RUSE_Fake Marriage To The Single Dad Read online

  Still, I tried to be nice, giving her a warm smile when we broke off the embrace. It was her life, and it was none of my business in the long run. Other than her loose lifestyle, Michelle was really sweet when she wanted, her mean girl attitude only extending to those who really wronged her.

  “Stay safe, okay?” I said.

  Michelle giggled, then winked. I glanced at my side of the room one more time, the empty bed and bedside table giving me a slightly bittersweet feeling. But it wasn’t strong enough to make me stay, so I let her pull me out and accompany me out of campus. Michelle was a pretty popular girl, and we got stopped down the halls more than necessary as boys and girls alike tried to chat with her—and by extension, with me. I could tell they were curious about my packed bag, but Michelle waved it off and told them I just needed to go somewhere for a while. I was grateful for that, because I didn’t really want people knowing I dropped out and grilling me about it. I just wanted to leave as quietly as I could.

  I knew she was going to blab the moment I was out of sight, which was also why I let her accompany me. For the most part, the boys chatted longer than the girls, their eyes roaming her low, tight tank top and short denim skirt. She flirted with the cute ones, got asked out on dates and openly kissed one of them with a needy little moan before winking at him and telling him she’d meet him in the library later. Hah. Code name for shelf sex.

  Some of the boys also looked at me—or rather, their gazes lingered on my chest, which was still obvious despite my loose shirt. Michelle had always been envious of my chest, calling it the ripest tits she’d ever seen and wanting herself to have them so she could have more boys asking her out. I couldn’t figure out the fascination—but to each her own, I guess.

  One of the boys, Oscar, stopped in front of us and smirked at me.

  “Hey, Rachel. Are you going on vacation?”

  “Yeah,” I said, keeping it vague. I glanced at Michelle, who was busy flirting with Oscar’s buddy.

  Oscar stepped closer, his eyes hooded. There was a subtle gaze towards my chest before he stared into my eyes, appearing to look sincere. “I’m having a party tonight at our frat house. It will be all fun and a way to de-stress before the exams next week. I was hoping you could come.”

  The last frat party I’d been to, it was Michelle who dragged me to go. It was the same fraternity house as the one Oscar was inviting me to now, and I could still vividly remember how he was locking lips with a freshman and squeezing her tits while sitting on some couch. He also had his other hand down her skirt. Oscar had spotted me staring in shock, subtly removing himself from the situation and approaching me to invite me to the basement to check out some video games. He explained how the basement was empty and we could take all our time with the said video games.

  I had never declined so fast in my life, but it had been much harder to slip out of there. Michelle had insisted I drink, but then she got too drunk herself to keep insisting, and soon it became a wild night of alcohol and people having sex in whatever corner they could find. It was then that I finally got to slip out, crashing into bed at one in the morning. At three, Michelle had stumbled in with some frat guy, where they proceeded to keep drinking at her bed before having sloppy sex.

  Recalling all that now, I gave Oscar a smile. “I’ll try.”

  Then I sidestepped his attempt at a hug and pulled Michelle.

  We finally reached the end of the school halls, which led to the parking lot. I found my dad’s pickup truck already waiting for me there, and for the first time in a long time, I felt excitement surge inside me. I turned to Michelle and gave her one final hug.

  “You stay safe, okay?” I said. “Don’t let some guy break your heart.”

  Michelle laughed. “You know I’m always safe.”

  I think we were both thinking about different kinds of safe, but I let it go. With a wave, I hauled my stuff on the backseat before slipping in the front and turning to my dad.

  Dan Glasgow reached out to give me a hug, and I kissed his cheek in return.

  “Hi, Dad.”

  “Hey, sweetheart.” He looked at me for a few seconds, taking me in. “You look healthy.”

  I laughed and shot him an amused look. “Were you expecting me to look too thin and terrible?”

  My dad chuckled. “You know how college gets. I’m just glad you haven’t succumbed to spending all your money on clothes and eating instant ramen every day.”

  I shook my head. “Dad, you know I’ll never spend my allowance that much.” This time, I shot him a guilty look. “I’m sorry for this, by the way.”

  But he shook his head back. “Don’t be.” My dad looked at me a few more times, studying me. “Are you sure you’re okay with dropping out? It’s your decision in the long run.”

  Was I sure of leaving college for good? Leaving my education behind? It was a difficult question to answer, really. I had good grades at school—but not out of enthusiasm, because none of the classes really interested me. In truth, the real reason I was leaving was because I just wanted to be away—away from the university’s overly sexualized people, the nightly drinking parties, the occasional drugs, and the peer pressure. I hadn’t given in yet, but I was afraid I was going to if I stayed there for too long.

  And I was afraid what it was going to do to me.

  But I didn’t want my family worrying about it. If there were any regrets in the future, it was going to be mine to handle alone.

  So I turned to him and gave him a firm nod, then a bright smile.

  “Yes, Dad. Let’s go home.”

  Our little town in Massachusetts, Spring Hills, was located just an hour and a half from the university, so it didn’t take me and my dad long to reach town. We stopped by the church to light some candles, then drove home. Nostalgia hit me the moment the pickup truck was being parked in the driveway, and I got out with a sense of freedom as I looked at the front of our house.

  My family and I were middle-class, and as the youngest of three siblings and the only one still in school, that meant we could afford most things these days. Still, that didn’t mean we took advantage. My older brother and older sister had work as a bank manager and social worker respectively, and their respective partners were both lawyers. I was the only one who wasn’t married and the only one who still managed to visit town, but I also had a scholarship that helped ease the tuition fees.

  At least, I used to have a scholarship. That was shot down the drain, too, the moment I decided to drop out.

  When I entered the familiar living room, I was met by my mom’s warm hug. Norma Glasgow’s hair was now graying a bit, but I still think she looked as lovely as ever. I hugged her just as tightly as I hugged my dad, then let her lead me towards the dining room, where she already had food prepared for our lunch. The smell wafted enticingly in the air, reminding me of home more than anything else.

  The three of us gathered at the table, just like old times. We prayed before the meal, something that was instilled in me and I’d even done quietly when I ate in the cafeteria back at the university. Then I dug in, practically ravenous over my mom’s fried chicken and coleslaw. She was originally from the South, and she brought the food tradition with her and made eating at home so much better. This was one of the things we looked forward to especially during special occasions, when my siblings came home with my nieces and nephews and we had a grand reunion.

  My dad asked me what I planned to do now that college wasn’t an option. I told him I’d think about it, then went up to my room to unpack my stuff. Mom had renovated the walls, replacing the pale pink wallpaper with fresh off-white paint, and I thought it looked better. It didn’t take me long to put my stuff back in their original place, considering I only really brought my clothes and books to school with me. When all was done, I lay in bed and just stared at the ceiling, my decision going over and over in my mind before I finally decided to succumb to the want to take a long nap.

  Rest now, think some more later.

&
nbsp; The next day, I decided to head back over to our local church and pay a visit to the pastor—a kind, middle-aged man named Elton Jon. He needed some help with segregating some donations given by the churchgoers, and I volunteered while he attended to some activities and meetings. It was a quiet time altogether as I just sat on the pastor’s office’s long table and sorted through the envelopes, placing them in their designated boxes and tidying the place up when I was done. Fr. Elton came back a few hours later, bringing me packaged food and thanking me for the help, as the local boy usually assigned to do said tasks was sick with the flu.

  “It’s no problem, Fr.,” I said, warmly.” Just let me know if you’re short-staffed and need help anytime, okay?”

  “I definitely will. Thank you, dear.”

  He invited me to participate in the bake sale that was going to be held in a few days, and I enthusiastically said I would go, with plans of what to bake already in mind. In the end I decided on cream cheese brownies, something that I often baked and got myself lost in while doing so. I bought the ingredients in advance, then settled in the kitchen on the day of the sale, starting early and already finishing a batch by the time my mom was awake. She offered to help, but I told her I was good and had her try them out, then slipped in some time to cook her and dad some waffles. Cooking and baking were two of the few things I was good at, and I always felt comforted whenever I mixed cooking ingredients and saw the finished results.

  I made five batches in total, left some for my parents and me to eat later, then boxed the rest and hurried over to the bake sale. There were already plenty of delicacies on display on the front yard by the time I got there, and I knew my mom also planned to put in a lemon pie or two later. Most of those still near my age weren’t around, and it mostly had to do with the school term being not done yet.

  Twenty minutes in the bake sale, I realized what a mistake it was to show myself this early to people who knew me since I was a kid. Curiosity was normal, but since they all knew me for too long already, they didn’t hold back on the questions about my presence here. I evaded anything that had me telling them about my actual decision yet, because the only people who knew were my family for now. In the end, I settled for an excuse about finishing my studies early, because it was partly the truth—I finished it and wouldn’t be returning.

  When I got home late, my parents were still at the sale and helping out with the cleanup. I took a quick, hot shower to relieve my aching muscles before I donned a loose shirt and shorts, then opened my laptop.

  I was excused from actually doing anything this week, because I was still adjusting to life back home. But what about next week? What was going to happen to me?

  Where was my life going?

  Frankly, I had no idea, and thinking about it only gave me a headache. But one thing was for sure: I couldn’t stay here for too long and rely on my parents’ money to get me through. I needed to save some of my own for the rainy days, and the only way to do so was to find a job.

  There were lots of ads on the internet for work for all kinds of skills, but I narrowed the search down to nearby areas. There was a wanted ad for a barista in Spring Hills itself, but I didn’t have a license. Besides, I didn’t think it was a good idea to find work in this town, where although the people were nice, I knew there would be plenty of gossip and speculation, and I’d be the hot topic and the so-called disappointment in a family of achievers. My family was understanding, even my siblings, though said siblings were baffled at my current life choices. But not everyone was going to be, hence it was better to start anew in another place altogether.

  A few more clicks got me a mechanic, teacher, and short order cook vacancies in several nearby towns. I smiled when I saw that a librarian position was vacant back at my college, but skipped that, too. I didn’t have any experience with the available posts, and I didn’t want to be a failure on my first job.

  Just as I was about to call it a night and resume browsing tomorrow morning, the last ad caught my attention.

  I glanced back at it, then read the requirements. A single dad needed a stay-in nanny for his nine-year-old daughter. He was vague about his job but mentioned that his daughter needed to be taken care of while he was focusing on his work. He even listed the requirements, like knowing how to drive to and from school, and some basic cooking skills. I could drive and I could definitely cook, so I glanced at the bottom to check the address.

  The town was in Little Stone, which was less than two hours from here. Perfect. There was an email address below the stated town, with instructions to email the guy if anyone was interested. I clicked on the email, composed a few sentences, then read it over.

  I wasn’t an expert in the nanny field, but I’d been babysitting my nieces and nephews since I was fifteen. I also babysat some kids in town for extra money, and have had no complaints so far. College had put a halt to those activities, but I didn’t think I would completely forget all that I’d learned.

  So I hit send.

  Then I crossed my fingers and hoped for the best.

  3

  Peter

  Jesus Christ.

  Not even an hour in town and Evelyn was already up my ass about her complaints regarding Isla.

  It was a great way to piss me off as I drove out of her mansion with Isla’s duffel bag in tow. It was a good thing Isla herself was still in school, because I didn’t think I could have controlled my temper and just kept silent as Evelyn retorted how our kid ruined her tea party at home by scandalizing the guests with her inappropriate actions. I didn’t get to asking what the said inappropriate actions were, because I didn’t think Isla had done something that involved alcohol or drugs or sex—three of the things that would be considered scandalous for someone her age.

  Evelyn always complained about our daughter. Our daughter. Her latest one, other than Isla’s so-called scandalous deed, was about how too early I was again in dropping the kid off and how it couldn’t happen again. She lamented something about how it disrupted her beauty sleep and made her too tired to face the day, and to take care of Isla on top of everything else. I did my best to explain again that my work just had that kind of crazy schedule, but Evelyn refused to listen, putting her foot down and shoving a schedule at me.

  “From now on, we follow this schedule. I don’t want you dropping Isla off anytime of the day or week unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

  Apparently, in my ex-wife’s vocabulary, my work wasn’t necessary.

  Again, sometimes I wondered why she still wanted to be a part of Isla’s life. But instead of picking a fight with her, I decided to just leave with Isla’s bag, knowing any fight we had would just get nowhere and leave a mess of things. That was just how things were with us, and I didn’t think it was going to change. We had different views and priorities, and that was that.

  A few minutes later, I was parking my car in front of Isla’s school and checking the kids walking out of the main hall. I spotted her right away: blonde hair flying behind her and blue eyes bright as she talked animatedly with the girl beside her. She glanced in my direction and did a double-take when she saw my black SUV. Then those blue eyes lit up, and she was running down the sidewalk and opening the passenger door.

  “Dad!” she screeched, excitedly. “You’re back!”

  I chuckled as Isla launched herself at me and hugged me tight. I hugged her back, the jolt of missing her rushing back to me. It had only been a week since I was gone, but it honestly felt like a lifetime. I felt all the irritation I was feeling disappear when I smelled her powdery scent, like it always did. When Isla scrambled back to her seat, I grinned at her and started the engine.

  “So how’s everything?” I asked.

  Isla, talker that she was, filled me in on everything that happened to her while I was gone, from school to ballet practice to making a new friend named Carrots, who was a rabbit she found in her mom’s garden. I stifled a laugh as she told me the tale of how she tried to hide Carrots in her room, but
said rabbit escaped and hopped around in the living room when her mom’s guests were there before hopping out of an open window and disappearing altogether. There was no need to ask about the scandalous thing, because I realized this had to be exactly what Evelyn was referring to.

  Solemnly, I explained to Isla that maybe Carrots wanted to be free and to just let her be. She nodded and confidently told me she thought so, too.

  “How was your time with your mom?” I asked, gently.

  Instead of being the chatty person she was, I watched as Isla’s bright gaze visibly dimmed. She shrugged.

  “It was okay,” she said. “There were lots of tea parties. I don’t get it. Tea tastes so bitter.”

  I couldn’t agree more on that, but I let her talk. Isla got to the part about her mother scolding her and punishing her to a day in her room after the rabbit incident, then some dinner incident where she tried to talk to her uncle Jack and got told to be quiet and eat her tofu salad. Jesus. What were these people feeding my kid?

  Still, I tried to keep a neutral ground. That was the thing about parenting: you never aired out your dirty laundry with your ex-wife.

  After a while, Isla turned to me. “Dad, I don’t want to be there for that long next time. I think I’ll just drive mom crazy. Is there any way you can work shorter hours?”

  I glanced at her. “I’ll do my best, Is.”

  “Or maybe I can come to your work with you.”

  Any other man would probably have been able to resist those big, pleading blue eyes—unfortunately, I wasn’t one of them. I gave her a reassuring smile.

  “We’ll think of something, sweetie.”

  Three weeks at home with Isla was pretty much the definition of bliss for me, and I did my best to bond with her. I drove her to and from school, often stayed to watch her ballet practice, went for long walks in our local park, and helped her with her homework. But our favorite activity had to be during the weekends, when we settled on the couch and watched kid-friendly movies. It was always accompanied by popcorn and ice cream, something I gave her as a treat to promote eating healthy during the weekdays. Then there were the bedtime stories, which helped Isla sleep better and widened her imagination.