Wham. My chest twisted, and then twisted again. What was I doing, playing at being a father? I had no idea how to be one. What if I screwed this up? The better question was, what were the odds that I wasn't going to screw this up? But when this little boy smiled at me, I wanted to be everything he needed. I made myself a promise, right there and then, not to disappoint Lori and Milo.
I ruffled his hair, lowering myself on my haunches.
"Exactly. I'll build it with you. Do you know if your mom has a toolbox?"
"Yes. Uncle Will brought us a new one last year. I know where we keep it."
"Okay, buddy. Let's take everything home and I'll help you build it."
Like a real dad.
***
Turned out we'd both miscalculated. The tent didn't fit in his room, so we set it up in the living room. I hadn't manned up enough to send Lori a picture yet.
"You're the best explorer," Milo declared after we pretended to light a campfire in the living room. The fire was pretend, but the mess we'd made wasn't. We brought in twigs and leaves, and cleaning up was torture, because we dragged in dirt too.
"Do you have homework?" I inquired after we cleaned up as best as we could.
"Yes."
"Let's take a look at it."
"Do we have to?"
"If we want your mom to allow me to watch you again, yes."
Milo practically ran to his room, returning with a book and a notebook. We settled on the floor, and he showed me his math homework.
I'd saved a soccer club from bankruptcy and turned it profitable, and I'd minored in engineering. Surely a second grade math problem couldn't stump me? Except it did. Not so much the problem itself, but the way of presenting the solution. It was a simple geometry question, but explaining it to a second grader was different than explaining it to an older student. I spent twenty minutes on Google and thirty on YouTube until I understood what I had to explain.
"Milo, we've earned an ice cream," I announced once we were done.
"We're allowed ice cream for dinner?" The excitement in his voice was contagious. Shit. I definitely remembered a rule about sugar and evening, but I chose to fake selective memory loss just this once.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Lori
"I get now why planners charge three times their normal rate for celebrity events. It's because you do three times the work," I told Hailey the second she picked up. I was driving home from the birthday party, and she'd asked me to call after the event was over. "But it was exciting."
"Exciting enough to do it again?"
"Absolutely. But I'm going to rethink my rates."
I'd been running around like a crazy person ever since I took on the event. I'd realized this birthday party would be more work than even a wedding from the first meeting. By the time they changed the theme for the third time, I understood why the previous planner had bailed. I wouldn't lie; the thought crossed my mind too. But I didn't want to put Hailey in a bad position, and I made a point of seeing through what I started. Besides, if I wanted to work more celebrity events, I had to get used to the grind. Now, however, I was ready to sleep for a week.
"Do that. I told Cameron you've given us an introductory rate anyway, so he's going to expect a price raise."
"Okay. Thanks."
"I'm so happy I found this job, Lori. I'd forgotten what it was like to actually live in my house. I'm planning some changes around here."
"Oh?"
"A new coat of paint. A shoe closet."
"Wanna organize a Connor day at your house? We can bring sandwiches and do a group job of it."