Perfectly Adequate

“I think you’re mad. So I’ll clean him up. Problem solved.”

“Dorothy!”

She jumps. Wide eyes unblinking at me.

Roman’s lower lip pushes out and tears fill his eyes. “Daddy … why are you mad at Dorfee?”

Fuck …

“Okay. S-so …” Dorothy stutters and surveys the room like she’s looking for something. “I’ll just … go. Bye, Romeo.”

“Bye, Dorfee,” he murmurs, blinking several times without releasing any actual tears yet.

As she passes me, I grab her hand to stop her and blow out a long breath. “I shouldn’t have asked you to watch him tonight. You had plans, and I didn’t respect that. So all of this is on me, not you.”

She keeps her gaze at the door and says nothing, so I release her hand because I don’t have time to deal with her and get Roman cleaned up and in bed.

No time for patience.

No time for reflection.

No time to plan how I will handle Julie in the morning.

So I act on impulse and do the things that need to be done first, starting with my soaked child.

The door clicks behind Dorothy.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, buddy.” I remove his clothes over the tile floor in the kitchen.

“Daddy, I rode in red wagon.”

“Oh yeah?” I force a little daddy enthusiasm even though I feel none.

“I did. I did … and Dorfee pull the wagon and I go wee! And … and we gots food. Lots of food. We were cleaning!”

“That’s great, Roman.” I pick him up and carry him upstairs. “Are you going to shower with me?”

“And Dorfee and me gave all the lots of food to people, Daddy.”

“Uh huh …” I set him down and turn on the shower to warm up while I undress. “Let’s see if you have any more pee pee.” I set him on the toilet, and sure enough, more pee.

He giggles. “It’s lemon … ade. Me and Dorfee had lemon … ade. Purple lemon … ade.”

“Lavender lemonade?”

“Yes. Labender lemon … ade. It was yummy.”

I usher him into the walk-in shower.

As I shampoo his hair, he glances up at me. “Daddy, some … some people have no food.”

I pause my motions for a few seconds before returning a slow nod and resuming the sudsing. “That’s true.”

“Is sad, Daddy. Dorfee say is sad. But me and Dorfee gave … gave people food. All the lots of food. Dat … dat make people happy.”

I’m an asshole.

When you meet someone who is essentially a better human than ninety-nine percent of the population, it’s hard to not occasionally show your asshole side. By default, their selflessness will be misread as selfishness. Tonight, I thought Dorothy was being selfish with her insistence on going to the farmer’s market.

I was wrong.

She was being completely selfless in her actions. And at the same time, teaching my young child a very valuable lesson and me as well.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

She’s Mine

Dorothy

“Good morning.” Mom smiles, cinching the tie to her white bathrobe.

“Thanks for this,” I mumble over a mouthful of leftover fried rice.

“You mean my lunch that you’re eating for breakfast?”

“Oops.” I grin.

“How was the market?”

“Good. I took Romeo with me. Put him in my little red wagon. Look.” I pull up the pictures on my phone. “He’s so stinkin’ cute. He also kept eating the food we were gathering. The vendors went crazy over him. And I got us lavender lemonade, and he tried to eat the sprig of lavender, but spit it out onto the leg of a lady passing us. That was a little embarrassing.”

She laughs. “I’m sure. Did Eli enjoy the market?”

“Oh.” I shake my head, shoveling in more food. “He didn’t go. He had an appointment. I was babysitting Roman for him. I also ran into Dr. Hathaway. She seemed a little confused or worried about me being there alone with Roman. When she tried to get him to go home with her, he was all, ‘No! I stay with Dorfee!’ Oh my god, it was just … crazy. I didn’t know what to do.”

“So did he finally go with her?”

“No. Because this police officer came over and basically asked me if ‘my son and I’ knew her. Like … can you imagine how horrified she must have been? I felt really bad for her. But I didn’t know what to do.”

“What did Eli say when you told him?”

I cringe. “I don’t think he was happy. He didn’t exactly know I was taking Romeo to the market with me. He kinda freaked out when he got home.”

“Dorothy Emmaline Mayhem, you took his child without asking?”

“No. I didn’t take his child. He begged me to watch Roman. No big deal. Like, his son was fine. Yes, he wasn’t in his jammies and his face was a little dirty, but he was safe and sleeping on the sofa. I mean … isn’t that what should be important to parents? That at the end of the day, their child is alive and safe at home? Like … he sees this bad shit all day. He sees kids die and parents grieve. But he freaks out about a trip to the farmer’s market that ended just fine. I didn’t know what to say or do. This morning while I was showering, I thought thank god he didn’t know about the car seat.”