pregnancy when we first found out about it. We were twenty-one, barely out of college, and he had given me a list of personal and, according to him, practical reasons why having a baby would be a bad idea. But as logical as some of his reasons were, I didn’t care.Iwanted the baby, and that was that. If he wanted to be involved or not, that was up to him and I didn’t care what he decided. I’m pretty sure the only reason he didn’t give up all of his rights is because of his parents, but that’s his can of worms to handle.
My own parents. . . That’s another story.
I spend the next ten minutes getting Elaine ready. Her overnight bag of extra clothes, an EpiPen in case of peanut-related emergencies, and her favorite stuffed hippo given to her by her Uncle Cody is already packed and ready to go. “There we go,” I smile at Elaine as I zip up her jacket. Early January in Chicago is cold, and the last thing I want is for my daughter to get sick. As I fix her beanie on top of her blonde head, I pour some enthusiasm in my voice and ask, “You excited to spend the weekend with Daddy?”
“Yeah,” Elaine says with a smile, the picture of adorable as I crouch in front of her. “He lets me watch TV.”
My smile tightens ever so slightly, suppressing the urge to huff in annoyance. She says that all of the time, no matter how many times I tell Logan that dropping Elaine in front of the TV isn’t the ideal way to look after her. But does he ever listen to me? No.
“That’s fun,” I say, just as a knock sounds on the front door. I paste on a smile once more. “There he is! Let’s go.”
I grab her backpack, following her toward the door, and I pull it open to Logan on the other side. He’s in his usual jeans and a hoodie, the perpetual uniform for someone who works as a computer analyst, and his expression almost instantly sours when his eyes meet mine. It’s safe to say we don’t get along, and only are civil with one another for Elaine’s sake.
“Hi, Daddy,” Elaine greets, breaking the tense silence.
Logan drops his gaze down to Elaine, and his expression relaxes somewhat as he gives a small smile to the three-year-old. “Hi, sweetheart. Ready to go?”
Elaine nods and I crouch down in front of her, giving my girl a smile. “Have fun, baby,” I say, and Elaine gives me a hug as I press a kiss to her cheek. I try to ignore the tightening of my stomach, which occurs every time Logan comes to pick her up. I know it’s selfish, given that I have her for the majority of the time, but something inside of me always withers a little every time she goes to spend the weekend with Logan.
“Bye, Mama,” she smiles before we pull away, and I stand once more and hold out her backpack to Logan.
He takes it from me, taking Elaine’s hand with his other, and when his gaze meets mine, I can’t help but say, “Don’t just drop her in front of the TV, alright?”
As usual, his brown eyes darken with annoyance. “How I choose to spend time with my daughter isn’t any of your business, Daria.”
Given that she’s my daughter too, I’d say it is my business, but I don’t say that out loud. I ignore the condescending way he says my name, too. Annoyance sparks though my veins as I say through gritted teeth, “I’d agree if you actually satwithher.”
His lips curl in aggravation, but instead of responding, Logan just turns and walks off, taking Elaine with him. I glare after him, hoping my stare is burning his back, but instantly clear my expression when Elaine looks at me over her shoulder and waves with a grin. My heart tightens and warms at the same time, returning her smile and wave, before they disappear around the corner in the direction of the elevators.
Letting out a breath, my shoulders dropping, I move back inside my apartment and shut the door. I already feel like I need another cup of coffee.
I’m in the pursuit of making some more when Caden emerges from the hallway that leads to mine and Elaine’s bedrooms, dressed in the clothes that he had arrived in the night before, now wrinkled. “Heading out?” I ask as I put some more coffee on.
Caden nods, running his fingers through his messy, dirty blonde hair. “Gotta head to practice,” he informs me. His hazel eyes then flick to the front door as he walks to the kitchen, holding his empty mug. He deposits it in the sink before facing me, his expression serious as his body towers over mine. “I know I haven’t met him, but that guy seems like a prick.”
The corner of my mouth turns up, leaning my hip against the counter and crossing my arms over my chest. “You say that every time you hear him.”
