[Featured on @adultfiction, @NA, @teenfiction, @Contemporarylit]
"He takes a step closer to me, close enough that I can feel the warmth radiating off his body as my heart races. "Just say no if you want me to stop," he mumbles in a husky voice, as h...
"Daddy!" Abigail says, running up to me and into my arms as soon as I get out of my car.
Tammy is at her front door, leaning against the doorway. She still lives in the same house she did when I met her all those years ago. It looks a lot different now though. Tattered brick walls, creaky front steps, and white paint that's chipped enough to see the layer of blue paint that was once painted underneath. I pay her more than enough for childcare, I don't know why she hasn't used any of it to fix up the house.
"Hi princess," I say, kissing her forehead, "how was your week with mom?" I give a slight nod to Tammy that she returns before going back into her house.
"It was good, mom got me a dog!" she says excitedly. She takes out her phone and shows me a picture, it's a brown Pomeranian. Abigail has been asking me for one for years, but I've always had to say no because of my dog allergy. I guess Tammy must've given in to her persistence. "I named him Teddy."
"That's adorable Abby," I chuckle. We get into the car and I start driving towards her favorite café with the specialty waffles, our usual Saturday lunch spot. "By the way, I'll be picking you up from school everyday next week instead of my assistant, my meetings all got pushed early so I should be off earlier."
I look in the rearview mirror at Abigail's big smile. She wasn't very happy when I moved up in my Dad's company a couple years ago. I became too busy to pick her up from school most days, then having to spend an hour with my parents before I could bring her home. My assistant Janet has never complained about picking up Abigail for me, but Abigail never seemed like a big fan of hers. I never really understood why. "Ok Daddy!"
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It's a cozy little local café in a quiet neighborhood. The walls are painted a pale yellow, with bright white trimming. The chairs are rose gold chrome, with plush off-white cushions, tucked under pale wooden tables lined with lacey tablecloths. My sister used to love coming here with our mom when we were kids, she actually recommended it for Abigail and I.
Two plates of waffles are put down in front of us. Mine has various fruits with whipped cream and a strawberry drizzle. Abigail's has three different flavors of ice cream, chocolate sauce, strawberries, Nutella, and whipped cream. I make sure she always eats balanced meals with plenty of fruits and vegetables, but Saturdays have always been 'special' days after I pick her up from Tammy's. I like to start our week together on a positive note.
"So how has school been honey?" I ask her. I know it's a cliché question for parents, but I do really care about her education. My parents always cared about mine, I probably wouldn't have gotten my degree if it weren't for their support.
She takes a moment before answering to swallow her giant mouthful of waffle. "It's good. We're getting a student teacher or something next week. I hope they're cooler than Mrs. Able," she rolls her eyes.
I frown a bit. "What's wrong with Mrs. Able?" I've been so busy since the beginning of September I haven't even met her teacher yet. It makes me feel like I have a heavy cloud of guilt following me around. I promised myself I would try to be more involved with her and her schooling this year - so far, not a great start.
"She's ok but just kind of boring. She tells us so many stories from when she was a kid," she groans, "and we don't really care."
I laugh a bit. "Well honey it's good to learn about societal development. It helps with introspection and critical thinking." Although, I can relate to really hating classes with similar teachers during my time in school.
She furrows her brows. "I don't know what those words mean."
I chuckle. She's so mature for her age, I forget she's still a child sometimes. "It just means it's important to learn about history."
She shrugs. "Alright Daddy." It doesn't look like she believes me, but I guess I expected as much.
"Well, has anything positive happened?" I ask.
"Yeah! We're putting on a play, it's gonna be Beauty and the Beast." She bounces a little in her seat, I don't know whether it's the excitement for the play, or all the sugar coursing through her veins.
Kind of a weird choice. From what I remember, Beauty and the Beast just seemed like an entire movie about a girl with a terrible case of Stockholm syndrome. Probably not something I should mention to my seven year old daughter though.
"Oh that sounds fun," I say, "which part are you auditioning for?" Though I can already guess.
"Belle," she smiles, "Mom says she's sure I'll get it, she says I have her acting talent in my blood."
I try not to grimace. Tammy did two movies, both flopped, and some tv appearances no one remembers her from. I guess she had enough talent to get invited to the event where we met, but still, 'The Doctor and the Lion 1 and 2' weren't exactly cinematic masterpieces.
"I...see," I say awkwardly, "well, the both of us will be there to watch the play, no matter what part you get." I don't want to set her up for disappointment, just in case.
"Thanks Daddy," she smiles her adorable smile. She definitely has me wrapped around her finger. I can't help it, she's my perfect little princess.
