Daddy’s Sweet Little by Scott Wylder

Chapter Four

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Marcus

I didn’t want to tell Art, of course, but I was right on the verge of giving up on the barbecues and giving up on the club. It was getting too hard to keep going there, knowing I didn’t have anyone, and seeing how happy everyone else was. Of course, there was also the fact that my thoughts pretty much remained firmly fixed on one girl in particular. A girl who probably wouldn’t understand what could draw a man to the Daddy lifestyle, and who would probably think I was some kind of pervert…

The thoughts crossed my mind, but I still said into the phone, “Sure. We’re on for tomorrow. I’m assuming Kendra’s already got the chocolates worked out?” It was odd for him to call me to confirm my attendance, so I assumed he wanted to make sure Kendra got the candy. Daddy’s Candy was always there at these get-togethers.

“Yes. It’s already here. John Michael got an elk on his trip into Washington, so he’s bringing elk steaks to the barbecue.”

I laughed. “We might want to have some chicken tenders ready for the girls.”

“Way ahead of you.”

We hung up. Again I wondered why he had thought it necessary to call me. I imagined my attempts to hide how draining the playdates were for me hadn’t been that effective for some time now. Everyone was gone and I found myself disappointed as I closed my office. Nina had worked late a few times over the past week and I’d kind of hoped that when I got out of my office she’d still be there, just stocking or rearranging and looking adorable. I had to deal with this silly crush. It had to be bordering on obsession by now.

I woke up, got dressed, and got into my car, after a night filled with thoughts of Nina – like the last sixteen or seventeen nights. I picked up a big baking tray of Georgia’s famous potato casserole and headed to Art’s place. I always got there an hour ahead of the other guests so I could help him set up and so we could enjoy our traditional pre-barbecue cocktail. We’d been involved in the routine for something in the neighborhood of ten years, so I wasn’t looking forward to putting an end to it all. I had to though, as I already knew I’d spend the night that followed the party tossing and turning and feeling lonely.

I got there and Kendra came up giggling. She was always different when she was home on playdate days. She was like a little kid.

“Daddy’s in the den!” she said brightly. She took the casserole from me and practically skipped away. She was wearing a princess dress, complete with a tiara, and – again – jealousy of their relationship came to me unbidden. I shook it off and headed to the den.

Art was just putting a stalk of celery into my bloody Mary as I stepped in.

“John Michael is bringing the elk, so we’re ready to go,” he said. “We don’t have to marinate or anything. He’s bringing vegetable kebabs, too. We have nothing to do. Might even make it a two-cocktail morning.”

I laughed, but then I decided it was time to broach the subject.

“I’ve gotta be honest with you, Arthur.” I could have said anything using his full name and he would have known I was about to enter a serious topic. “It’s getting really hard for me to be here on Tuesdays. I just…”

“Do you miss Taylor?”

“No, not really. Not at all. I miss having someone, but not her specifically. We both knew early on we weren’t forever for each other but that didn’t make it any easier to let the relationship just end.”

He nodded. “I get it. Well, I’ll tell you what. If you feel the same way after today, just let Tuesdays go. Nobody wants you hurting.”

I didn’t expect him to be so understanding. It was kind of strange to realize that all of my prepared arguments no longer had a purpose. I mumbled thanks and took a sip of the drink. All of a sudden, I realized I was going to miss these times. Whether or not I had a little girl to love, the people here were like me. They understood the way I felt, the way I thought, and the way I loved. Tuesdays were the only days I could be myself, completely.

I was certain, though, that the pain would continue to be greater than the comfort that the sense of inclusion and understanding brought me. Sure, everyone here thought like me and loved like me, but they loved the partners they actually had, whereas I had nobody and a bad track record of false starts.

“Of course,” Arthur said.

“And the other shoe drops,” I said with a smile. “I thought you let me off the hook a little easily.”

“No,” he said. “No hook. I was just gonna say there’s a new Little in town, so maybe you might feel differently after the barbecue.”

“She’ll be here?”

He nodded and I didn’t speak for a moment.

“Well,” I said. “I promised you I’d keep an open mind about these things, but I don’t think there’s anyone I could be attracted to enough that I’d be willing to risk screwing things up again.”

Usually, he tried to convince me when I said stuff like that. This time he just smiled. “An open mind is all I want from you.” He lifted his drink and said, “To open minds!”

I tapped my glass to his and said, “To open minds, then.” I took a sip and realized, as I did, that I had no idea how to have an open mind about it at all. I felt like the doors to a relationship had already been shut for me. Daddy’s Candy shop might as well be renamed something like Lonely Sugar or Broken Chocolate.

“Seriously,” Arthur said. “Promise me.”

I nodded, but as much as I wanted it to be the God’s honest truth, I didn’t for the life of me believe there was anything left in me to be open-minded about.