Page 10 of Single Dad Problems
“A bridge troll? Seriously?” I changed the subject for long enough to get our food order put in. “I just went to the retreat for food and sleep. When I realized it was a meat market I went into hiding. And I almost made it out clean, too, if it weren’t for you pesky men.”
“That’s not how the saying goes, Mom.”
“I know, Ollie. It’s an anti-proverb. Or a fractured proverb, depending on who you’re asking. You want to learn about them this weekend?” I looked back at him and saw that familiar flash of excitement in his eyes when he found something new to learn. “It’ll give us a chance to read some famous sayings.”
“It’s not going to be like sarcasm class, is it?”
Luke laughed and then tried to cover it with a cough. “Sarcasm class?”
“I did not like sarcasm class. People should just say what they mean.” With a giant sigh, Oliver went back to his book.
“You teach as much at home as you do at school, huh?” Pulling onto my street, Luke leaned forward and looked at the neighborhood. “I’ve never been over here. It’s…cute.”
I snorted. “I can hear the rich boy in your tone. This isn’t the nicest part of town but it’s fun. One of my neighbors sells drugs and another one sells s-e-x to the neighborhood husbands.”
Luke jammed his foot on the brake and made me jerk forward. The seatbelt caught me across the throat but he didn’t seem to notice. He was staring at me with a wild, horrified expression. “Are you serious? You can’t live here! No, I have multiple properties you could rent for cheap. Okay?”
I couldn’t hold my laughter in. It burst free, loud and a little squeaky. Oliver grumbled unhappily from the backseat about the sound, which was a little offensive since he hadn’t minded Luke’s laugh. “I was kidding! I’m sorry! Honestly, this is a good neighborhood. Everyone’s nice and when they found out it was just me and Ollie, they started bringing us food and pies all the time. Even if they were selling drugs and other things, I wouldn’t leave.”
“Are the pies laced with drugs? Because you’re a little too eager about that.”
I shrugged. “Who cares? Pie is addictive either way.”
“You stress me out.” He shot me a look before pulling into my driveway.
The concrete pad was riddled with cracks and the grass desperately needed to be cut but the tiny yellow house was home. The front porch was as wide as the house and I’d found an old rocking chair sitting by the side of the road to make it cozy. Of course, all the planters I’d once filled with herbs and flowers were all boasting dried, brown dead things. Remembering to water plants wasn’t really in my wheelhouse. I owned the house, free and clear having just recently paid it off this summer, and that mattered to me way more than the flowers.
“Home, sweet home!” I grinned at Luke. “Where the pies and the drugs make every day a little bit happier.”
9
Luke
I still wasn’t sure what to think about Callie’s neighborhood. The houses all looked worn down and there were so many random people walking by, some even on her front grass. How the fuck was that safe? The rocking chair on the front porch made me think of my grandmother and how she’d grown up in the middle of nowhere with barely two nickels to rub together. Whenever my family went to visit her, she was always in her rocker, waiting. We spent almost every waking moment of the trip on that front porch, too.
“I should buy a rocking chair.” I sat in hers and hopped right back up when the wood creaked like it was going to fall to pieces. “Shit!”
Callie’s eyes watered as she tried to hold back a laugh. “I picked it up on the side of the road and it needed some help. Let’s say it needed the ER and I took it to my bathroom and used my first aid kit on it.”
Maybe I’d buy two rocking chairs… “I think it needs another check-up, doc.”
Oliver pulled a set of keys out of Callie’s purse and opened the front door. “We’re running late, Mom.”
I trailed along behind them just to have the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. Clutter. There was so much fucking clutter. I waited to see if Callie would freak out and start apologizing for the state of things, the way most women did when you walked into theircleanhomes, but she didn’t even stop to make sure I was following her.
There were books stacked against the living room wall, a canvas set up in one corner with paint pots open on the side table. A basket full of yarn exploded off the coffee table. The TV was on when we walked in, playing something about animals. The couch was covered in unfolded clothes and what looked like a mountain of stuffed monsters. Everywhere I looked I could see another unfinished job or project.
I shuddered and tried to avert my eyes so the compulsion to start organizing her things didn’t take control. “Can I help with anything?”
“Um, no! Just move the laundry over and sit down!” She called from somewhere else in the house. “I’m just getting changed and then I’ll be there. If you’re thirsty, there are drinks in the fridge!”
I looked back at the laundry and cringed. Sniffing the air, I decided that everything was clean, at least. The house actually smelled pretty fucking good, like warm sugar cookies. Of course, Callie’s house would smell like a dessert.
I couldn’t just shift the pile of laundry over. It wasn’t in my nature. I was already folding things when Oliver came in, saw me folding, and joined in. I was holding a pair of his mom’s panties when he broke the silence.
“This is where Mom works. I don’t like it in here. There’s too much stuff and I can’t think.” He looked at my hands and frowned. “Why are you fondling my mom’s underwear?”
“What?!” Callie practically vaulted herself over the back of the couch to snatch her panties from my hands. Dressed in a tank top and tiny silk shorts, she clutched the panties to her chest and flicked her eyes between me and Oliver. “What is happening?”
