next to Andy, then got in himself, sitting up with his back against the wall, long legs almost reaching the end of the twin-sized bed. “What do you want to read tonight?”
Andy rolled onto his side, Helix tucked into the crook of his arm, and picked at Dakota’s sweatpants. “Don’t wanna read.”
“What would you like then?” Dakota asked, running his fingers through Andy’s hair.
Andy was quiet for a moment, picking at the pilling on Dakota’s pants. “Dad.”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t think Mom’ll like chicken nuggets an’ fries.”
Dakota didn’t think so either. “What should we make instead then?”
“Stew.”
“Stew?” He squinted down at Andy. “How do you even know what that is?” When was the last time he’d made stew, if ever?
“Grandma made it at Christmas.”
Dakota didn’t remember that, but okay. Guess he was calling his mom tomorrow morning for the recipe.
“Daddy.”
“Mm-hmm.”
Andy’s eyes slid closed. “Mom’s not coming tomorrow.”
“How do you . . . ?” But Andy was already asleep.
Dakota kissed him twice on the head, once for each full-time parent he should’ve had. “Goodnight, my baby,” he whispered. Standing as smoothly as he could so he didn’t rock the bed, he left the door open a crack before heading back downstairs. He moved their half-finished puzzle to the side of the room and pulled the coffee table back into place before grabbing his phone off the end table next to the couch.
Are you still coming for dinner tomorrow? Andy can’t wait to see you.
Truthfully, he wasn’t sure how Andy felt, but a little incentive to get Fiona to keep her promises couldn’t hurt.
Fiona’s reply came less than a minute later. Can I let you know tomorrow afternoon?
Of course, when Fiona needed to cancel a visit, she responded instantly. When he tried scheduling one with her and Andy, sometimes it took days for her to get back to him.
It sent his mind back four years. For months after Andy was born, getting Fiona to open up had been like feeding a shy turtle—impossible. Even a simple “How was your day” when he arrived home from work was met with evasiveness and a subject change. It had all culminated in a divorce and one motherless kid.
She hadn’t kept a single commitment in the past several years. Their wedding vows were broken, she’d left Andy, and every visit had been either rescheduled or cancelled entirely.
Dakota waited for a second text. Something that would contain an explanation as to why she might not make it. When three minutes passed with nothing, he sent back: Sure. But if you can’t make it, you get to tell your son why.
That was mean, but hey, she needed to be held accountable.
How had Andy known, though? Intuition? Nah. Low expectations, more likely.
God. Rubbing his temples, he leaned his head back until the top of it thumped against the wall. Did Andy have low expectations when it came to his father too?
Jesus fuck, he hoped not.
He and Fiona had officially split when Andy was less than a year old. After Fiona had moved out but before Dakota had sold their old house in The Beaches and moved him and Andy into this one in Toronto’s High Park neighborhood, he’d read one too many parenting blogs about how single parenting was hard. It was the one time he’d ever considered moving back to Halifax, where he had family and friends ready and willing to help and who would surround Andy with so much love he’d never have occasion to miss his mom.
Three things had kept him here.
First, Calder. He wasn’t a replacement for Fiona and didn’t try to be, but he was great with Andy, and he spent almost as much time with them as he did at his own apartment.
Second, his job. He worked for a great organization that treated its employees well, and he got along great with his coworkers.
And third, Andy. Even as a baby he’d never been fussy. He was the easiest kid on the planet, almost like he knew that being a handful would be hard on his dad.
The phone vibrated in his hand, a photo of his youngest brother flashing across the screen. A smile breaking free, Dakota swiped to answer. “Hey, Owen.”
“Hey. Did I catch you at a bad time?” His voice was as familiar as ever.
“Nah. Andy just went to bed.”
“Aw.” Dakota could practically see the pout. “I wanted to say hi to the little bugger. Ah well. I’ll call back before dinner tomorrow. So.”
Amused, Dakota’s grin widened. “So.”
“What’s up?”
“You called me. What’s up with