Humming, he pours himself a glass of water and says, “I should go to the symphony more often.
Any interest, Lara Jean?”
“Um... maybe,” I say.
I make myself a stack of snickerdoodles, and I run up to my room and sit down at my desk. Munching
on one, I open up my computer and type in “dating for dads,” and lo and behold I find a dating site for
single parents.
I start drafting a profile. First things first, he’ll need a profile pic. I start going through the photos
of him on my computer. There are hardly any of him alone. I finally settle on two, which I bookmark:
one from last summer at the beach—a full-length shot, because that’s one of the tips on the website—
and one of him from this past Christmas, wearing that Scandinavian sweater we got him. He’s carving
a roast chicken, and he looks daddish in a wholesome coffee-commercial way but still vital. The dim
dining room light makes him look hardly wrinkled at all, just some crinkles around the eyes. Which
reminds me: I should get on him about wearing sunscreen every day. A men’s skin-care kit could be a
good Father’s Day gift. I make a note of it in my Reminders.
Daddy is only in his early forties. That’s still plenty young enough to meet someone and fall in
love, maybe two or three times over, even.