Chapter 48

Chapter Forty-Eight

Calvin

THREE MONTHS LATER

T omorrow is the big day. Gotcha day. When Chacha will legally become my son. I want to get a solid eight hours.

I tuck Chacha into his bed, He's as excited as I am. I turn off the light in his room, head to mine and crawl under the covers.

Filled with nervous energy, I try to calm my mind but there's too much swirling in my head. Did I remember to manage everything for tomorrow? I've called in for coverage and let Chacha's principal know he will be absent.

From what his teacher tells me, he is taking to school like a fish to water, quickly becoming the most popular kid in the kindergarten class. The other children want him on their soccer team at recess and to sit next to him during story time. It brings me joy knowing he's acclimating so well. Kids, it turns out, are resilient. Far more than us stodgy adults.

It's been a hectic few months with Christmas, New Year's, pop-up visits from the social worker, finding a pediatrician I am happy with, getting Chacha settled in school. Somehow, I did it all.

Satisfied that I'm set for tomorrow, other thoughts infiltrate my mind. Namely, of Caroline.

The time stranded in Sugarbush Falls reminded me of what is truly important, putting things in perspective for the kind of life I want for me and Chacha. Slower, more focused on the important things.

I scroll through my messages, finding the information Aunt Pearl sent me about Burlington General. She mentioned they opened a new wing. I navigate to the website and take a look. I tell myself it's only for research purposes. I have a good job here, a fine apartment. And it would be so far from . . . Caroline.

Seeing her distraught in my home was a swift kick in the gut. But as much as I want to work out the impasse, I have no way to solve it.

Twice, I've taken the long way home via Central Park West, past the Dakota building, hoping for a glimpse of her. I stopped the day Chacha asked me, "Think we'll see her today?"

"Who?" I'd replied, realizing he was onto me.

Chacha gave me his now signature ‘are you kidding' look followed by the ‘trying hard to be patient with Dense Dad' voice. "Miss Caroline Page."

I answered with a sheepish, "I hope so," deciding that teaching my son to be a stalker may not be prize-winning parenting.

The incident served as a reality check. I need to focus on the joy in my life, not the heartbreak. My future is as a dad. A single dad.

I reach for the bedside lamp to turn off the light when I hear footsteps.

Chacha is in the doorway, his eyes as big as saucers, his blanket dragging on the floor behind him. The light I left on in the hallway illuminates him from behind.

I sit up. "Are you all right?" I ask.

"I can't sleep."

It's been two-and-a-half minutes since I left his room.

I pat the other side of my bed. He grabs the blanket then climbs up, making himself comfortable, one side of his head resting on my chest, facing me.

It occurs to me that his room must feel enormous, my small Manhattan apartment like a scary mansion.

"I like Caroline Page. She's pretty."

"She sure is."

"You like her too, right?"

"How do you know that?"

He furrows his brow. "I feel your heart beating like a stampeding wildebeest."

I peer at him. "Lion King?"

Chacha nods then closes his eyes.

"How did you get to be so smart?"

When there's no reply, I realize he has dozed off. Before I know it, so do I.