Eight Days a Week (10 page)

I wrinkled my forehead. “Tell them about what?”
 

“About your leaving. I don’t know how to explain it to them.”

I joined her on the floor and pulled her to my side. “I’m not leaving. You guys need an idiot like me.”

“Oh yeah?” she asked, hope in her voice.

“Well, I live with a bunch of people who never had a childhood. And I’m a guy who never grew up. Seems pretty cut and dried to me.”

She laughed and leaned away to look at my face. “Are you sure?”

I knew she wouldn’t understand but, somehow, somewhere along the line, I’d started to see them as family, too. I wanted to fight for this one.

“I’m sure.” I moved her hair off her shoulder. “But I swear to God, Gwen, you lie to me again and I walk.”

She chewed on the inside of her lip. “Okay. Honesty.” She took a deep, trembling breath.
 

“What is it?”

“Keep in mind that I was kind of freaking out back there at the bar.”

“Okay?”

“I was crying, and everyone was there and hugging me and asking me if I was okay. I was just nodding my head at everything, and I don’t think I even realized that I said yes.”

“To what?”

She sighed and shrugged, her eyes fixed on mine. “To a date with Jimmy on Friday night.”

Chapter 9

Sun King

Jimmy.

Chop.

Jimmy.

Chop.

JimmyJimmyJimmyJimmyJimmy.

Chopchopchopchopchopchop.
 

“You killed the cucumber,” Bree said softly from the table.

I looked up. “Huh?” Then I glanced at the cutting board. “No salad tonight, then.”

“We don’t like salad anyway.” She had a book open on the table and looked bored with life. “Are you mad?”

“No.”
 

“It’s not nice to lie.”

I wiped my hands on my pants and walked over to the table to sit down next to her. “Don’t you get tired of being so grown-up, Bree?”

“No.”

“You should go play. Bring a friend over. Have someone spend the night.”

“Why?” Her face was scrunched up in confusion.

“Because it’s
fun.”

She shrugged and looked down.

“Let’s do something fun on Friday night. What do you say?”

Bree narrowed her eyes. “Why are you here with us Friday night?”

I decided honesty was the best way to go. “Because Gwen has a date.”

“What?” Her mouth drooped into a frown, and her eyebrows pulled together. “But . . . you like her. Right?”

So much for keeping things from the kids.
 

“She’s nice,” I said, hoping she’d take it at face value.

“But if she likes another man, will you have to leave?”

Brady shuffled into the kitchen. He looked between me and Bree, his eyes wide.

“Relax. I’m not going anywhere.”

Brady walked over, clung to my leg, and sniffed. “Stay, Dee.”

I pulled him into my lap and lowered my face to look into his eyes. “Promise. I’m not going
anywhere
, you hear me?” I wanted to tell him I wouldn’t leave him alone under the bathroom sink or forget him on the playground. I wanted to assure Bree I would be there when she got home. I would pick her up from ballet class.

But more importantly, I wanted them to do things they wanted to do.

“So what do you think about Friday?” I asked. “I can invite my friend Ian over. We can make pizzas? Watch movies? Your choice.”

“Can you get Gwen to stay home wid us?”

I shook my head. “She made a promise to a guy named Jimmy, and she has to keep her promise.”

Bree slammed her book shut. “Then
we’ll
get her to stay home.”

The kids and I were trying to play a new game in the living room. They’d insisted on Beatles Rock Band, so I went with it, even though I was beyond terrible at it. I kept missing my notes on the guitar—even though I was awesome at it in real life—and Brady could barely keep up on the drums, but Bree was singing her little heart out. She was a lot better than I’d expected. When the song came to an end, I gave her a nudge with my elbow.

“Look how good you were, Bree. You’re kicking my ass.”

She stepped on my foot and pointed at Brady. “No swears, Dee. We don’t say
ass
.”

“Sorry. I’ll work on that.”

“You sounded great,” Gwen called, and we all turned to look at her, standing in the doorway from out of nowhere. I hadn’t even realized how late it was. She’d been pulling overtime at work again.

“Come on, Lennon,” I said. “We have a bass for you.” I turned back around and started scrolling through the song list. Gwen picked up the instrument and looked it over once before pulling the strap around her neck.

“I have no idea what to do,” she said.

“Good. Then we’re all on the same playing field. Except Bree, of course.”

“Bryan loved The Beatles,” Gwen whispered into my ear, and I nodded because I already knew.

“I debated on getting this or one of the newer versions. But Bree said they wanted it.” I turned to quirk a brow at the little girl. “I figured some good old wholesome tunes would be good, since she’s been booty-shaking in her room to some
unseemly
songs.” I leaned into Gwen’s ear and whispered, “There are a ton of songs about blow jobs and threesomes out right now.”

Her mouth dropped open.

“Yeah,” I said. “I can’t believe the shi—
stuff
that’s on the radio these days.”

Her laugh burst from her mouth with such force I thought she’d fall over. “You are such a nerd, Daddy Dee, getting worked up over what Bree is listening to.” She hit me on the shoulder with her plastic guitar.
 

“Laugh now. She’ll have a boyfriend soon, and then what will you do?”

“Boys are morons,” Bree said with a huff.

“Hey!” Gwen said. “Where did you learn that word?”

Bree rolled her eyes. “I
read.”

“Dee? Nudder song?”

Brady was smiling bigger than I’d ever seen. I went over the basics with Gwen of how to play, and then he chose the next song.
 

“Last one and you have to hit the sack,” I said. “We have big plans tomorrow.”

Gwen tilted her head in question. “What’s tomorrow?”

Bree sighed. “Your date.”

I dropped my head in defeat. “Bree. Secrets, remember?”

Brady piped up. “Teachew says secwets is bad.”
 

“They
are
bad,” Gwen assured him. “It’s not a secret, anyway. Mr. Jimmy is coming to pick me up at seven.”

We all looked at each other and nodded.
 

“That should be fun,” I muttered.

I hit play on the screen, and Bree tapped her foot in time to the beat of “Eight Days a Week.” Brady hit every third beat, and Gwen sucked beyond belief.
 

When the song ended, Bree put down the microphone. “Those words were crazy.”

“Give them some slack,” I said. “They’re British.”

“British guys are sexy.” Gwen chuckled.

I cocked my head and looked at Brady. “Hear that, kid? British accents are the bee’s knees. You gotta walk around and say, ‘Oh, ’ello govnah.’ ”
 

Brady scrunched up his nose and laughed. I grinned and picked him up to carry him up the stairs.
 

“Bedtime, munchkin. We’re going to the park after school tomorrow. You need rest.”

When Brady and I reached the top of the stairs, I heard Bree’s little voice from down in the living room.

“He’s awesome, Auntie G. We really love him.”

I had to admit it was mutual.

Chapter 10

All Together Now

On Friday, Brady and I picked Bree up from school and headed to the park. Brady was quiet as usual. He grabbed hold of my hand while we walked around the playground before yanking me toward the statues at the center of the field, and then both kids climbed them while I sat in the sunny grass.

I wanted to ask them about their pasts, but I wasn’t a psychologist or anything. I wasn’t even a dad, and I’d be damned if I was going to call mine to ask for advice. So we spent the remainder of the afternoon making small talk and walking around the park. Brady’s grip on my hand was tight, and Bree stayed close to my side. I smiled. They needed me. And I needed them, too.

“What time is it?” Bree asked.

I glanced at my watch. “Almost six.”

Her eyebrows shot up, and she looked over her shoulder at the car. “We have to go!” She took off at a run for the Sterility Coupe, and Brady let go of my hand and ran after her. So I had to jog after them both. How the hell were children so fast?

Bree flicked her hands around in a frenzy. “Come on, we have to get home.”

I looked at her sideways. “What’s up, Bree?”

Brady giggled and clapped his hands over his mouth. “Penguins.”

“Whatever, bud.” I rolled my eyes and then helped buckle them in.

Ian met us at the house, and he had Tess’ son, Joshua, with him. The boy looked to be about six.
 

I was getting better at guessing ages.

“Big step,” I said with a nod. “How do you have her kid tonight?”

Ian grinned and popped the tab on a soda can. “I’ve been at her house every night this week. I told her you had the kids tonight and that I was coming over. She has a spin class, so she asked me to bring him.”

“Does she still hate me?”

“Well, you’re not on her top ten. I’ll work on her for you.”

I grabbed our bucket of ammunition and we walked out to the front yard while Gwen was busy getting ready upstairs. Brady ran up to me with Joshua in tow—they had black face paint all over their cheeks, and I wondered if it would come off with soap. I mean, I was the one who was going to have to bathe the little marksman.

Yeah, I said
bathe
.

“Dis is fow us?” he asked and pointed to the bucket.

“Yes. But you don’t start until I tell you, okay?”

“Sweet,” Joshua said, his blue eyes lighting up. He shook his shaggy blond hair and rubbed his hands together in anticipation.

The front door opened, and Bree emerged in a black T-shirt and black jeans. “What?” she asked, blushing. “Did you want me to be a princess? I’m Skipper.”

I stifled a smile and covered my mouth. “Of course not.”

“Bree!” yelled a small female voice from down the block. Bree squinted and gave a wave to the little brown-haired girl running across the lawn.

“Who’s that?” I asked.

She rolled her eyes. “Jennifer. She lives down the street. We ride the bus together?”
 

Like . . .
duh
.

“You said to bring a friend,” Bree said. “She’s Private.”