“Not so much a snob as I am not a fan of grape jelly.”
“Well, you’re in luck then,” she replies and hands me half the sandwich. I take the half she’s offering me and hand her a bottle of water. She opens the bag of potato chips and places them in between us. Brooklyn dives in with both hands, and I’m pretty sure she’s left half her sandwich smeared all over the bag of chips.
Once lunch is finished - and yes I’m still starving - we head back over to the swings. Brooklyn is in heaven on the swings, and Avery and I have taken turns over the last hour pushing her. Avery must notice her daughter’s eyes getting heavy. “I think its nap time.”
“No nap! No nap,” she exclaims.
“Ah, come on, Bean. It’s time for my nap, too. Let’s head home and lay down for a bit,” I say as I pull her from her swing.
Avery starts gathering up the remains of our picnic and dumps all the trash in the trashcan. We load up the stuff we’re keeping and head back towards their house. Brooklyn is perched back up on my shoulders again, talking a mile a minute about the birds and butterflies and kids she played with at the park. Avery’s pushing the stroller behind us and remains quiet, appearing to be lost in her own thoughts.
We get back to their house and park the stroller around back by the small garage. Her home phone is ringing as we slip in the back door. She answers it quickly before the caller can hang up, sounding genuinely happy to hear whoever the caller is on the other end. I walk back towards the back of the house to Brooklyn’s bedroom. It’s a pretty small house. An older 2 bedroom, 1 bath home with an eat-in kitchen and living room. Just right for Avery and Brooklyn. It’s probably pretty affordable too which I’m sure is part of the attraction Avery has for the house as a single mother. I know that when she got pregnant and Drake booted her from their apartment she had just moved into, she moved back home with her parents where she stayed for awhile after Brooklyn was born. Jake helped secure this place for her and his niece. He’s not that far from her, and I’m practically right around the corner about three blocks away.
I help Brooklyn into the bathroom to clean up the remains of her PB & J sandwich face. After I get her cleaned up, she tells me she has to potty. ‘Well, shit,’ I mumble quietly to myself as I rub the back of my neck. Um…now what do I do? I’ve never changed a diaper before. Does she wear a diaper? Hell, I’ve definitely never helped a toddler use the restroom. But without me even needing to help her, she pulls her pants down and sits on the potty chair across from the toilet. I look away because it feels like I’m violating something here. I feel the urge to whistle so that I don’t have to listen to her go to the bathroom. When she’s done, I hand her a little wad of toilet paper, all while keeping my back to her. She gives me a happy and enthusiastic, “all done,” and I help her get her pants up straight without really looking down or making eye contact. She places her little hand inside of mine and pulls me towards her bedroom.
Her room looks like a damn toy store exploded. It’s not messy by any means, but there is at least one of everything in this room. Pink and purple everywhere. I feel like I should leave my balls at the door just to step foot in here.
She heads straight to the bookshelf and grabs a worn book from the shelf. She walks over to me, hands it over, and climbs into her little bed with Miss Sparkles. Okay, so I’m gonna read a story apparently.
I sit on the floor next to her bed and open up “Do Princesses Really Kiss Frogs?” I glance at the little blond lying on her bed, watching me with her curious blue eyes and waiting for me to start.
“Daddy, what do princesses wear on a hike? As long as it’s sensible, they wear what they like,” I start. I glance back down and see her watching me intently. I continue on with the next page and the next. Finally, I read the last page, “Oh Daddy, look at the view! There’s something about it that reminds me of you!” I look back at Brooklyn and see she’s sound asleep. I can’t help but watch her little chest rise and fall, her even breathing so content in sleep.
I look up at the doorway and notice Avery for the first time. “I usually get the ‘Why don’t I have a daddy’ question when I read that.”
I lean over and kiss Brooklyn’s sleeping face and get up off the floor. After returning the book to the bookshelf, I head out into the hall as Avery closes the door behind us. “Well, I’m honestly glad she didn’t ask me that. I would have had no clue what to say.”
She shrugs her head and said, “I just tell her that someday she will have the best daddy in the world. Until then, she gets to spend all her time with me.” She’s smiling again, but not the happy, full of life smile I love to see. This one’s a little sad.