Playdates and Permission Slips
Chapter One: Going For Broke
Logan sighed and shook his head at the catalog in his hands. Despite the brilliantly sunny spring day in the City that Never Sleeps, he could see doom and gloom ahead for his already thread bare wallet. He turned the page again. The first three pages were all soccer jerseys. Each one more bright and colorful that the last all following in the latest styles of form and function. Also each more expensive than the last.
He let out another groan. The next section was cleats. Logan rubbed his temples softly, looked up and waved at his daughter. She and her curls came bouncing over with Surfer Barbie in tow.
“Hi Daddy, what’s wrong? You look sad.” She climbed onto the bench next to him and patted his knee in a near patronizing way that warmed his heart. Suddenly the financial burden of extra curricular activities seemed slightly less.
“I ain’t sad, little darlin’,” he chided. “I just was a lookin’ at this stuff for you. I forget which one you said you liked.”
She looked up at her daddy and saw that he was looking at the soccer book like he hated it. Then she saw why. He was always complaining about not having enough money. She didn’t know how much he had, but he always made things appear for her, and made her look nice. None of her friends at her super nice school who lived in expensive [what where they called again…] townhouses knew that her Daddy [who could always beat up any one else’s] had money problems. Then she looked and pointed to a jersey that she knew would be too much of a problem for anyone.
“Laura, baby, are you sure? Cause the purple and orange kinda look…ugly.” Logan looked at the price right under her slightly chubby digit. Under forty bucks! He held in his sigh of relief.
“Daddy!” Laura let out a frustrated sigh that identically matched her father’s. “How many times do I have to tell you? A pretty girl can pull of any look. Besides, my friends will look awesome as we cream other teams in colors that hurt when you look at them. That’s two kinds of hurt in one, just like you taught me.” She flashed him that trademark smirk.
“So the other girls won’t mind?”
Laura cupped her hands together and called out her friends that where near the jungle gyms that were conveniently doubling over as a Barbie complex since the girls commandeered it from the boys twenty minutes ago.
The first one to rush over was Laura’s best friend Rachel. All red hair and energy, just like her mom, Logan thought when he tried to think non-nasty thoughts about the fiery M.I.L.F. that made Monday nights and the occasional Wednesday lunch…interesting. Too bad that wasn’t working. And technically, Jeannie wasn’t a Mom he’d like to fuck. She was a Mom and wife he was fucking…as was Room Mom Raven, School Play Costume Designer Sue, Principal Emma, and Heather, the wife that got away, sorta. Logan knew that eventually he would have to change his criteria of attractive women to single and unmarried, but tomorrow seemed like an excellent day to do that. Procrastination always looked good on him.
Change of topic. Change of topic. Change of topic….
Laura took the book from his hands and opened it up to the page of the jersey she saw and showed it to her friends, who also made up her soccer team. There was a unanimous vote that the orange and purple jerseys would be the team choice for this year.
All the girls went back to their spot in the park, and left Logan to muse buy himself about how the hell he still had to pay out the ass for his eight year old’s private school even though she had a scholarship. Sure Laura scored high enough to get a full ride to the extremely exclusive Institute for the Gifted, but she had friends who had nice things, and he would do every he could so that she wouldn’t feel left out. So that meant overtime and weekends, even though much of that monetary effort was eaten up in babysitters. He always gave thanks to Kitten and Jubee. They always were ready for Laura.
He leaned back and stretched out his legs and pushed up his sunglasses. The spring air called out to him and his legs wanted to feel the vibrations of his chopper. Those days were over, and he almost missed them. He recalled some of the horrid things that came along with them, and heard his daughter giggle. Nah, he didn’t miss them at all. The winds were calling, that‘s all. He sniffed the air and caught the local hot dog stand, cotton candy, perfume, and the feminine voices that it belonged to giggle. He slightly turned his head in that direction and caught a pretty blond in her stare, and her blush as she whispered to her friend who gave his physique an open approval. Just behind him he heard an older, and still doable, woman compliment him on being the only Dad at the park willing to put up with the traditional Mother and child atmosphere in the public park. Life was good now. He may even walk out of here with at least three numbers that he was planning on actually using…soon.
Of course as soon as he got comfortable he heard his daughter shriek and he heard the four stages of Killer Tears.
1.) The Silence.
2.) The long painful single sniffle
3.) The Wail
4.) The Tears.
He ran over to see what the problem was and found his daughter’s current new favorite doll in pieces under a high tech big wheel battery operated toy ATV.
Even though the question was completely redundant he asked it anyway, “What happened, Darlin’?”
Laura ran up to him and through herself at his knee and hugged it for all she was worth. The tears continued and so did her story that was completely non-understandable.
Apparently the boys who got beat from their jungle gym territory didn’t like it one bit. Instead of taking it in stride, they had laid in wait. While replenishing their remote controlled cars with new batteries, the attacked the girls and kept them running. The girls, caught in a surprise attack, drop the dolls and ran, which is exactly what the boys wanted. The cars trampled over the tiny clothes and accessories that had been laid out. Unfortunately, Laura had dropped her doll first, and therefore she was the first casualty. The teary response was all the boys wanted.
Rachel was the one to recant the story, since the other’s had been also mourning their loss too. The little red-head was just angry and indignant, mainly because her brother and his best friend had spear-headed the attack.
Logan turned around to the area right behind the sandbox. Sure enough just as he looked the smarter little boys turned around to whatever they were doing, but Nathan and his friend Lucas glared right back for a bit. Nathan was the smarter one to turn back around first, but Lucas actually raised his head and almost dared Logan to do something about all of this.
James Howlett, known casually as Logan, was never one to back down from a dare, ever. Not even from an eight year old.
“Excuse me, son, what did you do to my daughter’s things?”
There was a low snicker and some casual shrugs which only pissed off the former off the record military man. That was never a good thing.
Lucas looked at the man and seemed nonplussed. He had seem him around at the school doing stuff, talking to the teachers, and meeting with the principle. She always looked like she ran a mile when she came out of her office after meeting with him. Lucas was no dummy, he knew what was going on. He had told his mommy that, and she told him that one day that “tart principle of his” would get what was coming to her. So he assumed that this man was just as much of a “tart.”
He looked at the man and casually responded, “ I didn’t do anything wrong.”
Logan took out what was left on the Barbie and bent down to show the young boy. “How did tire tracks get on her toy?”
“An accident?”
“How so?”
“Well, she started it.”
“Excuse me? Look son, Lyin’ ain’t gonna get ya outta this.”
“I’m not! I can prove it too. MOOOOOOM!”
Logan groaned. This small problem was getting bigger and bigger. Damn and all he wanted was his daughter to have a good time, and maybe even a number or three.
But as he looked up, he immediately stopped his train of thought bit his lip and stifled a groan. The prettiest feet he’d ever seen wrapped in a pair of deep green peekaboo kitten heels holding up the longest chocolate legs he’d had ever seen. If this was a movie there would be a slow camera pan right now that would have taken up a whole ten minutes. Her legs calves were beyond perfect. No cankles. Just pure graceful muscle, soft and strong at the same time. They even glowed at him. Logan didn’t know what stopped him from sticking out his tongue and licking them. His eyes moved up and marveled at her knees. No sag, just adorable roundness he knew he was going to get as he moved his eyes upwards. She was wearing a matching army green short (very short) pair of designer cargo shorts with a matching top. To break up the green, she paired it with a wide dulled out orange belt that made her flat tiny waist the focal point of the outfit. Too bad her fairly large chest took away from that. Logan tried really hard not to grin.
But he was taken back by what he found at top. Way up top. First of all, this woman had to be just under six feet tall. No wonder why Logan was mesmerized by her legs, that was the majority of her. But her face nearly brought him to his knees. Her oval face was flawless. No makeup except for a bright lip gloss, which made her already plump lips even more enticing. She was agitated and ripped her sunglasses off to flip them on her head and had them hold her hair back. Logan found himself staring the bluest eyes that ever blued. Of course they were extremely blue because of the shoulder length snowy hair that framed her face.
Holy shit!
“Hi, I’m James Howlett, but everyone calls me Logan.”
“Hi. I’m Pissed Off.”
Ooooh, this was not going well at all. He hated starting off with Damage Control. Weren’t daughters suppose to be good with picking up women? So far Laura had worked wonders, but right now the Howletts were failing miserably.
“I’m sorry,” he countered.
“You should be,” she said like she…
“Wait. What?!”
“Your daughter and her friends started this. While my son ended it,” she looked down at him and glared, “which will be dealt with later.” He did have the smarts to look sheepish then. “Ask your daughter how she and her friends got to have the entire huge jungle gym to themselves when they were not on there to begin with by themselves.”
He turned around to see Rachel and Laura look away quickly. Oh great. He held up a single finger and motioned her to come forward.
“Laura?”
“They wouldn’t share.”
Lucas chimed in immediately. “Oh my god! You guys didn’t even ask. You just pushed us out of the way. There was four of us and seven of you!.”
“So,” Laura asked not feeling like she was at fault.
“Laura,” Logan said through gritted teeth. “What did I tell you about that?” Laura rolled her eyes. She didn’t want to admit that she and Lucas were always getting in trouble with each other in class too.
The woman turned to her son and had an obvious revelation. “Luc, is this the girl that your always fighting with in class?”
Laura flinched and Logan widened his eyes at her.
The young boy looked down and said, “no,” in a totally unconvincing way. She sighed, and suddenly Logan saw her as more as the stereotypical trophy New York wife he found himself having to deal with.
She looked at him with soft eyes for the first time. “Is there a way we can fix this so it no longer escalates in school? How about I bring over a new Barbie?”
The idea of Legs in his Brooklyn apartment left him feeling suddenly inadequate. He could tell from her attire that she was used to the Upper East Side and the finer things in life. Unlike the other women who lived in her world that he could easily tossle with, he knew that this woman would be hard work that he just didn’t have the time for. So he wasn’t even going to try.
Yep, that’s what he wanted to believe too.
“Um…what about a mutual place or ahh thing.”
She giggled and he smiled. He felt much better suddenly.
She rubbed her chin like for a minute and asked, “like a play date? Sure. She looked down at both children and asked, “ would that be better? Could you guys behave at school if you were friends?”
Both children just grumbled their yeses.
Suddenly out of nowhere the quirkiest song could be heard of a young women singing a broken heart from the music she lived by. Even when the singer stuttered the hook and melody, Logan found himself hooked.
“Daddy, Daddy. It’s that song I like. Please please can I get that CD. Who’s that singer?”
“Oh sweety,” Legs said, “her name is Regina Spektor, and the song is called Fidelity. Isn’t it catchy?! I just had to have it as a ring tone.” She pulled out her blackberry, and looked at the caller id with a frown. “Oh no, I forgot all about your father coming in the city.”
“It’s for the charity thing, right Mom?”
“I don’t know. I am no longer privy to that information. Finally!”
“Is it gonna be all that hoopla when he comes?”
“I’m sorry Lucas. I know you wanted something simple when your Father came back in the country.” He just hugged her legs quietly and she tried not to cry because she was saddened by his constant lack of enthusiasm when it came to things about his father.
Logan looked out into the distance. Apparently this woman was divorced from someone important and unlikable. She already stood out in his book.
“How about I call you, Mr. Howlett, and we can set something up?”
“Well darlin’, you can call me Logan, and it sounds like a start to me?”
Sure it wasn’t the exchange of numbers he thought he’d be having, but he was up for something new. Right?
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