I woke up the next morning to a stream of texts from my lawyer. She wanted to meet with me to discuss Lindsey’s assets. My head pounding, I told her that I’d meet her within the next hour. Next, I texted Ella asking if she could watch Ross a little bit longer. I got up and grabbed a T-shirt and jeans, then brushed my teeth. I figured that I could stop for coffee before I met with Morgan, then I remembered that I didn’t have a car.

I took a Lyft to Morgan’s office and greeted her with a tired smile.

“Rough night?” she asked, organizing a pile of papers before sitting down at her desk.

“You could say that,” I said.

“Do you want anything? Water or tea?”

I shook my head no.

“Alright, then, we need to talk. I spoke to Lindsey’s bank and, did you know that she was four months behind on her mortgage?”

I stared at her, shocked. Lindsey never mentioned anything about financial trouble. “Wait, no. She never said anything. I was the co-signer, but the bank never mentioned anything to me either.”

“Well, now that you’re her next of kin all of her debts will be transferred to you.”

“I mean, I guess I could dip into my savings so that the mortgage is covered.” Money would be tight for a while, but it was nothing I couldn’t handle, at least that’s what I told myself. Panicked, I started to make a mental inventory of all of the other ways that I could cut back, did I really need a 2-bedroom apartment? My truck was over ten years old, could I even turn a profit if I sold it?

Morgan shot me a sympathetic look. “I suggest that you take care of this now rather than later. Also, we need to discuss custody.”

I nodded. I tried to look resolute even though my palms were starting to sweat, I wiped them on my jeans trying to be as discreet as possible.

“Now, as his uncle and someone who knows him well, you have a case. But, since his biological father is also in a financially stable situation, he has a case as well.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that you’ll have to prove that you are a more fit parent than Micah, and this means that you can’t give his lawyers any ammunition. Make sure your personal life is in order. You’re not married, correct?”

“No, I’m not married. What does that have to do anything?” I snapped, the fluorescent lighting of the law office was doing little to help my already worsening hangover.

Morgan sighed. “I didn’t mean to offend you or anything. It’s just, sometimes in custody cases, judges like to know that you have some sort of support system. Now, it doesn’t have to be a spouse, but it will probably look better, you know it’ll give you a sense of stability, especially when compared to Micah’s ‘party boy’ lifestyle.”.

“I’ll consider it,” I said dryly.

“It’s just something that we want to make sure people are aware of. Now, speaking of stability, how’s your house? Is everything up to code? Have you child-proofed anything, bought any baby gates?”

I shook my head. Ross had been with me for about four days, I’d barely had any time to shower let alone think about childproofing. I thought of my house, with all of its outlets and cabinets, seemingly ordinary household objects which were suddenly transformed into toddler deathtraps.

Morgan saw the confusion on my face. “Again, don’t freak out, it’s just something that you should get done sooner rather than later. Now, I’d like to meet with you again in a couple weeks after I get in touch with Micah’s lawyers, okay?”

I nodded, rubbing my forehead. “Is there anything else that you need from me? I kinda need to go take care of Lindsey’s mortgage payment.”

“No, that’s it for today.” Morgan clapped a hand onto my shoulder. “Good luck, Ben.”

Luck? I’d need a hell of a lot more than luck. “Thanks, Morgan.”

I was going to text Micah about going with me to pick up Ross, but then I remembered that I didn’t have a car. I called another Lyft so I could return to the bar, this was somehow worse than any walk of shame I’d ever done.

I walked into the bar and Clyde greeted me with a lazy salute. “You looking for these?” Clyde asked, jingling my car keys.

“Yeah, how did you. . .?” Most of last night was a blur, but I could have sworn that Micah grabbed my keys for me.

“Micah gave them to me and said you’d be here to pick your car up in the morning.” Clyde smiled, “He’s a great friend. I’m glad you boys are talking again.” He slid my keys to me across the bar.

“Yeah, Micah’s an … okay guy.” I spied a tap full of craft beer behind Clyde, and it was barely noon but between the recent stress of Lindsey’s mortgage, the heat of the summer, and my hangover, nothing sounded better than an ice-cold beer.

“Hey, what do you have on tap today?” I asked, trying to remain casual.

“Uh oh, I’m not letting you drink and drive twice in 24 hours,” Clyde chastised.

“Relax Clyde, I just want one beer I’m not trying to get drunk, I just need a little something to take the edge off.”

“Rough morning?” Clyde asked, leaning an elbow on the counter.

“Yeah, I met with Lindsey’s lawyer today and apparently she was three months behind on her mortgage so now I have to pay it off.”

Clyde visibly cringed. “And you just found out about this today?”

“Yeah, I was her co-signer but she never mentioned anything about financial trouble and now between this and Ross’ custody hearings, I’m gonna be sucked dry.” Clyde grabbed a glass and filled it with a delicious looking amber ale.

“Okay Ben, that definitely calls for a drink. But only one, I don’t want to keep your keys for another day,” He set the glass down next to me.

“Thanks for understanding.” I downed half the glass and let the cool fizz of an IPA briefly staunch my ever-growing avalanche of personal and financial problems, if only for today.

Micah

Later that day, Ben texted me to let me know that Ross was back and settled at his house and I could come over to meet him at any time. I put on a fresh shirt, then laughed at myself for trying to dress to impress a 3-year-old, and hopped into the car that I ended up renting. After last night’s bar hopping expedition and attempting to explain to the Lyft driver that I wanted him to drop us off at two separate destinations, I decided to rent a car and spent the morning hungover in line at Hertz, wishing I had a disgustingly good greasy breakfast sandwich to soak up all of the excess alcohol.

I texted Ben to let him know that I was on the way to his house and to double-check the address, then I drove down the winding suburban roads that I hadn’t even considered since high school. I pulled up to Ben’s house and idled in the driveway. After my time in L.A., it seemed like nothing could make me nervous. I’d stared down everyone from directors to Liam Neeson’s personal assistant with a calm rivaling that of a meditation guru. Yet, here I was terrified to meet a child. I told myself to get it together and walked up to Ben’s front door, ringing the doorbell with a pit of dread in my stomach.

“Hey,” Ben said gruffly. He looked a little rougher than usual, even in his normal jeans and flannel combo.

“Hey stranger, rough morning?” I joked.

“You could say that, I—” he was cut off by a shrill, loud voice, yelling, “Uncle Ben?”

“Ross?” I asked.

Ben nodded. “He’s hanging out in the living room.”

I followed him inside and slipped my shoes off. “Should I like, say anything?”

“No, just be yourself,” Ben reassured me. He walked up to a kid who was sitting in the middle of the room, wearing overalls surrounded by an array of blocks, stuffed animals, and plastic trucks. He had curly jet-black hair and Lindsey’s aquiline nose. He stared up at Ben with huge, blue eyes that were unmistakably mine, it was weird … like I was literally looking at a small copy of myself and Lindsey, each of our features were present in this tiny human. We were related, no doubt about it. I felt a rush of what most parenting books or sappy greeting cards would describe as the “indisputable love between parent and child” but also fascination, who was this tiny human? Did he have likes? Dislikes? A favorite food? Did he also think that cilantro tasted like soap, was he afraid of spiders like Lindsey? After moving to L.A. I’d found people in my hometown to be insufferably boring, but I’d never been so excited to get to know someone.

Ben walked over to Ross and crouched down to meet his eye level. “Hey, buddy,” he said gently.

“There’s someone that I want you to meet.”

“Truck?” Ross asked, running a plastic truck over Ben’s foot.

“We can play with trucks later. I want you to meet my friend, Micah. He’s your dad.” Ben was always straightforward.

“Dad?” Ross asked. I waved sheepishly from across the room, feeling like a complete dork.

“Yeah, he’s over there.” Ben pointed to me. “You can go say hi if you want.”

Ross walked across the room, staring at me intently. He made the exact same expression that Lindsey would make whenever she met someone new; he was scoping me out. “Hi, Ross! It’s so nice to meet you.” I crouched down to meet him at eye level and stuck out my hand, immediately regretting treating a toddler like a significantly smaller business associate.

“Hi,” Ross said. We stared at each other in contemplative silence, almost like we were having a staring contest. Ben hung back, watching the scene unfold. It was now that I realized I’d never had an actual conversation with a child, I had no idea what I was supposed to say. What did I have in common with a three-year-old? No, what did I have in common with my son?

“What does he like?” I asked, looking back at Ben for reassurance.

“Ask him yourself, he can hear,” Ben stage-whispered.

“Ross, what do you like?” I asked.

Ross studied the shag carpet, then my shoes. “Trucks!” he declared.

I nodded. “Can I see some of your trucks?”

“They’re over there.” Ross grabbed my hand with surprising confidence and led me to his pile of toys.

“Wow,” I said, feigning awe at the piles of plastic. “Um. . .” I paused. I knew absolutely nothing about trucks, I never even saw the appeal of them when I was a kid, and that was decades ago. “Do you have a favorite?”

Ross nodded gravely, pointing to a large, bright yellow dump truck that was full of blocks.

“Oh cool,” I said.

Ben walked over to us, smiling. “It’s nice to see the two of you getting along. Ross, buddy, are you getting hungry? We should probably eat lunch soon.”

“PB&J,” Ross said pointedly.

“Yeah, I can make you a sandwich!” Ben said.

“Wait, do you want me to take him to lunch so you can have a bit of a break?” I volunteered. “Some time to yourself?”

Ben immediately looked apprehensive. “No, Micah it’s okay.”

“Why? All you could talk about last night was how you needed some time to yourself,” I reminded him.

“Yeah, but. I just don’t think it’s a good idea right now.”

“Why not?” I asked.

“It’s just, you’re still getting to know each other and going out alone with a toddler is a lot more responsibility than you would think.”

I frowned, Ben was basically calling me stupid. He clearly didn’t think that I was equipped with the mental faculties to handle a toddler, but here he was bumbling through parenthood looking like a cartoon lumberjack. Ben was such a hypocrite.

This morning, I’d finally cracked and called my sister Julie to let her know that I was back home. Of course, she was stunned to learn that Lindsey and I had a kid. When I’d brought up the idea that I might get partial or even full custody of Ross, she’d laughed out loud.

“Micah, you can’t even take care of a goldfish, let alone a child that you’ve never met before!” she’d scoffed.

“Why not? Why is it so ridiculous that I’m a father?”

“Because, when you were eleven you killed my hermit crab while I was at summer camp, and the last time I let you babysit my kid, you lasted exactly twenty minutes before calling me and crying about how stressed you were.”

Now, I was furious. First I had to put up with Julie parading all of my care-giving failures in front of me, and now Ben wanted to lecture me about how I was too incompetent to wrangle a toddler alone for the least important meal of the day.

Clearly, Ben could see that I was upset. “But, I think it would be cool if we all went out to lunch together. Right, Ross?”

Ross nodded enthusiastically. “I’ll get backpack,” he said, scampering down the hall.

I mouthed, “What?” to Ben as I watched Ross run.

“He’s got this thing with his backpack, he has to take it with him everywhere. I don’t think it’s like a grief thing or anything, he did this with Lindsey all the time, too. But, see, this is what I mean. Kids are complicated and you have a lot to learn.”

“Well, I’m trying to learn. There’s no need to be so pedantic,” I said.

“I’m not trying to be … whatever you said. It’s just—” Before he could finish explaining himself Ross appeared with a small blue canvas backpack covered in drawings of monkeys.

“Alright, now go get your shoes on and then we can all go to lunch, and maybe the children’s museum,” Ben said excitedly.

For lunch, we all sat outside on the beautiful back patio of a local bistro. Ross and I bonded by offering some of his french fries to all of the birds that we saw.

“You have to break it into tiny pieces,” I explained.

“Why?” Ross asked.

“Because these birds are tiny, they can’t carry a whole big french fry back to their friends.”

“Oh,” Ross said. He broke a french fry in half and flung it at a small brown bird, who pecked at the remains with their beak.

“See? They like it,” I said.

“Actually, they don’t. Ross, you shouldn’t feed the birds it encourages them to eat people food which isn’t healthy for them,” Ben chastised.

I mouthed ‘buzzkill’ to him, and then my phone buzzed. It was Antoni, he hadn’t called me since I landed back home so I figured it was important.

“It’s my agent, I better take this. Hello? Antoni?”

“Micah, it’s your agent, Antoni. Where the hell have you been, kid?” he grumbled.

“Antoni, of course I know it’s you — I, I’m back home for the week, remember? Lindsey?”

“Ah sure, sure. How’s that going? Did you meet your love child?”

“Yes, I did. We’re actually at lunch right now so this better be important.”

“Carson, I’ll let you get back to your frickin’ Happy Meal in a couple minutes. But, listen to me. It’s about Hot Law. They’ve expedited the screen tests, Justus Garrett peed in an ice bucket full of Vevue Clicquot at a club last night so he’s not up for the part anymore. They want you, Micah, and they want you to come in and meet with the director next week or else they’re going to give the part to someone else. I tried to tell them that you’re away on personal business but they didn’t care. You have to get down here, or else.”

My mouth was agape. I had the part! But did I have to leave now? “I-uh-wow. So, I have the part?”

“Micah, you have the part if you can get down here in two days. I’m serious,” Antoni said.

Ross was still busy feeding birds, but Ben saw the look on my face and heard my shocked rambling.

“Whatever this is, you should go,” he said. “You’ve wanted to be an actor since you were fourteen. If you have a chance like this, you should go. It’s what Lindsey would have wanted.”

I sighed. Tina Fey was right, it was truly impossible for stars to manage fame and family! But then again, would I ever get the chance to manage fame again if I didn’t take this meeting? I deliberated in my head for a few minutes.

“Micah, you still there?” Antoni asked.

“Yeah, I’m still here. I’ll go, this is too good of a chance to pass up.”

“Damn straight it is. And good, I already booked you a flight and emailed you the confirmation. You get into LAX at noon on Friday.”

“What would I do without you Antoni?” I joked.

“Why Micah, you’d still be spinning a sandwich board on sunset boulevard. Now, I gotta go and tell Lawrence Owens that you said you’ll be back here for the meeting. Good talk, kid. Enjoy fatherhood, I gotta go make you a star.” Antoni yelled for his assistant then hung up abruptly. I stuffed my phone back into my pocket, smiling.

“Good news?” Ben asked.

“Yeah, I guess. My agent wants me back in L.A. because CBS wants to hire me to be the lead in their new legal drama. I have to meet with the director, and then start talking about a contract for a 13-episode season.” I explained, getting ahead of myself.

“That’s great, Micah. Really.”

“I—I’ll be right back. Like I’m still going to be around, I just need to take this meeting.”

“Micah, it’s fine. Everyone has to balance parenting with work, don’t worry about it.” Ben was surprisingly reassuring.

“Yeah, and I mean, I guess it’d be cool for Ross to see L.A.,” I suggested.

“Why would he need to go to L.A.?” Ben scoffed. “Disneyland? He’s three, he’s not going to remember it or anything.”

“Yeah, but it could be nice for him to get used to California. You know, so it’s not such a shock to him to have to split his time between two places once we figure out custody. If he goes with me now, it won’t be this big, scary trip.” Julie had lectured me on the phone this morning about how parenting was about responsibility, and letting your kid check out their potential new home before you move there seemed pretty responsible to me. Ben, however, was less than amused.

“What makes you think that you’ll get to just ship him off to L.A.?” Ben asked incredulously.

“Because, I’m his father and he has every right to be with me.”

“Micah, fatherhood is a lot of responsibility.”

“I know that! Why does everyone keep acting like I’m oblivious to the fact that you need to look after children?!”

“Because, you’ve been his father for one day. And fatherhood takes a lot more than just being someone’s lunch buddy and playing with trucks.”

“The birds fight,” Ross interjected, pointing to a group of birds squabbling over his french fries, which he had flung across the patio.

“I—what? You did all of that in what, five minutes?” I asked. I’d barely taken my eyes off of him and he practically turned his kids meal into an edible frisbee.

“You know part of being a responsible parent is actually watching the kid,” Ben quipped.

“You were lecturing me when you could have been watching him,” I shot back.

“Micah, you’re being a child.” Don’t call me crazy but I swear I saw him smile a bit as he said this, reaching for the check.

Children were loud, I always forgot that. Most of the patrons of the Children’s Museum were under the age of five and screeching at an ear-splitting volume as they climbed over a variety of indoor jungle-gyms and play structures. There was an area where kids could serve food at a pretend cafe, a gigantic sand table, and a small pool that allowed kids to make bubbles in a variety of shapes. Ross was intently digging a hole in over at the sand table, trying to find as many small toys and shells as possible.

“He loves digging for some reason, he destroyed Lindsey’s garden a couple weeks ago,” Ben said with a laugh. “Lindsey told him that dandelions are weeds so he thought that meant that any flower is a weed, so he pulled out her hydrangeas. Lindsey was furious.”

I laughed. “I bet Lindsey threatened to disown him.”

“Sort of,” Ben chuckled.

Near the back of the museum, a docent stepped up onto a small stage. “Alright kids, our Sid the Science kid performance will begin in 10 minutes! So head on over if you want to have some fun and learn!” She deadpanned, clearly unamused by her job.

I turned to Ross, who was still deeply invested in digging holes. “Hey Ross, do you like theater?” I asked, pointing to the stage. He looked up from his task, clearly intrigued.

“Wanna go watch the show with me?” I offered him my hand. He took it, and we walked back towards the stage, which was surrounded by rows of wooden benches. I found us a seat near the front. Ben however, hung behind looking aloof.

“You coming, Ben?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Nah, puppets and children’s theater kind of freak me out. You guys go, I’ll keep an eye on the sand table.”

“Okay, now I know who I shouldn’t invite to West Side Story for kids,” I joked, sitting down on the bench. I scooted over so Ross could sit next to me, and he obliged, kicking his legs in the air as he sat.

“Puppets are creepy, they have soulless eyes,” Ben reasoned from afar. I almost laughed out loud but then the curtains parted and the house lights dimmed.

“Hi kids, I’m Sid!” A young woman who looked like she picked up this job between college classes stepped onstage wearing goggles and a lab coat. A stagehand wheeled a small cart full of beakers and puppets out beside her.

“Today we’re going to learn about the ocean! Can anyone tell me what color the ocean is?”

The crowd was silent and unamused, but then Ross piped up: “It’s blue!”

Sid nodded. “That’s right! Now, the ocean is full of all sorts of animals. There are over 20,000 species of fish living in the ocean right now. And, scientists discover anywhere between 150 and 200 new species of fish, and 1,700 new species of plants and animals every year. Now, can anyone name a plant or an animal that might live in the ocean?” Sid spoke pedantically.

“An octopus! A sea otter! A Nemo fish! A seaweed,” Ross piped.

Sid nodded enthusiastically. “Yes! All of these plants and animals live in the ocean! Now, since you’re so smart would you like to come up onstage and pick out a special fish toy and maybe help me out with our experiment for today? We’re gonna blow bubbles!” Ross looked back at me apprehensively, as if he needed my reassurance.

“If you have a grown-up friend they can come up with you,” Sid added upon seeing Ross’ nervous expression.

“I’ll go with you,” I said, offering my hand. We walked up onstage together, Ross’s face lit up once he saw the variety of sparkly fish puppets that were available for his perusal.

“Which one do you want?” Sid asked gently. Ross pawed his way through the basket of puppets.

“Wait, Micah Carson?” Sid stage-whispered eyeing me through her safety goggles.

“Oh my god! Sidney Leighton?” I whispered back. I hooked up with Sidney Leighton in the prop room during our sophomore year production of Cats. I could still taste the grease of her theater-grade lipstick.

Sid nodded. “Yeah! Are you still acting?”

“Yeah, I actually just got cast in Hot Law,” I whispered.

Ross tapped me on the shoulder. “I like this one,” he said smiling and clutching a green sparkly turtle.

“Wow, cool buddy!” I said.

Sid smiled. “Okay, now it’s time to make some bubbles!” Sid walked over to her cart and pulled out a bucket and various bottles full of liquids.

“Alright, now we need to pour 1/4 cup of water.” Sid unscrewed the cap. “Do you want to help me?” she asked Ross. He nodded, and gleefully dumped the water in the bucket.

“Now we need 1 and 1/4 cups of dish soap.” She pulled out a bottle of dish soap and a measuring cup. “Who wants to help me pour this? Micah?” She asked, eyeing me.

“Uh, sure,” I said. I squeezed the dish soap into the measuring cup.

“What the hell, Micah? Is that your kid?” Sid asked gesturing to Ross, who looked on mesmerized as I dumped the first cup of dish soap into the bucket.

“I guess?” I whispered back.

“What do you mean, ‘you guess’? It’s pretty easy to figure out,” Sid said, pouring the rest of the dish soap into the bucket. “Now, can you stir it?” Sid asked Ross, grabbing a spoon from her cart.

Ross nodded excitedly, dunking the spoon into the bucket. “Nah buddy, you have to stir it like this,” I demonstrated. “You have to go in circles.”

“Now,” Sid said, “We need 1 and 1/4 teaspoons of glycerin. And I’ll do this one because teaspoons can be tricky. Now, can anyone tell me if a teaspoon is bigger or smaller than a cup?”

“Bigger!” a random kid shouted from the audience.

“That’s a good guess, but no, teaspoons are smaller. Now we mix everything together and,” Sid whipped her cart around quickly replacing the bucket with an identical one. “This has to sit for 24 hours so I always just use the mix from yesterday’s show,” Sid whispered conspiratorially to me. I nodded, pretending to care yet grateful that I was no longer subjected to the crafty humiliations of children’s theater.

“What kind of bubbles do you want to make?” Sid asked turning to Ross, pointing to a variety of wands.

“We have stars, big bubbles, teeny tiny bubbles,” Sid explained as Ross looked on awestruck.

“Stars!” Ross yelled. Together, he and Sid dipped the wand into the vat of bubbles and pulled, watching as star-shaped bubbles appeared, sparkling under the stage lights.

“Wow,” Ross said appreciatively.

Sid nodded. “Now that’s it for today, kids! Thanks for learning with me! Now, let’s give a big hand to our volunteers! What’s your name?” Sid asked Ross.

“Ross!” Ross screeched confidently.

“Give it up for Ross,” Sid said. Ross beamed, clearly relishing in the applause.

“Here Ross, go like this,” I bowed and waved, and he followed suit.

“Also, give it up for Micah! We went to school together!” Sid exclaimed.. I blushed suddenly feeling like I was auditioning for high school theater again.

Eventually, the crowd spilled out into the rest of the museum. I hopped off stage, and held out my arms to Ross, who climbed down and wrapped his arms around my neck.

“Great job buddy, you’re a natural up there!” I exclaimed. Sid, who was busy packing up her cart full of beakers and props, took off her safety glasses and undid her tight ponytail.

“Don’t forget your prize!” she said handing Ross his stuffed turtle.

“Ross, say thank you,” I prompted.

“Thanks,” Ross mumbled shyly.

“Ross, how did you get up in front of all of those people? You’re so brave!” Ben bounded up to the stage beaming.

“Look!” Ross said, proudly displaying his turtle.

“Wow, that’s so cool,” Ben said.

“You might want to watch out, it’s a puppet,” I joked.

Sid’s eyes widened once she saw Ben. “Ben Benson?” she exclaimed smiling.

“Sidney Owens? It’s great to see you! How long have you been working here?” Ben asked.

“A couple years now, it’s my job between seasons at the community theater. What brings you to the museum?” Sid asked.

“I’m just here with my nephew,” Ben said.

“Your nephew? I thought he was Micah’s …” Sidney trailed off, confused.

“He’s my sister Lindsey’s kid. Micah was the sperm donor,” Ben explained. Sidney’s expression suddenly turned grave.

“Wait, didn’t your sister. . .?”

“Yeah, we’re just trying to keep things a little normal around here,” Ben cut her off quickly before she could finish.

“Oh, well you’re doing a great job with this one,” Sidney said, smiling at Ross.

Ben nodded, “He makes my job pretty easy.” Ben scooped up Ross into his arms, smiling.

“For sure, well I have to pack up everything and get ready for an audition tonight. It was great to see both of you. Bye Ross!” Sidney waved bye and continued to pack up the rest of her set.

After the museum, we took Ross to go get ice cream. Ben and Ross happily munched ice cream cones while I sat, sipping water because I had to meet with my director in two days.

“Ross really was a natural up there,” Ben commented.

“I know! You really should look into signing him up for some children’s theater classes. I taught a couple back in L.A. and I think Ross would really like them. They’re not really focused on the actual production of plays at this age, it’s more just like creative movement exercises and learning how to work with other people.”

“Yeah, I guess that would be cool.”

“Is Ross signed up for any activities? Like, soccer or T-Ball? Does he like sports? Or music? I started playing the piano when I was four and I loved it.”

Ben shrugged. “I mean Lindsey was going to sign him up for soccer in the spring but I haven’t really thought about it. He’s only three.”

“Yeah, but it’s still important that he learns how to socialize with other kids. Especially if he’s going to be in pre-school in the fall,” I pointed out.

Ben looked down dejectedly for a moment. “I mean I didn’t really do any activities when I was a kid. My dad couldn’t really afford it, I had to get a scholarship to be on the football team in high school. And, I’m pretty sure I turned out fine.”

I heard a defensive edge in Ben’s voice. I realized that Ben could have seen this as an implicit judgment in his parenting choices, rather than a suggestion. I quickly tried to cover for myself.

“I mean he doesn’t have to do anything, I just think we should explore the options,” I said. He remained silent. “You’ve obviously done a great job with Ross,” I reassured him.

Ben smiled. “It was all Lindsey. I’m just the cool uncle.”

“Well, you’re probably the world’s best uncle.”

My phone buzzed, it was Antoni. “Hey Carson. I talked to Lawrence Owens. Is there any way that you could get here Thursday morning instead of Thursday night? Lawrence wants to do an 11 A.M. meeting.”

Ben noticed my concerned expression. “Micah, if you need to leave, you can leave. I can take care of Ross. I appreciate that you spent the day with us, but I understand if you have work stuff.”

I rolled my eyes, irritated. “I’m sick of people thinking that I’m just going to bail. It’s like, people already think that I’m a terrible dad, but they aren’t even giving me a chance to be a dad!”

“Micah, you’ve been here for a day. Parenting isn’t just fun days out. It’s hard, it’s sick days, it’s parent-teacher conferences, it’s long-term,” Ben said.

“I want to be long term.”

“Do you, though? Because you say that but you drop everything the minute your agent texts you. If you’re going to choose your career over Ross, I’d prefer that you’d do it now rather than later. I don’t want Ross to bond with you and then get confused the moment you leave because you have to go to L.A. or something. Ross already lost two parents, he doesn’t need to lose another one,” Ben snapped.

I scoffed. “Ben, I don’t know if you know this but people can have careers and take care of their kids at the same time. I can act and take care of Ross, actors aren’t childless monsters.”

“I’m not saying you’re a bad person Micah, I’m just saying that you’re not the most responsible person,” Ben said, trying to be diplomatic.

Now, I was just mad. Ben hadn’t seen me in years, how was he supposed to know whether or not I was responsible? He hadn’t seen me since high school, how could he be so close-minded to think that I hadn’t changed one bit since I was barely old enough to drive?

“Well, I’m not saying that you’re a judgmental dumbass, I’m just saying you’re being kind of a dick,” I shot back. I fished a $20 out of my wallet. “Enjoy your ice cream, I have to go talk to my agent.”

“Bye Ross,” I added quickly, then turned around and stormed out of the ice cream shop, letting the door slam behind me.