“I’ll pick him up around five,” she said and handed Lena back to me before leaning her head inside the house. “See you tonight, mijo.”
I waved her off. “No rush.”
She left to go to work, even though it was Sunday. She was a lawyer, and her job was the second most important thing to her, right after her son. Usually her parents watched Felix, but they were on a weekend trip to celebrate their fortieth wedding anniversary.
And I was all too happy to help. Usually I needed people to do me favors, so whenever I had the chance to pay them back, I jumped at it.
We spent the day playing in the backyard, then walked to the playground just across the street. I watched them go down the slide 2,876 times and get on and off the swing 5,409 times before I convinced them that going home was a great idea.
It was getting dark, and I didn’t want to be outside too late, no matter how safe the neighborhood.
The boys disappeared inside the kids’ room as soon as we got back. Lena was happy playing with her dolls, and I used the rare moment of reprieve to start dinner. It was another pasta night—no judgment required, I did enough of that myself.
“Kidlets, dinner is ready,” I called out after dumping the sauce in a pan. The pasta was done, and the sauce would only take a minute to heat up.
I put the plates and cutlery on the table and called out again. When there was still no movement, I walked to the room. When I opened the door, I was greeted by a toy Armageddon. The floor was covered in them, and the kids had ripped the bedding off the bed.
I took a step inside and landed right on one of Luca’s transformers.
“Merlin’s rabbit,” I called out, jumping back out of the room. That hurt just as much as the last twenty times it happened.
“Mommy ouchie,” Lena said, toddling over to where I was still hopping.
“Big mother puffin ouchie,” I said and picked her up when I was sure my foot was going to recover. “You hungry?”
She nodded, her mind successfully redirected from my injury to eating food.
“Luca, Felix, it’s time for dinner,” I told the boys and sat Lena in her highchair.
The boys finally joined us after I threatened to take away their dessert if they didn’t eat a real meal first.
Dinner was messy, but the kids ate most of it, and that’s really all I cared about. The new stains mingled with the old ones, and it would probably be another week before I cleaned them off the floor.
When Malena came back, the kids were sitting in front of the TV in their pajamas, watching Paw Patrol.
“Fed, cleaned, and ready for bed,” I said, beaming at her. This was one of those unicorn moments that only came around once every hundred days.
“How did you convince them to take a bath? Felix keeps telling me that the dirt on his feet is clean dirt and he doesn’t need to wash himself.”
“Ha, yeah, he tried that one on me as well. I told him you would go to Fun World with us if he got in the bath.”
“I hate that place,” she groaned. “Besides, I’m working weekends for the foreseeable future. I want to make partner.”
“Every weekend? That’s crazy.”
“You have two jobs. Aren’t you throwing rocks out of a glass house here?”
She had a point. We were both hopeless. The only difference was that she loved her job. I didn’t.
“I know, I know,” I said, helping her collect Felix’s things that were strewn around the house.
After we found everything, she hugged me close. “Call me if you need anything. And thanks again for today.”
She wrestled Felix out the door, and I dropped onto the couch, ready to go to bed. And my kids looked like they were almost tired enough to nod off as well, giving me hope that they’d go to sleep for once.
There was a knock on the door, and I reluctantly got up again.
“Did you forget something?” I asked and opened the door, expecting Malena.
But instead of my best friend, it was my ex standing in front of me. He looked like he hadn’t eaten in a while, his face looking gaunt, his hair greasy and longer than I’d ever seen it.
“Jim.”
“Sugar,” he greeted me with the nickname he knew I despised. “Can I come in?”
“Can you come in?” I sputtered. “Are you insane?”
He looked behind him and then squeezed past me before I could stop him.
“Get out,” I said, finally finding my voice.
“I came to see my kids,” he said, already walking into the living room.
I slammed the door and sprinted after him. But my legs were too short, and when I made it to the living room, he was already talking to the kids.
They both stared at him, trying to figure out who he was. They were too young to remember a dad who barely ever showed up.
“Good to see you, kids,” Jim said and saluted them.
He’d never been great with them, and they never asked for him. I always thought kids that young would love their parents no matter what. But Jim proved that if you were a big enough barnacle, you could scare off even the most devoted of children.
“It’s bedtime,” I sang, pushing down my discomfort and concentrating on getting the kids away from him. “Who wants to read a book?”
They grumbled when I turned their show off, but they both loved reading, so after a few more complaints, they followed me to their bedroom.
We sat on Luca’s bed and read two books before I declared bedtime.
When they were both settled, I took a deep breath and got ready for battle.
Jim was sitting on a bar stool, drinking
