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Morgan

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I haven’t showered in days. Having three kids between the ages from two to ten is ridiculously exhausting. I’m so done with today, I’m exhausted.

I really need a nanny. I know I fucking say it a million times a day - but it’s time. I can’t do it all on my own anymore.

My phone starts to ring again and I stare down at my body. I’m covered in food, flour, and milk. I groan, I think those are carrots. I sigh as I step away from the kitchen island, hopping over toys and piles of dirty clothes, before I find my phone buried between the couch cushions.

“Hello.” I grunt out and sit down for the first time in hours. My eyelids are already closing. I’m so tired. I don’t think I even slept last night.

The kids are screaming and throwing shit around. The TV is turned up so loud that I can’t even hear myself think.

“Are you coming to practice? They’re mandatory in two weeks, bro.” Nolan murmurs down the line.

I heave out a heavy sigh and run my fingers through my dirty, greasy hair.

I know my team is concerned. They’ve even been sending me food.

Even Marie, with two twin newborns in tow, has brought me cases of water and a wagon filled with food for the kids and me, laden with gallons of milk, a ten pound bag of flour and rice.

A ton of fresh produce, pounds of ground meats.

Some chicken nuggets and even boxes of macaroni and cheese.

“Not today, man. I can’t get away,” I breathe out and cover my face with my left hand. I haven’t shaved in a week and I’m not liking the feel of the scruff against my clammy palm. I’m always clean shaven. Not anymore.

I’m out of options. Brittany fucked off to Paris or some shit with one of the men she’s been sleeping with behind my back. At least she signed the divorce papers, even with the full custody stipulations.

She told our lawyers to text her when she needs to come back, but I doubt she even will. She had a smile on her face as she cleaned out our closet and packed up all of the jewelry I’ve bought her over the last eleven years, but left her wedding rings on my pillow.

The kids haven’t even asked about her. She never spent time with them. She dropped them off at school or daycare when no one else was able to and would bring them home. Then she would drink wine and lock herself in her room.

I had no idea it was that bad until recently. I travel too much to be here all that much, to be enough for them. I feel terrible. My poor girls.

I finally snapped out of my selfish bullshit and put my girls first. I thought Brittany was taking care of them. I never bothered to ask, I just thought it was expected, she’s their fucking mother. It’s what she wanted, she wanted children, and she wanted to stay home with them.

I haven’t even left the house since she left. Too terrified of the girls hating me, thinking that I’m abandoning them, too.

Nolan sighs, making me wince. I forgot he was even there. “All right, man. Let me know if I can do anything.” I nod, even knowing he can’t see me. I just wish there was something someone can do. Something anyone could do.

“I need to find a live-in nanny… Hire a new housekeeper…”

He grunts and I hear him shutting a door on his end of the line, “I’ll put some feelers out.

I’ll ask around at practice today… I think Alexi and his wife have a nanny to help out a few days a week.

Aren’t there those nanny services now? You just call, let them know what you need, and they send over their nannies for interviews or some shit? ”

I frown as I try to make a mental note of that. I didn’t even think of looking up anything like that on the internet. At least it’s summer so the girls will be home more so that I can see how they do with them.

Plus less time for me to be at the rink. Just practice.

Avery does have summer camp that she goes to Monday through Friday, but I have Nessa and Tilly 24/7.

It was nice enough for Brittany to leave us after the season ended.

I don’t know what I would have done if she left while we were in the playoffs, I would have had to take a sabbatical.

Probably would have had to leave the team at this point.

We already had our captain, James, fucking up all over the place because of him knocking up his best friend, then she went into labor halfway through the playoff games. I shouldn’t be doing this to the team right now, not when James is barely at the rink while he takes care of his family.

“Thanks, Nolan. Talk to you later.” I hang up and toss my phone on the coffee table, knocking over empty cups and juice boxes.

I stare around my living room and my stomach clenches. There are dirty clothes, toys, food wrappers, cups, and just fucking trash everywhere. Diapers, food containers, you name it. I am disgusted.

Something's got to give. I love these three girls more than anything, but holy shit, they are a lot of work. And messy, snotty… They even talk back. If I pulled any of that shit with my parents, my ass would be grounded for a year.

Maybe. They never bothered with parenting me, just threw money at me and forced me out of the house to practice hockey with a hoard of nannies.

I know they’re just acting out. I’m never home, their mother didn’t want to parent them, and now I’m here to right those wrongs.

Be here for them. I’m turning thirty-nine this year, my eight-year contract is up at the end of this coming season.

So, either they put me on a shorter deal due to my age, or I retire for good.

I stand up and slap my cheeks to wake myself up, heading down the hall to the playroom to see how bad the damage is in there. Every time I clean up a room, I turn around, and it’s a damn mess again everywhere else. It’s like living with mini Tasmanian devils.

I lean against the wall and watch my two youngest girls chase each other around. They’re still in their pajamas, covered in syrup from our pancake breakfast, Tilly even has milk all over her face and shirt.

But they’re smiling and laughing. That's what matters, I guess.

“Daddy!” Nessa squeals and races up to me, crashing into my legs. She just turned four and it already feels like I’ve been hit by a truck. She's so damn solid.

“Hey munchkin. Why don’t we start to clean up and we’ll go to the park after lunch? Then we can do something special after picking up Avery?” I glance over to Tilly to gauge her reaction and she shrugs and toddles over to the toys and starts throwing them around. Close, but not close enough.

We, or I, go from room to room filling up trash bags with old, broken toys that are irredeemable. It takes hours, but eventually all of the trash is bagged, filled with ripped up and over-stained clothes, old food, and broken toys.

All of the good toys are cleaned and put away and the furniture back in order. The kitchen is clean, along with the living room, sitting room, and their bedrooms. I glance down at my watch and realize we have way surpassed lunch and need to pick up Avery soon from camp.

I groan as my stomach grumbles and I race to see if there’s anything we can eat before we have to leave. At least they’ve been snacking all day on the food I pulled out of the fridge and told them to eat before it needed to be tossed out. We really need to grocery shop. Again.

“Girls! Let’s head into the bath and then we’ll go pick up Avery… we’ll just go to the park after we have her!” The girls excitedly run down the hall towards their shared bathroom and I collapse onto my knees, filling up the tub and adding their favorite bubble bath to the warm water.

I get them both cleaned up, handing them toys to play with as the water cools before wrapping them up in towels.

I grab their brushes and deposit them into their room on their beds and pull out the last of their clean clothes.

Shit, the one thing I didn’t get to today, laundry. Maybe tonight after they’re in bed.

“Tilly, do you want to sit on the potty before we leave?”

She frowns and shakes her head, her blonde curls bouncing into her face. “No. Diaper.” I sigh and nod, getting her all suited up in the white diaper and putting her in a pair of leggings, a dress, socks, and boots.

Nessa dressed herself and I brush through her hair, leaving it down.

I’m 6’3” and have massive, muscular hands, there’s no way I could figure out how to braid their damn hair and I have no idea how to even work a hair tie.

Their hair is clean and brushed. That’s good enough for me.

“Okay[1], daddy needs to shower really quick… maybe I can shave… then we’re going to go.

” I think about how I can do this without them racing out the front door or destroying the house.

I have them follow me to my room as I grab everything I need: a bigger towel, clothes, my body wash and shampoo, and my electric razor.

I’ll lock us all in their room and just use their attached bathroom. They can play and not get into trouble.

I hope.

By the time we’re jumping into my SUV, we only have ten minutes to make it to the camp before I get another warning for showing up late, one more time and they’ll tell me she’s not allowed back. No matter how much she loves it there. Or how much money I offer to throw at them.

Assholes.

The girls are buckled and their favorite music is on. They’re dancing and singing while I drive five over the speed limit and park a minute before I’m late. I race out of the car and wave to the supervisor on pick-up duty today and she rolls her eyes at me.

“Cutting it close, Mr. Bale. See you next Monday!” She turns around, her long dark ponytail swinging behind her as she jogs back into the building. I glance down at Avery, her light brown hair is braided on either side of her head and her hazel eyes are narrowed at me.

Someone here must have done her hair today because it definitely wasn’t me.

“If you’re late one more time, I can’t come back, dad. You know this,” she sighs dramatically and hikes up her yellow backpack on her shoulder and stomps to the car, the only one here in the pick-up area.

I frown as I follow her back to the car, pointing to the back seat right before she opens up the front passenger door. “Nice try, Ave. Get in the back in between your sisters.”

She rolls her eyes and climbs in and buckles herself in. “Mom always let me sit in the front.”

I sigh as I turn the car around and head to the closest fast food place. I can’t stomach the shit, but the kids need to eat and they’ll burn the calories at the park. “It’s just not safe. Sorry. Maybe in a few years.”

I ignore her huff and I order their meals before I drive back towards the house.

The gated community we live in has a fuck load of amenities that I’m sure the kids never made use out of before I took over.

There’s a small lake, a park, an indoor arcade, and even a movie theater. Tall, thick trees everywhere you look.

It's home.

“We’re not going home?” Avery asks as I park and she unbuckles herself before helping Tilly and Nessa out of their car seats.

“Nope. I promised the little ones that we would come here after we cleaned the house. That’s why we were late… and I actually bathed and cleaned up today.” I wink at her in the rear-view mirror and I grab the food, smiling as the three of them race straight to the jungle gym.

I sit down at one of the metal tables under a tall tree in the shade and place the bags of food on top, hoping it’ll all stay warm for when they’re ready to fill their bellies. Then again, the younger two eat old food off the ground, so I don’t think cold fast food would deter them.

I watch them out of the corner of my eye as I pull out my phone and begin to search for nanny services.

All of the nannies are certified in a plethora of shit.

CPR, first aid, and homeschooling. Even cooking, cleaning, and discipline.

I’ll still need to hire a new housekeeper, but it would be nice to not have to worry about my kids not eating while I’m at practice or at games.

I make an account and enter all of my information. Grabbing my wallet out of my back pocket to scan in my driver’s license, typing up the girl’s ages and what I’m looking for. At least there’s an option for live-in nannies. Do I need something like that?

It might be smarter with my schedule.

I add my credit card for the background checks and it says to wait a few days for a phone call.

Hopefully they have lawyers and NDAs so that I don’t have a house full of puck bunnies stoked about getting my address, with their phones in hand to take photos of my kids and me for their social media accounts. Something to talk about when they call.

“Daddy! Can we eat?” Nessa pokes my side and I set my phone down on the table and look down at her.

“Yep. Let me have Avery run to the car and grab the wipes and hand sanitizer.” I wince and call out for my eldest daughter and toss her my keys.

All three of them dig into their meals after I get their hands and faces clean. Watching them talk to each other, the smiles on their red, splotchy faces from exertion. I need to do better for them.

I close my eyes and breathe out slowly, I also need to get back to the rink. The gym and the ice are going to kick my ass in two weeks if I don’t get my ass in gear.

Tilly takes a bite out of each of her four nuggets and says she’s done. Jumping down from the table, she smiles at me and toddles off to the swings and points at it.

I cover up her food and chase after her, laughing when she screams and runs in circles around the jungle gym. Maybe we can come here every day and I can get in some cardio.

Or, I can finally turn my basement into a gym now that Brittany isn’t in the house to tell me not to. She wanted me to work out with my friends, my team. Apparently she did everything to keep me out of the house for her own selfish, whoring bullshit. I should have known.

I should have put it together years ago that she never loved me.

I scoop Tilly up and toss her in the air, listening to her giggling so hard that she’s snorting and screaming. Tears are streaming from her bright blue eyes. I finally set her down in one of the baby swings and start pushing her.

“Not high, daddy.”

I nod and move around so that she can see me. Her eyes are so bright and wide, open and happy. Tilly [2]and Nessa have Brittany’s bright blonde, curly hair, but only Tilly has her mother’s eyes.

Avery is my little clone. She has my light brown straight hair and hazel eyes.

I smile. Everything will turn out okay. This is for the best.