In a way, all mothers are ‘single mothers’, aren’t they?

God, how those words used to give me nightmares. It was like a horrible title that branded me, alerting everyone I met to pull out all their worst assumptions about who I was before I’d even spoken a word. I hated seeing those two words written down. I hated the wonderful world of regular motherhood that seemed cut off from me by that ‘single’ jumping out ahead in front, so that I was never just a mother, but a mother who was alone, a mother who had been left. Single. Just me.

The joke was, though, that I felt most alone before Andrew left. Now, with just me and the two boys, the family almost felt like it had more people in it, as though Andrew was a negative somehow, cancelling out the good. I have no idea what it even means to be a mother without the ‘single’ part. Who else is with you when you’re six hours into labor and there’s nothing but a wall of pain to push through to bring that little screaming child into the world? Who else can sit patiently and feed him? And who else could possibly step in to breastfeed when he’s so young he can scarcely open his eyes?

Andrew was sometimes around, and he sometimes wasn’t. But there was never a second in either of my children’s lives when I wasn’t their mother, wasn’t standing by, every molecule of my body tuned into their needs, ready to spring in. Andrew loves his boys, I won’t lie. But it’s not even remotely the same thing. All mothers are single mothers, if you ask me.

“Mom, he won’t share.”

“Ben, share with your brother.”

“But mom! He had his already.”

I double checked I had the right address and then pulled into the car park. I grabbed my purse, gave my reflection a quick check in the rearview mirror and stepped outside.

“Mom, his was bigger though, right? So maybe he can share.”

“Come on, get out you two, we’re already late.”

The three of us made our way into the community center and I silently prayed we hadn’t missed too much.

Here’s a horrible mom confession: joining this ‘big brother’ program sounded like a great idea and all, but I was really here because it was cheaper and easier than finding a safe place for the boys on Saturday mornings. Since I’d taken a weekend job and my usual sitter had disappeared, it really was a last-resort kind of thing. Honestly? I don’t really think any child needs a damn ‘father figure’. My boys have what they need, and some days, I think the less they have an asshole to disrupt their lives the better. But fine. I could give this a go until I found someone else to watch them on the weekends.

We made our way inside and a group of women handed the boys a little activity bag and invited them to run around outside in the play area. I quickly sat down and listened to the talk that was underway. I took the only seat left next to a prim looking woman in pearls, who immediately gave my tattoos the side eye. I wondered if she was as tired as I was. If she sometimes cried in the bathtub because she felt like she had suddenly woken up after a ten-year long coma and her life had already passed her by.

She gave me a thin smile.

Nah, probably not.

The speaker explained how the program worked. ‘Big brothers’ went through a rigorous screening and training program and then were paired up with boys with matching interests. They’d do a weekly age-appropriate activity together, like learning a skill or fishing. I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes, of course.

Isn’t it funny how totally wonderful and amazing it is for a man to step up for two hours a week and yet when women do it, it’s just nothing? I wondered why everyone expected me to dive right in and figure shit out and yet here I was being told how long and how thoroughly these men were trained to handle ordinary children for the shortest possible amount of time. But fine. It would do until I could find a more reliable sitter.

We all clapped as the speaker went on about how grateful we were to have the Big Brothers volunteer their precious time. I scanned the crowd and tried to get a look at some of them. They didn’t seem like damn superheroes. But fine.

There were a dozen or so of them sitting behind the podium and looking pretty pleased with themselves, but one guy caught my eye. It wasn’t that usual to see a heavily tatted person in this town, but his arms were covered in a style of work I hadn’t ever seen before. My eyes lingered on the intense shapes and lines snaking up his arm, and I found myself wondering what they became higher up, underneath the sleeve of his shirt. In an instant, he caught me staring and our eyes locked across the hall. I flicked my eyes away again and pretended to be listening to the talk, but when I sneakily let my eyes wander back to him, there he was, staring back.

Shit.

I couldn’t suppress a smile as I looked down and felt my cheeks heat up. I briefly wondered what his deal was. He looked a lot younger than the others and there was something …a little wild about him. It was hard to explain, but he was just different. And, like me, he was totally not listening to the talk. When I casually stole yet another glance, he was looking away and I could get a real eyeful. He was good looking, but in a rough, kind of undone way. The kind of good looks that don’t rub off with dirt and scratches, but seem to almost get better. When he turned to catch my eye again I felt my heart flip in my chest as he returned a warm, easy smile. I gulped and fumbled with a brochure on my lap. Look at me, flirting with some hot young stud who was probably half my age.

The speaker wrapped up her talk and people applauded again. But before the applause was finished a long, high-pitched squeal rang out through the hall and everyone froze and turned to look out the large windows into the children’s play area. A few people rushed over and in the mild chaos I lost his gaze. Over the excited talking I heard my son’s voice.

“Ben?” I said and raced outside, pushing through the crowd.

Ben stood helplessly in the center, clutching his arm with two wet streaks down his cheek.

“Ben, baby what happened?” I said and rushed over to him. More excited chatter. He kept silent and sulky, looking at the ground and not responding to my questions.

“He’s just fallen and hurt himself, that’s all,” one of the organizers was saying. I looked around at the ring of children surrounding us, and something on their faces told me that Ben had not in fact just fallen.

“Alex, what happened to your brother?” I said. But Alex kept his mouth shut, too. I felt myself getting angry.

“Did somebody hurt him?” I said, not quite sure whom I was addressing this question to. The crowd of children was eerily silent.

“No, I’m sure it was just an accident, ma’am,” someone behind me said.

“Baby, did somebody hurt you?” I pulled away his hand to see a raw, angry looking welt on his upper arm. He said nothing, but I knew in my heart it was no accident. I pulled him to me and hugged him tightly, and the crowd dissipated a little. I scanned the group of children and tried to figure it out. I couldn’t believe how casual everyone was being when someone had clearly hurt my child.

“Who was it?” I said again, this time addressing the children who all avoided my gaze. They could probably hear the anger in my voice. I pulled Ben closer to me and was about to say something else when I saw him again.

The guy with the tattoos.

I stood and we locked eyes again, but this time neither of us was in a hurry to look away. Most of the kids scurried off and the organizers seemed relieved for the chance to escape and head towards the refreshment table.

“He won’t tell you, not now at least.”

“Excuse me?”

He took a step towards me, extended his hand and I shook it.

“Sorry, my name’s Dave. I was just saying, he’s probably terrified. He won’t say who did it with everyone watching.”

I nodded. At least it was clear to one other person that it wasn’t an accident. I idly looked over Ben’s arm but he soon shrugged from my grasp and ran off to play, leaving me with the tattooed guy. I sighed.

“Uh, it’s Ally. Hi. Yeah, he’s always been a little …shy that way.”

“Great kid though.”

“Thanks.”

There was nothing to do but look into his eyes, which were a deep, opaque brown. God, he was even younger up close than he seemed at first.

“Is it Ben and Alex Watkins? Actually, I think they matched your little guys up with me,” he said and I followed his eyes as they picked through the mixed crowd of chattering children and adults.

“Oh?” Huh. Maybe things were looking up.

“Yeah, they announced it all at the start of the talk, maybe you hadn’t arrived yet.”

“Yeah, um, we were a little late. You know how it is with kids,” I said and tried to find something to do with my hands. He was easily a decade younger than me, so why did I suddenly feel like a giggly girl in his presence?

“Actually, not so much. Are they a handful?”

“Oh man, you don’t even know the half of it,” I said. “You… don’t have any kids of your own?” I was beginning to wish I had paid more attention to the talk so I at least had something to say to this good-looking guy right now. He laughed out loud at my question but then immediately stopped himself.

“I mean, I love kids, of course,” he said, suddenly serious, and then I couldn’t help laughing.

“Of course,” I said smiling and was a little surprised by the immediate, easy chemistry between us.

“Sorry, what did you say your name was again?”

“It’s Ally.”

“Ally,” he repeated. It felt weird to hear my name on his lips.

“Uh… so what do you think, a movie to start with? Or some ice cream?” I said and tried in vain to pull my gaze from his without it snapping back again. He blushed.

“A… movie? Oh wow. Yes, absolutely, why not. Sure. You like movies?” he said and flashed a playful, boyish smile my way. I burst out laughing.

“Oh shit, you meant …you meant with the kids,” he said and suddenly put his hand to his head in embarrassment.

“I… I’m sorry,” I giggled.

“No, please. I’m not usually this awkward, I promise.”

“You sure about that?” I said and relished how delicious it felt to bask in that full, easy smile of his. When was the last time I casually flirted with a genuinely handsome man? Probably since never, that’s when. There was no mistaking it now: he was blushing, and hard. It was really quote charming – his shaggy, rough face seemed to melt and he looked as bashful as a puppy. I felt my knees go weak. I don’t know why, but I cleared my throat and went into mom mode.

“Well, this coming Saturday will work really well for me, so if you want to arrange something for then, I’m sure Ben and Alex would love it.”

He started nodding and didn’t quite stop.

“Cool. Ok, great. Sounds good. I’ve already gotten all your info from the front desk, so I guess we’ll see how it goes from there.”

“Cool,” I said.

“Cool.”

I stared at the floor and then out at the boys, who were now playing again on the swings.

“I’m… not usually this awkward either,” I said and he smiled again.

Surely he couldn’t be interested in me? A worn-out, cynical-as-hell single mother of two? But there he was, making no sign of walking away. Was he just being polite?

“I was bullied as a kid,” he said at last. I turned to look at him. He was watching the kids play in the playground, hands in his pockets, standing like he owned the place.

“Really? I find that hard to believe.”

“No, it’s true. Actually, I used to be a little like your son. Kind of shy.”

I laughed. A blind person could have seen how buff and intimidating he was, with his tattoos and devil-may-care hair flopping into his eyes.

“No, really. It’s hell for a kid. You know, I could help him out with that.”

“With… what?”

“Well, with taking care of people who wanna pick on him.”

I frowned.

“Taking care of them? That sounds a little ominous.”

“I’m serious though. It’s good to nip that kind of shit in the bud.”

“Pfft.”

He looked at me.

“You know, when I was younger I really wished I had someone older to look out for me.”

“Um… I’m his mother. I look out for him plenty.”

“Of course,” he said and smiled broadly again. “But I guess that’s where this big brother thing comes in, right? Stepping in as a male role model and all that,” he said, sounding a little sheepish.

“No offense, but you don’t quite seem like the kid-loving kind,” I said, still smarting a little from his suggestion that I wasn’t able to care for my child properly.

He laughed.

“Yea, no shit. You wanna know a secret though?”

I lifted my eyebrows at him.

“I’m only here as a promise to a buddy of mine. Back when we were deployed he kind of stuck his neck out for me more than once, and you could say I owe him. He really thinks highly of this program and I agreed to give it a try.”

“Deployment? So you’re a soldier.”

“Navy SEAL,” he said casually.

“Oh, that’s… kind of impressive. A shy bullied kid grows up to become a big strong Navy SEAL? That’s quite the story,” I said, and bit my tongue as I realized I’d just called him big and strong. He gave me a look that had my stomach fluttering madly and then smiled at the ground.

“Well, I wouldn’t say I’m grown up, exactly,” he said and gave me a cheeky wink.

It was ludicrous. Completely crazy. Boring average unremarkable women like me didn’t have anything to do with hot calendar model types like him. This wasn’t the Twilight Zone. And yet, every time he looked at me I could feel it like heat radiating off of him: he was definitely checking me out.

“So uh, what do you do?” he said.

“Oh, nothing quite so impressive as you I’m afraid. I’m an ER nurse. Not so much putting the gunshot wounds in as fixing them up,” I said, and inwardly kicked myself for making such an off-color joke. If I didn’t know better I’d swear it looked like I was trying to chase this guy off. But to my surprise, he was laughing.

“I like that. You’re funny. You won’t believe I but I’m actually a little squeamish myself. I could never do what you do.”

“Squeamish? But not afraid of needles, obviously,” I said and gestured to the colorful artwork all over his arms. He glanced down and then back up at me.

“Ah yeah, you got me there. What can I say, I have no rational defense for these bad boys,” he laughed. “I’m a bit… impulsive.”

And there it was. With a little lick of electricity pulsing right through me and landing square between my legs, his deep brown gaze seemed to hit deep and do strange things to me. A younger me might have returned that smoldering look. A braver me might have laughed and casually touched his arm, just so, on that thick bicep of his. A million different versions of me could have thought of a million different things to do with this man right now…

But that was all crazy.

I was the sad ‘MILF’ in the story and the best I could hope for now was looking good ‘for my age’ and convincing a man to stick around with me and my brood, right? Not only was this young buck exactly the wrong kind of man for me; he was eons too young and almost certainly had better prospects somewhere else. So, I didn’t flirt back. I kept that desperate little ache to myself. I thought of my kids and allowed myself no more than a few minutes to fantasize that I lived another life where getting with a guy like this was totally possible.

“You’ve got some great ones yourself,” he said and stared at my chest. My heart nearly stopped when I realized that he was referring to my tattoos.

“Oh, uh, these? Yeah, I’ve had them for ages. Not your typical mom style, is it? But lord knows I’m not a typical mom,” I said absentmindedly.

“No, no you’re really not,” he said and I caught his eye.

Oh god, it had been so long since I’d had this feeling. This rush, this sweet sizzle and pop in the air like everything was filled with sexy, static electricity and if he kept giving that juicy smile I didn’t know what I was going to do with myself…

“I should get going,” I said in as decisive a voice as I could muster. “I’m good for next Saturday morning if you’re available, and we can see if you get on with the boys…”

“Yeah,” he said, but he seemed kind of distracted. “The boys. Of course.”

I extended my hand to his and he shook it quickly.

“It was nice meeting you, Dave. I’m sure the kids are going to love hanging out with a real live Navy SEAL,” I said cheerfully. But I really meant: I’m going to love hanging out with a real live Navy SEAL. I had no idea what I had in common with a guy like this, I had never known a guy nearly half as built and muscly and I still wasn’t entirely convinced he was much over 21, but I couldn’t deny that the idea of seeing him again was a sweet one.

That evening I did a shift, and lo and behold, there really was a stab wound and I instantly thought of Dave the Navy SEAL as we dressed his wounds and sent him home in the early hours of the morning. My life was the most boring thing you could imagine, but now there was a strange, bright new spot in it, a weird new idea with sparkly brown eyes which looked at me in ways that made me feel giddy.

Dave.

My mind circled round and round all throughout my shift but it kept coming back to one unavoidable, delicious fact: he was into me. And with the same kind of relish you take your first breath after being underwater for a long time, I realized how hungry I was to be into him.