Trevor
The last time we all sat down as a family for dinner was when my wife was still around.
Though she always hated staying in.
I couldn’t even remember how many times she called a sitter without asking me so that we could go to the latest party or premiere. I was sick of it but hated the fight that followed if I wanted to stay home.
“Why don’t you cook like this?” Eric asked, shoving another piece of pot roast smothered in ketchup into his mouth and chewing like he hadn’t had real food in months. Little shit. “Is this what home-cooked meals taste like?”
I narrowed my eyes then tossed my napkin in his direction. It didn’t make it very far, which just made the rest of the kids laugh and point.
God, I loved them.
“I’m glad you guys like it.” Penelope beamed and then dipped her napkin in her water and dabbed the ketchup from Bella’s face.
She was so natural with them.
Every sitter we’d ever had had been older, mainly because Josephine was paranoid that someday I’d end up sleeping with the nanny. Not that she had any reason not to trust me. She was the cheater. I was the one who was in it for the long term.
I shook my head, trying to get my thoughts away from my failed marriage and on being present for my kids.
On my music.
Penelope squeezed Bella’s hand.
I gripped my fork so hard I half expected it to bend in my palm. Bella deserved that, all three of them deserved that.
Someone to make them pot roast.
Someone to wipe their faces.
They had me, but I wanted them to have more. They deserved to have everything, and I didn’t know how to do that, at least not while I was still figuring out what it meant to be a single dad with three kids under the age of seven.
“Did you guys have fun today?” I asked, standing and picking up dishes to go wash in the sink.
“Yes!” Bella shouted first. “And we had juice!”
“Best day ever,” I teased while Eric gave a little eye roll and shrugged. At least he was eating. He didn’t have much of an appetite, and I knew it was because he missed his mom.
Anger was his way of dealing with things.
He was so like me, it was painful to watch.
I had always had music to ground me, though, music to escape. Eric had no interest in music. He loved video games, which meant I basically had no even playing ground since I hated anything to do with social media and TV. I gave them a little screen time during the day, but I wanted them to be kids, to run outside, play, get dirty, build a treehouse.
Supervised, but still.
“You seem lost in your thoughts,” Penelope whispered as she joined me by the sink and started drying the plates as I handed them to her. “Did everything go okay at the studio?”
I almost dropped the plate. “Wow, first pot roast, now you’re asking about my day?”
I didn’t mean to sound like a jackass, but that was exactly how it came out.
She squeezed her eyes shut like she was in pain and took a deep breath. “Sorry, that’s not…you know what, I should go.” With shaky hands, she set the plate down. Her smile was forced as she said goodbye to the kids and promised to see them the next day.
And I stood at the sink like a dick for another ten minutes before grabbing a few board games for the kids and setting them up at the kitchen table with ice cream.
Once they were all settled with Guess Who, I grabbed my phone and walked into the living room.
Me: I’m sorry. That came out wrong.
I could tell she was typing.
Why the hell was I sweating?
Maybe because she was beautiful, and I’d been ignoring that fact for the last twenty-four hours even while I was caught staring at her during dinner.
Maybe because I’d lashed out.
I groaned and ran a hand through my messy hair.
Penelope: That’s okay. I don’t want you to think I’m intruding on your family in any way. Boundaries are good. I’ll be more professional, I promise.
Shit.
I didn’t want professional.
I wanted…
If the guys could see me now.
I wanted a damn adult friend.
I wanted someone I could talk to about my kids.
I was…lonely.
Funny how you can be surrounded by fame, fortune, people shouting your name, and you still feel like the most isolated person on the planet.
Me: God no, please don’t. If one more person smiles at me and tells me it’s going to be okay I’m going to lose my mind. I need more adult friends who aren’t happy bandmates or people who want something from me. Sorry, overshare.
Penelope: That’s not an overshare. And I get you. I just moved here, remember?
Me: Is this the point in the conversation that I ask if we can maybe hang out? As adults sometime? Not a date.
Great, I really was going to die alone with my drumsticks clutched in my hand. Music would be my mistress. Fantastic. The guys always did tease me about music being more important than anything.
But they didn’t know. It was the only thing that never let me down. It was my constant. I needed it like I needed air to survive.
Penelope: Hah don’t worry I’m a good adult friend. I’m an even better friend because I won’t hit on you. I don’t date famous people. I don’t want anything to do with the spotlight. I’ve seen what Dani goes through. I mean, not that you’d be interested. That came out wrong. My turn to apologize…
I grinned down at my phone.
Me: You mean you didn’t have a poster of me in your bedroom when you were fourteen? I’m almost insulted.
Penelope: I may never show my face again. Guilty. One poster, but I was more of an Andrew girl.
Me: You’re fired.
Penelope: But the drummer and sometimes lead vocalist did have a really great…
I could have sworn I started to sweat. What was I? A teenager again? Not that I’d even dated much, I was too petrified I’d somehow knock up a groupie or end up in the tabloids.
Me: Great?
Penelope: Beat ;) He had a great beat, nice hair too, teeth—
Me: Are you trying to bruise my ego?
Penelope: Is it working?
Me: No, not really. I saw you staring at my abs today.
Penelope: OMG who just changes in front of strangers! You deserved that! I didn’t know where to look, okay?
I burst out laughing.
“Dad? Someone here?” Eric called.
“No, no, sorry just, something funny….on Facebook,” I lied.
“Can you come help us? Bella wants to keep playing, but she keeps guessing wrong on purpose.”
“Do not!” Bella yelled.
“Do too!” the boys said in unison.
I sighed.
Apparently I was done texting a beautiful woman.
Shit.
A beautiful woman who was watching my kids.
Who I had no business involving myself with.
Who had just agreed to be my platonic friend.
I quickly typed out a message so she wouldn’t think I’d left her hanging.
Me: Kids are calling and sorry about changing in front of you. Next time I’ll ask permission. Not that there will be a next time. I think I need a re-do of this conversation. See you tomorrow, Penny.
I didn’t realize until I was lying in bed that night, with Bella and her black T-shirt on my right and Malcom on my left with his purple teddy and Eric with his mouth open snoring..
We’d already given her a nickname.
And it had only been two days.
A handful of hours.
And for some stupid reason I refused to rationalize, I fell asleep with a smile on my face.