Cheap greasy food with the kids—the godforsaken, shitty food Wednesday night ritual.

When they were with me, my kids only ever wanted to eat junk. Getting them to eat somewhere a little healthier would take an act of God. Had to be the cookie, ice cream, caramel monstrosities aptly named the Mother-load they ordered without fail. I was sure they ordered them just to spite me, since I forced them to eat healthy on my weekends. Wednesdays were my compromise.

“Dad, can we get pizza?” Jess asked, scanning the menu so fast I wasn’t confident she even registered what she was lookin’ at.

“If we’re gonna eat junk, let’s do it right. Pizza it is. What’s the call?”

Brayden shrugged and slammed the menu shut. “Don’t care. Whatever’s fine.”

Angst-ridden, monosyllabic responses I’d adapted to, but backed with that much attitude from my son? Not gonna happen. I studied Jessa, who’d barely looked at me since I’d picked them up. “All right.” I put the menu down. “What’s with—”

The waitress arriving with our drinks and cheese sticks cut me off. Reaching over me so close her musky perfume became my air supply, she handed Bray his Coke before sliding Jessa’s Shirley Temple in front of her. Pure sugar, but what the hell? They were only kids once, and it fell under the Wednesday code.

“You ready to order?” She winked at me, leaning a hip against Jessa’s end of the booth.

Jess glared up at her then glanced between me and the waitress.

Who were these grouchy clones impersonating my usually pleasant kids? Jesus. “Yeah, I’ll take a side salad and a large pepperoni, mushroom, and green pepper pizza.” At least the kids liked those vegetables, and I supposed they’d get something decent in their systems along with all the grease.

“Got it,” the waitress said, writing down the order. “Anything else?”

I took the menus from the kids and handed them to her. When her fingers slid over mine, I nodded between the kids. “That’ll do it for now, but I’m sure they’ll want dessert a little later.”

“Of course. You sure that’s all I can get you?”

“He said that’s it for now!” Jessa fired back. Even Brayden snapped his head to his sister.

“Hey! Apologize. Now, Jessa.”

“Sorry,” she mumbled, crossing her arms over her chest.

“No worries.” The waitress left with a sympathetic glance at my daughter.

The fuck ..?

Pushing my iced tea out of the way, I leaned my forearms on the table, taking up most of the space. “Both of you.” I pointed between the two of them. “You want to tell me what the hell’s going on?” I faced my daughter. “Jess, you will never be outright rude to someone like that again. You understand me?”

Jessa’s fiery blue eyes met mine. “I don’t like the way she looked at you.”

Jesus Christ!

While my kids were more mature than most, Jessa picking up on something so subtle shocked me. The waitress had been sweet, just doing her job. Maybe a little flirty, but what the hell? They relied primarily on tips—I’d flirt my fucking ass off too, in that position. The girl hadn’t done anything blatant, definitely nothing my ten-year-old daughter should have flipped out over, but now I wanted to know what Jess thought she saw. “How did she look at me?”

Shrugging one shoulder and running a cheese stick through a scoop of marinara sauce, she plopped it down on her plate. “I don’t know. I just didn’t like it.”

“You do know. What didn’t you like?”

“She just looked at you too long, okay?” She slammed her back into the cushion with a huff. “It was like me and Bray weren’t even here.”

“Bray and I,” Brayden corrected her and pulled out his phone. “And seriously, this is the first time you’ve noticed the way chicks look at Dad?” He scoffed. “Where’ve you been?”

This was some fucked-up dimension where my kids had lost their damn minds.

“Bray, phone down. Not at dinner. And don’t say, ‘chicks,’ it’s girls or women.” I turned my attention back to Jessa as Bray shoved the phone back in his pocket. “Jess, just because someone looks at me, or Bray, or Mom a certain way shouldn’t upset you to the point you’re openly rude—that’s not you. She was just doing her job. Now, why are you so fired up?” I looked between them. “Both of you.”

Bray and Jess shot each other covert glances . . . with me sitting right in front of them. Nice. Co-conspirators.

Before I could say another word, Jessa sat up straight, slamming both hands on the tabletop. “Mom has a date! With the same guy.”

“Jessa!” Braydon barked. “I’m supposed to tell him. I’m older. It should come from me.”

I waited for my stomach to turn. For the surge of rage that would make my head explode. Thinking about my ex with another man should have made me want to put my fist through a wall . . . but it didn’t. We were divorced. I dated, so what, she couldn’t? Double standards weren’t my deal, but I did expect the first time I heard she was dating for it to piss me off. Huh.

I considered both my kids’ reactions. Jessa’s behavior read sharp and snappy, while Bray remained stoic. His shoulders and arms strung tight like rubber bands stretched thin.

The divorce included, Leah and I had been separated for two years. I wanted my ex to have a good life—she was the mother of my kids, after all. But beyond that, I wanted Bray and Jess as intact, healthy, and happy as they could possibly be with divorced parents.

“You thought I’d be upset about Mom dating?” I asked my sulking daughter.

Her eyes popped wide and her mouth fell open . . . reminding me of Valentina.

Where the fuck did that come from?

“Well, yeah, Dad.” Jessa cut into my inappropriate thoughts. “I—I kind of thought you’d be upset too.”

Brayden sat back hard against the booth cushion. “You think Dad doesn’t date?”

“Hey, both of you.” Was this conversation seriously happening right now? Fuck. “Listen to me. What your mom and I do in our personal lives is our business, as long as it doesn’t hurt or affect either of you. It’s not something for you to get upset or worry about. I don’t expect your mom to stop living her life because we’re not together anymore. I hope you don’t, either. If you’re upset about something, you tell me, because I won’t have either of you biting people’s heads off when they’ve done nothing wrong. Jess . . . ”

“Alright.” She rolled her eyes at me. “I’m sorry. I just . . . I don’t want another Daddy!”

“Jess, you’re gonna be eleven,” Brayden interjected. “You can stop calling him ‘Daddy’ like a little girl.”

I reached over and grabbed my son’s wrist gently, but with enough pressure that he looked at me. “You’re my son.” I nodded at Jessa. “She’s my daughter. As far as I’m concerned, she can call me ‘Daddy’ until I’m six feet deep. You’re a guy, so ‘Dad’ works for me, but she’s a girl. It’s different. Got it?”

“Yeah, Dad. Got it.” Bray sighed as I let him go. “Sorry.”

“It’s all right, but the both of you need to talk. So, you were afraid I’d be mad, Jessa?”

Tears welled in the corners of Jessa’s eyes.

A ripping pain tore across the expanse of my chest and I thought my heart might have cracked or a valve might have blown.

“Not mad, but sad, maybe? Aren’t you a little sad?” A lone tear slid down her cherubic face to disappear into her shirt.

How to handle this?

“Honey, all I care about is that you guys and your mom are healthy and happy. You’re my first priority, as you are Mom’s. So no, I’m not sad, but I’m concerned if you’re upset. Nobody . . . ” I reached across the table, taking my daughter’s hands in mine. “ . . . and I mean nobody will ever take mine or your mother’s place. You have one mom and one dad, and we’re it. No upgrades.”

A small, but tight grin spread across her mouth. “I love you, Dad.”

“I love you both. So how about you, Bray? Where do you land on this?”

Brayden gave a sharp shrug and met my eyes with a blazing heat. “I don’t care.”

Bullshit.

“Copout. Spit it, son.”

“What if he’s a dick, Dad? What if he’s mean to her?”

Jessa’s biting off people’s heads and Bray’s cussing. What the fuck’s next?

I got it. Typical girl versus boy reactions. Jessa I already knew wanted us back together. Bray . . . I wasn’t sure what shit was going through his head, but I was about to find out.

“First, I’ll talk to your mom when I drop you both off tonight, Bray, you’re cut off PS4, dude. No gaming until Wednesday. You don’t cuss because you get upset.” When he opened his mouth, I turned my body to him so he got the full force of the reprimand. I wouldn’t have my son cussing—“do as I say, not as I do” kind of shit, but I tried like hell not to cuss in front of my kids. “End of story. Second, divorced or not, anyone hurts your mother, you have my word I’ll set that straight. Although knowing your mom as well as I do, she’d handle it on her own.”

“Daddy, if he hurts her, will you beat him up?” Jessa chimed in.

At the last second, I caught the chuckle rumbling up my throat. Probably not a good time to laugh at this surreal situation where my kids wanted me to protect my ex-wife, one woman I knew did not need protecting. My ex was one tough lady, and I had loved that about her. Nobody messed with Leah. She was strength personified.

That said, bottom line was anyone touched her physically in a way she didn’t consent to, yeah, I’d end the motherfucker, divorced or not. I’d never tolerate assholes treating any woman poorly, especially the mother of my kids. That was my trigger. Couldn’t condone violence to my ten-year-old, though.

“Jess, Mom can take care of herself and she’s a good judge of character. You gotta trust her. I mean, come on.” I leaned back and pointed at myself. “She was married to me, so you know she has good taste.”

Jessa shook her head and smirked at me. “You’re not funny, Dad.”

“He’s totally funny.” Bray chuckled as dinner arrived.

The waitress appeared with the pizza, salad, and another Shirley Temple for Jessa. She moved the drink in front of Jess and winked at her. “On the house, honey.”

My daughter’s cheeks turned a bright pink and she smiled up at the waitress. “Thank you and I’m sorry I snapped at you.”

“Nothing I haven’t heard from my own daughter, sweetie. I appreciate the apology.”

Before she left, I ordered the standard desserts for the kids and thanked her for the drinks. Serving the pizza, I handed a slice to each of my kids and glanced at Bray. “Go, Bray.”

Bray shrugged out of his jacket before biting through half the slice. “Look, Dad—”

“Ewww. Finish chewing first, Brayden. You’re so gross,” Jessa interrupted, gingerly laying her napkin across her lap.

Ignoring his sister, Bray set both arms on the table. “You know my friend, Dave?”

“Of course. It was Dave’s paintball party you were at a few weekends back.”

“That’s him. His parents have been married longer than you and Mom were. They’re still married. I’m there a lot, and I never see them talk. I don’t even think they like each other. Makes it hard on Dave. Hunter’s parents are divorced—you remember Hunter?”

The fuck? Did my kids genuinely think I’d forgotten their friends? “Come on, Bray, yeah I know Hunter, and his dad.” This shit fucked with me. I’d only moved around two months ago and my kids thought I’d forget their friends? Fuck me. Hunter’s dad was a fucking tool, in my estimation—got caught cheating when the crazy bitch he’d been banging called his wife. Man-up and leave first, I say, but hey, not my deal.

Bray took another bite of pizza and kept talking, mouth full, as Jessa put her finger in her mouth and made a gag noise. Now these were the kids I was used to, not the look-alike mini-adults hitting me with questions and observations way beyond their years.

“Okay, so you know Hunt’s parents are divorced and they make Dave’s parents look nice. They hate each other. I mean hate. His mom’s always keeping him from seeing his dad, and his dad’s always bringing different girls around when he’s with Hunter—he hates it. Sometimes I think he might even hate his parents. At least you and Mom aren’t like that. So I guess, as long as you and Mom don’t hate each other, and whoever Mom ends up with is good to her, it’s whatever.”

Spoken like a true boy.

“I have one favor to ask.” Bray pulled the crust off his pizza and looked up at me.

“Name it, son.” I mixed the salad in front of me, a little astounded at how much my children picked up on in their daily lives—their friends’ lives. I shouldn’t have been. I was the same way at a young age, but still . . . I didn’t want life infecting them this young.

“I know it might not be my place, and I’ll talk to Mom too, but I don’t want to meet anyone you or Mom date unless they’re gonna be around for a while. I don’t want Jess to meet them, either.”

My son was as protective when it came to Leah as Jess was with me. Bray’s friends’ parents had given him a context Jessa hadn’t experienced yet, and I was thankful. Sometimes when I got caught up in my own self-pity bullshit, I tended to forget how fucked up things could get in failed marriages where kids were involved.

This was life—hard as fuck and not for the weak.

“It’s a fair request, Bray. I’d never bring someone into your lives who wasn’t important to me, or who I thought wouldn’t love you both. We clear?”

Bray shook his head. “Okay. But I’m still gonna talk to Mom.”

“Gotta do what you feel is right. Always speak your mind.”

For the rest of dinner, after the mini-episode of The Twilight Zone ended, I got caught up on what was going on in their world. I listened to softball stories, who Jessa’s best friend this week was, though she still missed Sarah and nobody compared to her. How Brayden hated his math teacher, and how he was probably going to make the varsity baseball team as a sophomore. He’d always been a gifted baseball player, and I was thankful he had something he was passionate about in his life—something to keep him focused. Jessa would find her niche. She played softball because Bray played baseball, but it wasn’t her thing. She was good at it, but she didn’t love it like Bray.

Dessert arrived, and my kids dug in like it was the only food left on the planet. Vanilla ice cream was smeared over the side of Bray’s mouth, but he just kept on talking. Jess broke it in pieces so each portion fit perfectly into her mouth. This was what I missed—the little idiosyncrasies that made my kids . . . my kids. The move, the distance, kept me out of their everyday lives. Made me miss small things, details some people took for granted, and that ate away at my fucking heart.