The Mrs. Degree (Accidentally in Love 2)

“I would love it if you called me Dad instead of Jack.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

My heart melts, and I have to wipe my eyes with a napkin. They’re tearing up, and I can barely take it. I’m so happy right now. All this time I’d been worried I ruined both their lives and having to tell her would be traumatizing, but instead, she’s taking it like a champ.

Which makes sense because her father literally is one.

A champ, that is.

He’s got his arm around her chair and kisses the top of her head, the way dads do, already stepping into the role as if he were born for it.

“Wait a minute.” Her fork gets set down again. “Does this mean… I have a dog?”

“A dog?” I furrow my brow, confused. We don’t have a dog.

“Kevin. Is he my dog now?”

“Kevin is absolutely your dog!” Jack announces. “And I’ve been telling him all about you!”

Skipper sits up straighter in her chair, eager for more facts. “Like what? What did you tell him?”

“I told him you were excited to take him for walks and give him treats and that you were going to play with him and be his friend. I told him you were in first grade and you love horses and that your stuffed animals are not toys.”

She soaks this in. “I might let him play with one, though.”

“That would be very nice of you.”

“I like sharing.” Skipper takes a sip of water, and while she’s doing that, Jack catches my eyes over the top of her head.

“I love you,” he whispers to me, his eyes glassy from emotion—the same way mine are.

“I love you, too, Dad,” Skipper cheerily replies, not a care in the world, happy as a clam.

I don’t think now is a good time to drop more news into her little lap, so we let her keep eating. She goes to play shortly after, taking her plate to the sink before going to the backyard to her swing set.

“I think that went rather well.”

We’re side by side doing dishes when there’s a knock on the door, followed by the sound of my brother announcing himself as he rounds the corner into the kitchen. As if he were going to catch Jack and me doing something scandalous—or catch us naked.

“Knock, knock!”

I roll my eyes, putting a pan back into the lower cabinet now that it’s clean. “We’re decent.”

“I saw Jack’s rental in the driveway and thought I’d stop in to say hey.” He holds his hand up. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Jack laughs, putting his hand out for a shake.

“When did you get here? If I’d have known, we could have gone to dinner or something.”

“He got here Friday, but we did bonding things. You know that street carnival in town, the fundraiser for the youth center?”

He nods.

“We did that last night, then carved pumpkins.”

“Saw those on the porch. Yours is obviously the pony pumpkin,” he says to Jack with a grin, stealing a sausage that’s been put on a plate. “How long are you staying?”

“Heading out in a few hours. I have a game tomorrow and a team meeting tonight I won’t be able to miss.”

My brother knows what that’s like; jet-setting around before his games, visiting girlfriends but needing to be back. It wore on him the same way it would surely wear on Jack if we hadn’t committed to moving in together, something I have to tell my brother.

I open my mouth to speak, but we’re interrupted when Skipper comes busting through the back door, hair wild, galloping like a pony, decked out in head to toe purple—as usual.

She immediately goes to Davis, hugging his waist and squeezing.

“Uncle Davis, that’s my dad!”

My brother’s eyes go wide with shock. It was news he already knew but wasn’t expecting to fly out of his niece’s mouth.

“He is! How wonderful!”

“Yeah, he looks just like me,” she tells him, bragging about their similarities. “We have the same hair and eyes, and when we smile, he has the same dimple.” She demonstrates, tilting her head. “Dad, smile.”

Jack smiles and tilts his head.

“Oh yeah, would you look at that.” My brother remains visibly shaken, while I am internally shaken. I hadn’t realized my daughter was aware of the resemblances she and Jack had, down to the dimples in their cheeks. Or their dark hair or the same color eyes.

It just goes to show how observant kids actually are and that they’re not to be underestimated.

I won’t be making that mistake again. Ha!

And like that, she’s gone again, only coming inside to grab her pony animal and returning outside with it.

“So you ripped off the Band-Aid, eh?”

“It was harder than we thought it was going to be, but she took it really well.”

That’s an understatement if I’ve ever heard one.

“Obviously,” Davis remarks, his eyes on his niece in the backyard, in the sandbox with Rainbow, her horse. “She’s been asking about her dad for a while, and no offense, but at one point, she thought it was me.”