9
Harrison
Each time I saw Jordan, the more I was attracted to her. My compatriots had less at stake than I did and had an easy time expressing their lewd desires for our new nanny, but it was a bit different for me. I didn’t color myself some overly sophisticated man, but I was the only one in the Single Dad Club that didn’t part from his ex due to differences or falling out of love. It didn’t help that Jordan looked just like her, and laying eyes on her took me back to a past I had tried very hard to forget.
I’d been designated by the other dads to be the one to explain to Jordan the circumstances of our arrangements and the agreements we’d come to, but I wasn’t even sure I could remain objective about her. I wasn’t as carnal as Lowe or Oliver, but I couldn’t stop myself from agreeing with them when they said they would have fucked her without concern for the consequences. I might have done the same. I wanted her more than I could fathom.
“Knock, knock!”
Jordan’s melodic voice pierced my thoughts. I glanced at the clock in my office and realized that I’d been sitting deep in thought for close to an hour. She was already home with Trey and it was time to have the conversation with her, and I hadn’t even considered what I was going to say.
“Harrison?” Jordan called out again.
“Hi daddy,” Trey greeted. “Can I watch Pit Stop?” Pit Stop was Trey’s recent cartoon of choice; he was obsessed with it. “I’m hungry.”
“Do I look like a walking need-fulfiller to you?” I asked him, and he stared back at me blankly. “I’ll take that as a yes. Come on.” I looked up at Jordan. “Do you have a moment? I’ll just get him set up with dinner and his show, then I wanted to talk to you about something.”
Jordan nodded with a bright smile. “Of course.”
“Come on in. Make yourself comfortable,” I responded, and then I followed as Trey was already headed towards the living room.
I followed him in and chuckled as he went about setting up his typical, nightly routine. He was a child of habit, and I just stood while he dragged over his child-sized armchair, placing it square in front of the T.V., pushing it back until it was far enough away that he knew he wouldn’t get barked at by his father, and then he went and grabbed his little table. He then sat down in the chair and looked back over his shoulder at me, absently wondering why I wasn’t already doing my job. I prepared him a quick meal of nuggets and fries, his favorite, and delivered them to him with a juice box and carrot sticks. He didn’t even say thank you, he just settled in and immediately started eating. I clicked on his favorite episode of Pit Stop from our recorded stash, and then as I passed by him, he did offer me a chicken nugget of gratitude.
“You’re welcome, bud,” I said to him. “You eat it for me.”
He didn’t even look up; he just popped it into his mouth.
I walked back out of the living room and found Jordan sitting in the den, and had started the fire place. She was standing in front of it, looking at the pictures I had on the mantle. I couldn’t keep many pictures out; any that gave way to my old life were too risky to show anyone but myself, but there were a few of Trey and I that I kept up there, along with Trey’s kindergarten school photo.
“He’s pretty cute isn’t he?” I asked and Jordan turned around and smiled at me.
“He’s very cute,” she responded. “He doesn’t look much like you. Does he take after his mother?”
That was a question I wasn’t prepared to answer. “Are you saying I’m not cute?” I diverted.
Jordan’s cheeks turned red. “N-no! You’re very cute. Uh, I mean…” She started chuckling. “Well played.”
