“That’s a quarter in the swear jar, Dad,” Kelsey said as she perched up to the kitchen counter.
“A swear jar?” Selma asked.
“Yeah, Daddy cusses—”
“A lot,” Sophie finished her sister’s sentence.
“I’m not that bad,” Jake defended himself as he tossed the ruined meal in the garbage can.
Kelsey rolled her eyes and shook her head.
Sophie picked up a mason jar that sat on the counter and shook it. From the sound of the change ringing inside, the girls had quite the college fund going.
Selma took the jar from Sophie’s hand and glanced at the writing on the homemade wrapper. Dad’s F-Bombs = $1.00, everything else .25 cents. After glancing inside the jar and noted several green bills in the mix, Selma caught her lower lip in her teeth to keep from laughing out loud. Priceless!
“And that’s only been a week.”
“Yeah, and we’re not here all the time,” Kelsey told her. “He says he puts money in when we’re not here, but I don’t think he does.”
“Hey!” Jake scolded. “He’s right here…and I do.”
Sophie sat taller and called him out. “Then why doesn’t your girlfriend know about the jar, Dad?”
Selma cocked her head to the side and waited to see what bullshit was going to spew from his lips now. “Yeah, why doesn’t your girlfriend know about it?” she asked.
His blue eyes found hers, and she noticed a slight smile on his lips. “Because I don’t want to scare my girlfriend off by showing her all my faults.”
The girls seemed to buy his answer while the two of them stared at each other.
Selma pushed away from the counter and grabbed the spatula from his hand. “I already know about your inability to cook.”
“I’m not that bad.”
Selma glanced into the waste container. “Oh, yeah? What’s that supposed to be?”
“It’s a grilled cheese sandwich.”
“His specialty,” Kelsey boasted.
“Just not today, eh?”
“If I didn’t have to stop to answer the door, it would have been fine.”
Somehow, she doubted that. “Ah, huh.”
“It would.”
“Are you guys fighting?” Kelsey asked. “Mom says Dad will never get married again because he only knows how to fight and not communicate.”
“We’re not fighting!” Jake twisted around and grabbed two more pieces of bread, mumbling under his breath. “Damn woman.”
“That’s another quarter, Dad.” Sophie’s ears were tuned into her dad’s mouth.
“It’s okay, Daddy,” Kelsey said. “John can’t cook either.”
Something had gotten up Jake’s ass, and Selma didn’t have the heart to expose it with the girls in the room. She moved to his side and helped him butter the bread to cook another sandwich. “Who’s John?” she asked, making conversation.
“That’s Mom’s fiancé.”
Jake’s hand hesitated as he grabbed the cheese.
So that’s the problem. Jake’s ex is moving on. That explains her elevation to girlfriend status.
“Yeah, they just got engaged last week. Kelsey and I get to be in the wedding.”
“I’ll bet that will be fun.” Selma removed the knife from Jake’s hand and let her hand linger on his.
He pulled away after a moment and turned to grab a beer from the frig. “Want one?” he asked.
“No, I’m good.”
Without too much effort, Selma had the sandwiches on plates, cut up a lone apple from the fruit bowl, and poured them milk that had miraculously appeared in the fridge since the day before. The girls chatted while Jake brooded. They wanted to catch Selma up on their lives in the time it took to eat one meal. Kudos to them, Selma knew a heck of a lot more than before she walked in the door.
Jake took them to the park every Saturday he had them. Sometimes to play baseball, sometimes to play basketball. Every once in a while, Sophie would convince him to go ice skating. Listening to Jake’s escapades on a bladed boot was worth the drive over.
Jake smiled. Once the conversations swayed from his ex, Kelsey crawled into his lap and the man lit up like a tree at Christmas. He clearly adored his children…and they doted on him.
The stick that had been so firmly up his butt wasn’t there when he was with his kids.
It made Selma sad to know he couldn’t find peace when they weren’t around.
As the hour grew late, he shooed the kids off to brush their teeth and get ready for bed.
Selma cleaned up the kitchen…or in this case, tossed the paper plates in the trash and cleaned the one pan. One of the girls ran around the corner, dressed in a nightgown. “Good night, Selma.” Her small arms wrapped around Selma’s waist, and she hugged her back.
“G’night…” Oh, damn, now that the girls had changed clothes, she couldn’t tell which one she was.
“Kelsey.”
“G’night, Kelsey.” The girl let go and disappeared down the hall.
“They’re adorable,” she told Jake once he made it back to the living room.
He picked up a forgotten sweater on the floor and parked his butt in his chair.
“They’re good kids,” he said on a heavy sigh.
She could read his sigh and the language his body amplified as he took his time folding the small sweater.
“How often do they stay over?”
“Every other weekend…I get a mid-week visit and a month in the summer.” From his tone, it wasn’t enough.
“Doesn’t seem fair…”
“It’s best for them. Lindsey, my ex, lives in a good school district. The girls need stability. My job doesn’t always offer that.”
Still not fair. “They need their dad.”
He stopped fiddling with the sweater and stared at the wall. “Looks like they’re getting another one of those.”
Wow! This was not the snarky man she’d grown to enjoy tossing barbs with.
“Back up the boat. This John guy might be the new squeeze, but these girls get one dad. Seems to me even they know that.”
He shrugged, not agreeing, not disagreeing.
She changed the subject. “Do you really make ’em play ball all the time?”
“They like it.”
The spark in his words made her continue her line of questioning. “Next you’ll take them to target practice.”