A Quick Note: Unfortunately I have fallen off the short-lived wagon, and failed to live up to my promise of posting something every weekday. On Monday Squarespace was subject to numerous DDOS attacks in the evening that left my site inaccessible, leaving me unable to retrieve anything I had worked on earlier in the day, and unable to post anything new. Tuesday I tried playing catch-up and had planned to post the finished versions of both Day 01 and Day 02 in one post, but amid work meetings and the last episode of something I love very much: The Best Show on WFMU, I couldn't devote as much time to the writing as I wanted to. Today, day 03, I will be posting all content for the days missed.
George shifted the car’s transmission from drive to reverse, palmed the headrest of the passenger seat, turned his head clockwise from twelve to four, and backed his car into the farthest possible parking space from the entrance of the Public Utilities building. He placed the car in park, but left his hand on the gearshift. The image of his two daughters, who he dropped off at his mother-in-law's every day, was still fresh in his mind: the youngest, Charlotte, only three months, was asleep in her car seat, wrapped in a blanket, while eighteen month old Sophia was in the arms of her grandmother, slowly realizing her dad was leaving, her face twisting with dreadful revelation. George tried to reassure Sophia, but the attempt had the opposite effect and she began wailing in anguish before he finished even one syllable. This was a new reaction for Sophia, and it was the first time George felt heartbroken for his daughter, like he was letting her down in some unknowable, unexplainable way. Unsure of what to do or how to comfort his panicked daughter, George stepped backwards out of the doorway like a cartoon character that’s tipped over an expensive vase. Before closing the door he glanced down at Charlotte who had been awoken by the outburst; when they made eye contact, she smiled beneath her pacifier.
George realized now that this was only the first in a series of irrational heartbreaks he would experience as a father. The scene continued to replay itself in his mind until he picked up his phone. He scrolled through the contacts until he found his boss’s name. There was a second's hesitation before selecting the office number and putting the phone up to his ear.
Public Utilities this is Bess, how can I help you?
Hey Bess, it’s George, how are you?
Good.
That’s good, hey, my daughter has a doctor’s appointment this morning that I completely forgot about, and she’s getting shots, so I think I'm just going to take her in this morning and stay with her the rest of the day, if that’s all right.
Oh, poor thing, well that’s not a problem at all, I hope everything goes well, I'll see you tomorrow George.
Ok, thanks Bess, have a good day.
George was unsure of how sincere his phony call-ins sounded. He felt like he was good at it generally, there were no alarming tones or hesitation in his boss’s remarks, but didn't everyone think they were good at lying? And his experience had been that the people who thought they were the best at lying, were actually the worst. Besides, George didn’t lie about anything major, it was a tool used mainly to get out of work; one that he had become easy to use, and that he relied on a little too much. George’s inner monologue was cut short when someone walked by the hood of his car and he realized he was still sitting in the parking lot.
His destination raised another question: what do I tell my mother-in-law? Fifteen minutes later, and standing at the front door with the doorbell’s ring a distant echo, George was still searching for the right explanation.
Hey George, back so soon?
Yeah.
Is everything all right?
Oh, yeah, everything’s fine.
Did you forget something?
No.
Ok. Well, come on in.
George had clearly missed his first opportunity to explain his reappearance; he briefly considered not explaining himself at all, just gathering up his daughters’ things awkwardly, and leaving, but knew that that wasn't a viable option. The return seemed to be just as confusing to Sophia, who, having heard her dad at the door, turned around slack-jawed.
Dada
Despite the toddler’s spot on utterance being used to describe everything she saw: her mother, grandparents, the dog, her toys, it still made George feel special. She toddled across the living room, babbling a secret code only she understood, and wedged her head between his thighs while hugging his legs. George bent over, grabbed Sophia under her arms, lifted her up, and cradled her in his right arm; the slobbery cipher intensifying with altitude. His mother-in-law had begun gathering the few things of Sophia’s that had already been scattered around. He knew she wouldn’t ask him outright for an explanation, but he also knew it would be really weird if he didn’t offer one.
I really didn’t feel like going to work.
Oh, I can watch the girls if you want to go home and relax.
No thank you, I wanted to take them out, spend some time with them.
Ok, well, have fun. Are you dropping them off tomorrow?
Yeah, they’ll be here tomorrow at the same time.
After his mother-in-law was done stuffing the scattered belongings into their travel bag, George lifted the car seat, and prompted Sophia to say “bye-bye.” Once the children were secured in the car, he sat in the driver’s seat, started the ignition, and thought to himself, what do I do with a toddler and an infant all day?