It was hard to believe the woman in that office was the same girl I used to play Scrabble with, who’d always manage to come up with the most obscure words to beat me. Sometimes I let her win…no, that was a lie. She always won fair and square; I just didn’t like to admit that a little girl could beat me at a game.
But she was smarter than anyone else I’d met, and I met a lot of people. I only wished she’d used her smarts for something other than writing about my personal life.
“Good afternoon, Mayor,” a voice pulled me from my thoughts.
I looked around and found an older woman, a face I recognized. “Well hello there, Mrs. Wilson.” I continued walking, my focus on the door of the day-care.
“I read about you in the paper. That was a real good story. I mean the recent article that seemed to paint you in a more realistic light. I enjoyed it a lot. You’re a good man for taking in those babies, you know.”
“They’re my daughters. I didn’t adopt them off the street or anything.” Mrs. Wilson flinched as if I’d slapped her, and I realized my tone was a bit rough. “Sorry, what I mean is - I’m no hero. Just a father, that’s all.”
“Well, you’re a lot likeyourfather, so I say that makes you a hero. But what do I know?” She shrugged her shoulders and continued walking away before I could argue with her.
I was no damn hero.
Just a man trying to live his life, raise his daughters, and leave my personal life out of the damn limelight. But thanks to Elle’s article, everyone would think they knew me and my little girls.
I pulled open the door to Little Cubs and heard laughter. I’d always loved the sound of children laughing, but never thought I’d be hearing it in my own home. Sure, the girls were too young for laughing, but one day, the halls would be filled with it.
Tabitha, one of the teachers, was on the floor with toddlers all around her. She glanced up and smiled. “One second, Jeremiah. Piper should be right with you.”
Piper was the owner of the day-care and also happened to be one of Elle’s best friends growing up.
Shit, another reason I won’t be able to get Elle out of my damn head.
With Liberty being such a small town it was hard not to be acquainted with people in the same circles.
Like Elle, I remembered when Piper was no taller than some of the little ones surrounding Tabitha. It was weird to think of her all grown up and responsible enough to be watching other people’s kids, but she did a damn fine job of it.
Piper scurried from the back, a smile on her face.
“Hey! That was the quickest work emergency I’ve ever seen.”
“Yes, just a quick meeting, then I had some errands to run.” I frowned when I thought about what ‘business’ I really had to take care of after my run in with Elle in her office.
I cleared my throat.
“How are the girls?”
It had been their first week in day-care, and I was a little stressed about that. I was trying to find a nanny, but so far, none of the people I’d interviewed fit the bill. I’d known Piper forever, and I trusted her, but it was still hard leaving my children for the first time. At least she wasn’t a stranger.
“Oh, they’re angels,” she cooed, her hand over her heart. “And they were just fine, don’t you worry. Want to come back with me? I can help you carry them out?”
I nodded and followed Piper down the hallway to where the infants were kept. It had already been two months since I’d brought them home, and I still couldn’t believe it. I never expected to be a dad at all, much less to twin girls.
“I do hope you’ll reconsider and think about working with us in the future.”
“I appreciate you, Piper. I do. I think you’re highly qualified and run a top-notch day-care, but with everything going on, I’d feel more comfortable with someone watching them from home. I hope you understand.”
She nodded, her smile unphased. “I get it, I do. We’re always here for you. You know that.”
“Thank you.” I didn’t mention how I needed help at home too. One child was hard enough, but two? During feedings and diaper changes, when they were both screaming, it was hard. I was outnumbered and had gained a new respect for single parents.
Piper pulled open the door to the nursery and we stepped inside. Frannie was in the corner changing a baby. She turned her head and smiled when she saw me, immediately gushing, “Oh, your little girls are the sweetest!”
“Thank you.” I was always being told this, but I had no idea how to respond. I wasn’t sure how bad two-month-olds could actually be for any frame of reference. So I just nodded and smiled and said thanks. I hated leaving the girls, but as mayor, it was sometimes unavoidable.
The mere sight of my twin girls melted my cold heart. It was like their presence just melted all the stresses of my day away. They always had that effect on me.