Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 137131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
My eyes narrow like a hawk.
“Did you miss the part where you’re grounded? Until further notice?” I fold my arms. “You’re barely through day one.”
“Yeah, but that was for fun stuff, I thought? This is Uncle Pat and Arlo. Aunt Lemmy’s cool with it too, obviously.”
There’s no way I’ll refuse him and he knows it, especially knowing how good he is with little Arlo. I still can’t believe my idiot younger brother skipped the whole infant part and wound up with an instant first grader.
I don’t want Colt thinking this shit will be easy, though.
“And Uncle Pat asked you today?”
“Yeah.” Colt holds up his phone to show me the text. “See, Dad?”
Fucking Patton, bypassing me like the insubordinate prick he is. I know Colt loves being treated like an adult, but last night proved he’s far from it.
“I see.” I lean back in my chair and watch him. “Go shower and I’ll think about it. No promises.”
It’s the best I can do.
He speedwalks away, almost at a skip, and I sink back down on the sofa.
No one ever tells you how difficult being a single dad is when it comes to handing out discipline.
Or, hell, being any kind of dad, I guess.
The surprise family aged Pat about ten years, almost overnight.
It also made him talk relentlessly about Arlo. Some days I’m not sure he remembers what making money is.
He flips back and forth from moaning over how worried he is every time the kid gets a cold to singing Salem’s praises. He’s so in love with his wife it makes my stomach churn.
Only Dex triggers a worse gag reflex with Junie.
Of course, Patton’s only getting started with fatherhood. He’s in the easy stage.
Later on, you have to balance your son becoming a man and navigating the world with making choices you wouldn’t agree with. That makes dealing with an unexpected stomach bug he passes on to you or a nine o’clock rush to the drugstore for supplies to finish some project he just remembered easy as pie.
How to be a parent, how to be approachable, that’s what they never tell you. I’m still wrestling with how to be a human shepherd.
How do I make sure Colt turns into the best young man he can possibly be?
I spend more time on that than anything.
And I know it’s me, myself, and I making the decisions.
Just because that’s normal doesn’t mean it’s fucking easy. Sometimes when I’m idling after a few drinks, I wonder what it would’ve been like with a woman in the mix, a proper mother to share the responsibility.
Then I remember Rina cut herself out of our lives.
I remember why I was happy as hell to say good riddance.
Snarling, I drag a hand over my face, stretching my skin.
I love who Colton is now.
I love the bright, innocent kid who still grins at me after he’s solved some math problem that looks like Coptic Greek.
Yet I also get this dread, this evil sense he’s slipping away, off to the no man’s land of adolescence where wolves prowl, waiting to chew up the smartest, kindest kids.
He’s making decisions like sneaking away to fucking Solitude to play with literal fire, instead of helping his buddy Evans with chemistry like he was supposed to.
What do I do with that when there’s no playbook?
I have to write new rules on the fly.
“Dad? Can I go now?” Colt swings in front of me, freshly showered and changed into a pair of jeans and a Breaking Bad shirt that sticks to his wet body. His hair sticks up in spikes.
“On one condition.” I hold up a finger. “You promise to check in, and you do it religiously. If you step one foot outside Uncle Pat’s place, or I find out you had Evans or whoever over, you’ll be grounded until you’re old enough to drive. I’m not playing, you hear?”
“Okay, okay! Jeez.” He rolls his eyes, but I’m still waiting. “Yes, Dad. Got it. Read you loud and clear.”
“Good. C’mon then, little man.” I haul myself up off the sofa, but as I’m about to leave to drive him over, I check my phone and see I’ve missed a call.
From Rina.
Fucking Rina.
My ex-wife. Colt’s joke of a mother. A ghost I’ve barely thought about in years.
She usually never gets in touch outside Christmas except during her vacations, one of the few times her guilt starts eating her bad enough to give a shit about Colt.
“Hey, Dad?” Colt hovers by the door, looking like he’s going to fall through it as he glances back at me. “You coming or…?”
“On my way.” I swipe the missed call notification away and follow him to the garage.
I do my best to banish Rina from my mind, but she keeps creeping back in.
What the hell could she want?
I can deal with her later.