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welcome2theneighborhood · 6 years

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A Dad’s Life

Chapter 2: Vanilla

Dean Vásquez needs a new job, and he needs one quick!

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“So what are you doing for Christmas?”

Robert rolled his eyes so hard I wondered whether he could be watching the road like that. I was still getting used to his aversion to small talk. Given the tightness in his brow, I was surprised he responded at all. “Gonna go down to Brooklyn and see if Val doesn’t kick me to the curb.”

I couldn’t help but smile a little. Honestly, I was proud of him. He was really starting to make amends with his daughter. It was obviously really hard work -there was no quick fix for years of estrangement, no easy forgiveness for a bad childhood- but that was only more admirable. He was trying when he could more easily give up. I didn’t say anything, though. He wouldn’t want me to comment. I just hoped he knew I was happy for both of them.

“Well? What about you?”

“Amanda’s coming home. She and her girlfriend and her girlfriend’s son will be staying with us until they go back to school.”

“Lots of company.”

“Yeah. I’m happy to have them over.” Basically all my spending money in those 4 months 7 days 5 hours 22 minutes on presents for Amanda.

I felt a deep pit in my stomach, a hollowness I hadn’t felt since I left Amanda in Chicago. It hit me that I didn’t currently have a job, only an interview scheduled. I’d need to be well prepared for that, and for the possibilty that it won’t go well and I’ll be out of a job entirely. But I didn’t want to think about that on an otherwise happy day. I just set a reminder to make a few phone calls next week -no one was going to answer me outside of business hours, anyway.

Robert jerked us into the cul-de-sac, and I took a moment to admire the festive atmosphere of our little community. Four of the houses were brightly decorated for Christmas, a rainbow of lights and cardboard cutouts of classic characters and Joseph’s endearingly gaudy nativity set. But the Christiansen Christmas set went beyond symbols of the Lord and Savior. “I like the way the lights look on the house,” Joseph explained, stringing them up in late November.

Brian’s decorations were probably the second most extravagent, and it made me bristle. Our own house paled in comparison, despite my best efforts. Mat’s house was decorated, but not lit up in the Sellas’ absence. Hugo’s house was minimally decorated and done in such a way that a rebellious teenager couldn’t sabotage. I remembered what Mat had said at that first barbecue -I, too, do not envy Hugo.

Damien’s gothic abode was frankly adorable with twinkling little lights glittering on the blackness of the house.

Smashley was taking the girls for Christmas because Craig was Jewish and Christmas really wasn’t anything to him, so it made sense. His house wasn’t decorated but there were a couple of snowmen in the yard. Robert, unsurprisingly, hadn’t decorated for Christmas, though he had admitted at some point that Christmas was his favorite holiday. And I was glad he was taking the opportunity for a family-centric holiday to spend time with Val.

Robert pulled into his driveway and hopped out before I had the chance to thank him again. Rather than going inside, he started walking into town, clearly not dressed for the weather but knowing full well he’d be spending half the night at Jim and Kim’s anyway. Mary would be waiting for him there.

I didn’t head right home myself, knowing there wasn’t enough time to cook before Amanda and Morgan and Morgan’s-son-that-I-forgot-the-name-of arrived. Amanda would probably appreciate the opportunity for all of us to cook together to celebrate her return. I’d thought about throwing a welcome home party for her and inviting everyone, but then Joseph organized a Christmas Eve party and I didn’t have it in me for that many festivities in one week. We’d settle for lots of hugs and destroyng the kitchen when she got home.

I headed to Mat’s house. I was fern-sitting while he was away. The switch to his outside decorations were right next to his front door, and I flicked them on on the way out. I stepped off his porch to admire what was aboslutely my own handiwork because I was the one who flipped the switch… Okay, it was partially my work, though, at least.

I got home and queued up a couple of episodes of LHPIRGT. They had finally put it on Netflix, which had prompted me to finally get Netflix. I’d spent all last night cleaning up and getting the house ready for my daughter and guests. I did a little last minute spot-cleaning, though, and before I knew it there were headlights in the driveway.

I jumped slightly. The clock on the stove said 6:30, but stove clocks were notorious for being wrong on a whim. If it was kind enough to be right, that meant they were early. I scurried over to the front door and gripped the doorknob, taking a moment to collect myself before making my dramatic greeting.

“Welcome home, Amanda!” I shouted, not checking who it actually was.

“Oh, thank you!” Craig answrered, laughing.

My arms dropped to my side, a small pout coming to my lips. “Dammit, I don’t know if I have another over-the-top welcome in me! You used it all up.” I kissed him and let him in, feigning reluctance. “How was New York?”

“Oh, good. I only stayed a couple of hours but the twins are super excited. Smashley promised them they’d do a lot of fun things while they were there.” He laughed again. “River could take it or leave it.”

I smiled and plopped down on the couch, checking my phone for the time, a little distracted from what he was saying. “How long are they staying?” It was an easy enough question to come up with without needing to be actively invested in the conversation. The pause told me he had caught on, but continued on easily.

“They’re staying for a week. From what I’ve heard they’ve got a lot to fit in to that time.” He laid his head on my shoulder. “You have such pointy shoulders.”

I laughed softly, a little more aware of the present moment but still with Amanda’s pending arrival buzzing in the back of my skull. “And yet you don’t move.” I check the time once more. 6:36. “Twenty-four minutes,” I say definitively, and tuck my phone back in my pocket. “Remember what you promised?”

“Hm?”

“About this week without the girls.”

“Oh. Yeah. That I’m taking that time to relax.” I could feel him tense against me.

“Y’lnow, you’re welcome to stay here. Trust me, if anyone can model effectively doing nothing, it’s me and Amanda.”

“I might have to take you up on that, bro.”

I kissed his head, but his hair tickled my lips. “Amanda and Morgan are almost here.”

“Morgan has a baby, right?”

“Yeah, but for the life of me I can’t remember his name. They’re gonna get here and I’m just gonna have to hope they bring up his name right away because it’ll just be embarrassing to admit I don’t remember.”

“Or I could just ask.”

I paused, something clicking. “Dammit.”

He laughed and hopped up. “Am I sticking around?”

I nodded, yawning and stretching. “Stay the night?”

Craig bent down, hands coming down on either side of my hips, palms flat on the cushions. He kissed me softly. “I’m just gonna go grab some pajamas.”

“You don’t have to.” I didn’t want him to leave, nor did I want him to wear pajamas to bed. But my room was drafty as hell, and as good as those jeans looked on him, they wouldn’t be comfortable to sleep in. “Okay, go on.” I checked the time again. “Twenty minutes. You’ll need to be back for their arrival. Someone will need to pump me up for another dramatic greeting, and it’s only fair.”

He patted my knee and headed back out into the cold. And, however briefly, I was left alone with my thoughts.

I don’t have a job. If that interview doesn’t go well then I’ll be left unemployed. Mortgage, car insurance, health insurance, Amanda’s college expenses… I need to make sure my daughter can get through college without having to worry about money. I promised we would make it work. Maybe this is an opportunity. Maybe it’s not too late to find a job that I’m good at and pays a lot and that I actually enjoy. God damn it I hate paperwork. I have lots of friends. Maybe they can help me find a new job. But do I really want to have to rely on someone else to give me a job? What kind of lesson would that be teaching Amanda?

“Dean?”

My thoughts had gone on like that for some time. I looked up to find Craig crouched in front of me, a folded up pair of pajama pants sandwiched between his hand and knee. I could feel small vibrations in my skin. Craig’s eyes were focused with worry.

“Are you alright, bro?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I answered without thinking.

Rightfully, he didn’t seem to believe me. He smiled, and tried to cheer me up. “Amanda should be here soon. You haven’t seen her since Auguest.”

I nodded, smiling as the truth of it sunk in. 6:58. Craig sat down next to me and this time I laid my head on his shoulder.

Seven o’clock came and went. My chest tighetened more and more with every minute that passed, and at 7:30 I decided I needed to call her. I tried pacing around while I waited for an answer, but Craig pulled me back down, rubbing my arm.

Two rings.

Three.

Finally, someone picked up.

“Hey, Pops!”

Relief washed over me. “Amanda. Are you alright? You almost home?”

“Oh, yeah, we’re fine. We’re, um…” There was some incoherent mumbling. “We’re about three hours away.”

My heart sank, but not as deeply as before. “Why, what happened? Weren’t you supposed to be here at seven?”

There was a pause, and during that pause I realized how agitated I sounded. But she was answering before I could apologize for my tone. “Morgan’s kid was up really late last night, so we needed to let him sleep a little longer. I meant to call to let you know but things just… happened. And I just forgot. Sorry.”

I stammered out an apology. “No, no, I’m sorry. It’s fine. I can’t wait to see you. I’ll see you when you get here, okay?”

“Okay. Love you, Pops.”

“I love you too, Panda.”

I waited for her to hang up and sunk back into the couch and my boyfriend. “They’re still three hours away.”

I felt Craig nod against the top of my head, one hand rubbing my arm still. He was silent for a moment, but then stood up, slowly, giving me the chance to move off of him rather than fall onto the seat. “Come on, get your coat on.”

“Huh? Where are we going?”

“Hungry?”

My stomach growled as if to speak over me. “Uh, yeah, kind of.”

He was already getting his own coat on. “We’re going out. To eat. Come on.”

I stood and got my coat on.

We didn’t end up anywhere too fancy. It was probably a step up from the nearest drive-thru. But damn, I could get pizza and ice cream on the same plate. Meatball and vanilla should never be combined but it was exactly what I needed.

Craig had ordered a salad but didn’t really do more than pick at it. “Better?”

I nodded, letting out a slight moan at the deliciousness of the ice cream. He smiled and pushed the lightly oiled lettuce around on his paper plate. “You’re hating this, aren’t you?”

“Hm?”

“The food. You haven’t had a bite of that salad.”

“Oh. No, it’s fine. I’m just not hungry, I guess. I ate a bit in New York.”

I nodded, somewhat hesitant but accepting his response.

When it came time to pay, my leg started shaking. Normally we’d split the bill, or Craig would insist on paying and I’d try to argue for an even split, but tonight I wasn’t so certain I could hold up my end. Which made me feel like shit because he had only gotten a salad that he hadn’t eaten and wasn’t even trying to take home, while I had stuffed myself on pure decadence. I could only watch as Craig tucked his credit card in with the bill and indicated a generous tip. I realized he wasn’t expecting me to try to split it. He didn’t seem to want me to. But I felt like I should’ve tried, at least.

The waitress winked at him and went to ring the bill up. Craig crossed his arms on the table and smiled comfortably at me. “Anything else you want to do while we wait for them?”

I shook my head a little.

“Going home, then?”

I nodded. I thought I might need to be alone tonight to figure things out. But our eyes met and I melted. I didn’t know whether I could get through this without him, but I knew I didn’t want to.

#dream daddy #dreamdaddy #ddadds #dadsona #craig cahn #my stories

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