Chapter Fifty-Two

Sam

 

Kate opened the Lincoln’s passenger door for me.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Candace crawled over to her car-seat while I buckled Jordan’s restraints. “I’ll be right around to fasten you in.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

I shut the door. “Tell me the truth, did Mom grill you?”

Kate smiled. “Attempted. I said it’s between us.”

“Sure she loved that.”

“Yeah. But I’m not out of the will, yet.”

I walked around the back of the SUV to Candace’s door. “I’ve gotten that threat once or twice. Mom finds it funny or something.”

“A year ago, she promised me her apple pie recipe.”

I laughed. “See, I knew she liked you better than me.” I opened the door. My daughter had tried to do the straps herself. “Candace, you’re all tangled.”

“Sorry.”

“Straps are tricky,” Kate said and I stifled a cough.

Knowing her background, the thought sparked my imagination.

“There. Safe and secure.” I kissed Candace’s forehead and closed the door.

“You’re so sweet.”

“Just being a good dad.” Trying every day, anyway.

Kate played with the edge of my collar. “That’s what makes you sweet.”

“Wanna come?”

“Huh?” She blinked those big green eyes.

“With us, to the park. I take them to the one with the big rocket ship thing—”

“That’s still standing? Wow. I loved that park as a kid. The long slide, all the stuff to climb…”

“Then come play.”

Yes, I knew how that sounded and I didn’t care.

“Okay.”

“Great. Follow me.”

I got in the SUV and she continued to her rental import. I waited until she was seated to back out of the driveway.

We almost kissed when I dropped the kids off and my only regret was Mom’s interruption. It felt like we’d aired enough dirty laundry to move in a positive direction.

Maybe as flirty friends, maybe a couple, but forward.

So I’d take any time with Kate she allowed.

Like tapping into our inner children on a swing set.

This park had a big steel arch the swing chains were suspended from so one could really get a lot of air with some good leg pumps. Boys often tried to launch off those swings and see how far they could fly without killing themselves. But it had a couple bucket seats for little kids, too, and Jordan liked to sway while Candace climbed the rocket.

Kate climbed with my daughter and they slid down the slide together, Candace on Kate’s legs. Since Candace wore shorts today, it kept her legs from getting burnt on the hot metal. I sometimes forgot about that danger, but Kate hadn’t—maybe from experience.

I looked down at Jordan when he babbled something then glanced up to see her show Candace a handstand, the hem of her tank top sliding down to expose her trim abs.

“Ta-da!”

My daughter clapped and squealed, “Me! Me!” Kate dropped to her knees in the sand and gently guided Candace upside-down and supported her legs. “Whoa!”

She toppled over from wobbly elbows.

“Great first try!” Kate told her.

“Daddy, did you see, did you see?”

“I did, Princess. One day, you’ll do it without help.”

Then they ran off to climb something again.

I pushed Jordan’s swing again and he farted. “Whoa. Kid. Okay, diaper change. Kate, I’ll be at the car!” I picked up Jordan and gestured at his butt.

She nodded.

Thanks for loading the kid with a stink bomb, Mom.

Note to self—your son can’t digest blueberries, yet.

His diaper was purple. Cleaned him up, then he toddle-ran to join his sister.

I hurried to catch up before he fell and scraped his hands on the sand and cried, swooping him in the air, and he giggled. Kate grinned at us. It made me warm.

This is what weekends should be.

“I don’t want this to be a one-time thing,” I said when I got close to her.

“You bring them here every week.” She was focused on Candace climbing the monkey bar dome.

“No, you, joining us.”

“Oh.” She glanced at me. “I’m only here two months.”

Minus one week now.

“So it’s two months.”

Her eyes searched my face, then she said, “Okay.”

I held that green gaze until Jordan squirmed hard to get down.

It was a lot easier to wear out two toddlers with two adults at the park. We played until my daughter whined about being hungry, then I invited Kate back to the house for dinner.

To my delight, she agreed.

I carried Candace and the diaper bag and she carried Jordan. He snuggled into the crook of her neck, his telltale need-a-nap sign.

“Put him on the sofa.”

“Not upstairs?”

“Nah. He’ll rest until I’ve made food, then it’s baths and bed.”

“Daddyyyyyyyy…”

I opened the fridge and reached for the bowl of carrot sticks. “Here, gnaw on these until dinner’s ready.” I set her in the high chair.

“How can I help?” Kate asked.

“Wash your hands and have a seat.”

“Sam.”

“I’ve got this.”

“Okay…” She walked off to the nearest bathroom.

God bless toned asses and the inventor of leggings.

It’s dinner. Don’t get ahead of yourself.

What did I have in the kitchen? Pasta, spinach, a jar of cream sauce, a can of mushrooms, a jar of almonds…okay. I could make something for us and something Candace-friendly at the same time. Since Jordan was already sleepy, he’d gnaw on his turkey sticks and that’d be enough until morning. I poured milk into Sippy cups and handed one to my daughter.

Kate returned and hopped onto the one stool. “What’cha makin’?”

Bowtie pasta in boiling water.

“You’ll see.” The pan was hot now, so I drizzled oil and added the spinach. Let it wilt a bit, then the mushrooms. A sprinkle of chopped almonds at the end, then swirl with the pasta and a dab of the cream sauce. Didn’t want to overcook the spinach.

Candace just needed a little sauce on her noodles. I was grateful to have only one picky kid for mealtime. One pan or pot dinners were easiest for a single dad, so that’s where most of my recipes lived. Nearly done, I retrieved Jordan and put him in his chair with his toddler food.

Kate snagged a carrot stick and watched me cook.

I grabbed two plates and plated after popping Candace’s bowl of noodles in the microwave for fifteen seconds to heat the sauce from the cold jar. Ouila.

I handed Kate a fork and waited for her to take a bite before I touched mine.

“What do you think?”

She swallowed. “Not bad. I wouldn’t have thought to toss this stuff together, but I don’t hate it.”

“Thank you.” I dug in. “Pine nuts would probably be a better match, but I don’t have any.”

“Got any parmesan?”

“Just the powdered stuff.”

“That’ll do.”

I retrieved the plastic jar from the fridge. “I need to make pesto again now it’s summer.”

She nodded. “It’s so versatile. You don’t even have to stick to the traditional ingredients.”

“How so?”

“I used mint instead of basil once.”

“Isn’t a big handful of mint too strong?”

“Well…” She swallowed a bite of pasta. “I just made a little bit for a topping sauce on lamb.”

“Ah.” I smiled. “I want to try arugula.”

“Bitey.”

I smiled. “Yeah, I won’t serve that to the kids. Dare to be my guinea pig?”

“Maybe. What’s the reward?”

“Hmm.” What I’d say in front of the kids and not in front of them were two very different things. “Ice cream?”

“Haagen Dazs.”

Of course.

“Deal. Text me when you have a free night and I’ll go shopping.”

“’Kay. I’m not passing up a free meal.”

Feeling relaxed for the first time in months, I grinned, leaning against the counter to eat. Kate was here and seemed happy about it and my kids were quietly eating. If we got through bath time with no tears, it’d be a pretty good day.

Then Kate and I could chill on the sofa.