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If she isn’t able to talk to me and my siblings at least once a day, she gets worried.
“Harrison and Cash are fine. How was Lola this afternoon?”
“She was an angel, like always,” Mom gushes. “Although she was disappointed that she didn’t get to see Waffles tonight. She was looking forward to playing with him.” She pats me on the shoulder when I tense up. “Don’t worry, she cheered right up after she got a snack and watched a few episodes of Bluey.”
“Thanks, Mom, I appreciate it.”
To maintain a semblance of work-life balance, I commute to the city three days a week and work from home the other days. This arrangement makes it possible to be home in time for dinner most nights.
None of this would be possible without my parents’ unwavering support. They’ve been with Lola and me every step of the way since she was a baby, and I couldn’t be more grateful for their willingness to pick up the slack when I fall behind. It also helps that we have Kendra, Lola’s nanny. She gets Lola off to school in the mornings, and occasionally watches her in the afternoons when my parents aren’t available.
“It’s my pleasure,” she says with a smile. “I think it’s so sweet that Marlow brings Waffles over to play with Lola. You’re so lucky to have her as a neighbor.”
“Sure,” I say with a noncommittal shrug.
I’m so lucky that despite repairing the hole in my fence, Waffles still finds his way into my backyard and practically tackles Lola when he sees her. I can’t count the number of times she’s come inside covered in dog hair and slobber, thanks to the canine next door.
Evidently, Waffle’s lack of training doesn’t bother Marlow since she hasn’t rectified the situation. Whenever I bring it up, she brushes me off, claiming that Waffles is perfect just the way he is. I beg to differ—that dog is a menace and needs proper training.
It doesn’t help my case that Lola is smitten with our quirky neighbor. She’s drawn to Marlow’s eccentric wardrobe, bubbly personality, and infectious smile, which I find rather irritating. It’s not natural for a person to be so damn happy all the time. It must be her age. At twenty-three, she still wears rose-colored glasses and thinks everything is made of sunshine and rainbows. Wait until she hits thirty-three when the responsibilities are piling up and life is an endless list of to-dos, appointments, and numbers, all weighing her down.
The demands of being a single parent are undeniably challenging, and I’m doing the best I can, considering the circumstances. But lately, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m falling short of being a good father.
“Are you alright?” my mom asks, snapping me out of my thoughts.
“Do you think I’m a good dad?” I blurt out.
She flashes me a sympathetic smile. “Of course you are, sweetheart. I know things might seem impossibly difficult right now, but Lola is incredibly fortunate to have you as her father.”
“Thanks, Mom. I needed to hear that. I just can’t shake the guilt whenever I’m away from her; she deserves more.”
She dismisses my concern with a wave. “Oh, hush. If you never left, she would get tired of you. It brings your dad and me so much joy when we get to spend time with our favorite grandchild.”
“Lola’s your only grandchild,” I remind her.
“That won’t be the case forever. I’m dreaming of the day when we’re surrounded by grandkids.” She lets out a wistful sigh. “I’m hoping Jack and your sister will start a family soon, and I’m still optimistic that you and your brothers will settle down. Until then, I’ll happily soak up every second with Lola.”
My younger sister Presley lives in New York. She got a job as the assistant to Jack Sinclair, the CEO of Sinclair Group, a large investment firm. After years of sidestepping their mutual attraction, a disastrous work trip to Aspen Grove led to them faking dating to hide Jack’s identity from our family. One thing led to another, and they fell in love.
They’re not in any hurry to have kids, and I know firsthand that my brothers have no intention of settling down anytime soon. But I don’t want to be the one to break the news to my mom.
“Speaking of Dad, where is he?”
“He fell asleep in his recliner watching Bluey with Lola.” Mom laughs. “He won’t admit it, but I think he enjoys watching that show almost as much as she does.”
I don’t doubt it. Lola has her papa wrapped around her finger.
When I leave my parents’ house, there’s a fresh blanket of snow on the road.
As I pull down my street, I notice Marlow hasn’t shoveled her driveway. I’m not surprised, given that she lacks a basic understanding that renting a house comes with certain responsibilities, including mowing the lawn in the summer and shoveling snow in the winter. She probably doesn’t even own a snow shovel.
After parking in the garage, I carry a sleeping Lola up to her room. Luckily, she changed into her pajamas while she was at my parents’ house, making it easy to settle her into bed and tuck her in.
I remember when I cradled my little girl in my arms for the first time and gazed into those captivating big blue eyes. She instantly captured my heart. I vowed she would always come first, no matter what. I just never expected that I’d be doing this whole parenting thing on my own.
Before Lola was born, I lived in the city with Maddie, my ex-girlfriend. She left when Lola was six weeks old, making it an easy decision to move back to Aspen Grove so Lola and I could be closer to my parents. Despite my mom wanting us to move in with her and my dad, I chose to buy a place down the street from the local elementary school.
“I love you, ladybug,” I whisper into Lola’s hair. “Nothing will ever matter more to me than you.” I press a kiss to her forehead before quietly leaving her room.
