Paul
I look out at the audience through the curtain on the stage.
“She here yet?” Matt asks from over my left shoulder. He sets his chin on it and looks out, his face really close to mine.
“Get the f*ck off my shoulder,” I grouse.
He steps back. “I guess that’s a no,” he says. “She told you she was coming, right?”
I nod. “For Hayley, though. Not for me. Because I made her feel guilty.”
“Hey, whatever works,” he says. He grins at me.
“F*ck you,” I say.
Hayley runs up to me from across the room and tugs on my pant leg. She holds out her hair bow. “My bow fell out.”
“Where’s your mother?” I ask.
She points toward the audience, and I see that Kelly is sitting with her fiancé. She looks anxiously toward the stage, her foot tapping.
I take the hair bow and fix Hayley’s hair, clipping it into place. I am a dad, but dads can fix hair. I just wanted her to find her mother so that I could keep looking for Friday. But I quickly realize how selfish that is and do what needs to be done. I’ve been fixing Hayley’s hair since she was a baby, and I still do it now, particularly when something goes wrong. F*ck gender stereotypes. Dads rock.
I know I give Matt a hard time about turning in his man card, but the true definition of manhood is doing what needs to be done when it needs to be done. It doesn’t matter if it’s fixing hair, changing the oil in the car, or washing dishes. If it needs to be done, it gets done. That’s manhood. It’s instilling in our daughters that dads can and will do anything that needs to be accomplished.
I want to be the be-all and end-all when it comes to my daughter. I want to be the man that every other man has to look up to. I will treat her like a princess because if I don’t, she might go out and latch on to the first man who does. So yeah, I open car doors and I take her on dates and I buy her flowers for no reason. Because I want her to know she’s worthy of all of those things. And I fix hair.
I pop her on the bottom, and she scowls at me before she smiles and runs back over to her friends. They’re all dressed in pink tights, tutus, and pink leotards. They have pink hair bows, and it’s like a pink elephant threw up all over the room. Except it’s really busy pink. Really busy. They’re so excited that they’re spinning around the room. Pink in motion.
I hear the dance teacher get up to start her first speech. Matt looks at me and wrangles his two girls—they’re also dressed in pink and performing tonight—into the groups where they’re supposed to be. I shift the edge of the curtain and look out. Then I see her, and my heart f*cking stops.
Friday is sitting with Reagan and Emily. And next to her is Henry. On her other side is… Who is that? Oh my f*cking God. That’s Jacob. My heart soars, and I feel almost giddy. She brought her son. She brought Jacob. That must mean that things are going well.
“Is that him?” Matt asks from right beside my shoulder. His chin is almost resting on my shirt, and I don’t try to move him away.
“You know?” I ask.
He nods. “I’ve always known.”
“What?” The breath that I was holding escapes me in a rush.
“Friday and I used to spend a lot of time alone together in the shop.” He shrugs. “We talked.”
“About that?” I can’t believe she told him.
“When Pete did her tattoo,” he says. He looks at me sheepishly. “We both knew. We didn’t and still don’t know details, but we knew she had a kid.”
“Why the f*ck didn’t you tell me?” I’m irked. I can’t help it.
He shrugs. “Wasn’t my story to tell.”
I wish someone had f*cking told me.
“You were so busy trying to get into her pants that you didn’t really get to know her. Not the real her.”
“That’s not true,” I sputter.
“Yes, it is.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Yes. It. Is.” He glares at me. “You saw the glam girl that everyone else sees.”
“There’s so much more to her than just that.”
“You were f*cking Kelly, so you didn’t really have room for anyone else.”
He’s right. I scrub a hand down my face. He’s so right. “Okay,” I say.
“He’s cute,” Matt says. He nods toward the audience. “Her son. He looks like her.”
“He’s a lot like her. In a lot of ways.”
“Is he the reason she stopped talking to you?” Matt asks.
“Sort of.” I scratch my head.
“You think she’ll talk to you today?”
“I’m not going to give her a choice.”
He squeezes my shoulder. “Good.” He looks at me for a minute, blinking those blue eyes at me. “Anything worth having is worth fighting for.”
I fake a punch to his shoulder. “I’m coming out swinging,” I say.
He grins.
The music starts, and the curtain opens. Matt and I step back and out of the way. Pete, Sam, and Logan are helping, too. We’re all waiting on the stage so we can move props around between sets. Seth is in charge of the music, and he’s standing there with headphones on and his sound mixer in front of him.
Matt watches the dancing closely because Mellie is in the first number. She dances, but it’s more like jerky running around than dancing.
“I think my kid is the best one out there,” he says. He’s smiling so broadly that I can see every tooth in his mouth.
“Until one of your other ones gets out there. Then that one will be the best.” I chuck his shoulder.
“Damn straight,” he says.
Matt’s the best dad I’ve ever seen. So much better than ours ever was. Ours couldn’t even tell Pete and Sam apart most days.
“Where’d you learn to be such a great dad?” I ask.
His gaze jerks to meet mine, and he doesn’t look away. “From watching you, dumbass.”