A Bridge in the Woods

Two broken, single parents find heeling

This is a long-ish story with quite a bit of background development. I think the added depth is worth the long build, so please be patient with it.

*******

And so it began. The start of another school year. I pulled my Jeep into the school grounds and took my place in the waiting drop-off lane. Children scurried about the school grounds with crisp back-to-school clothes and brightly colored backpacks not yet soiled and tattered from use. I winced internally as numerous mothers hugged their little ones, sent them into the building, and tearfully departed.

My Elizabeth unfastened her seatbelt and eagerly fidgeted on the edge of the seat as we crept forward in line. Upon arrival at the designated unloading zone, Lizzie contorted herself over the center console and gave me a tight, all-consuming hug. "I love you Daddy!" she shouted as a volunteer parent opened the car door. And with that, she was gone in a flash. The volunteer and I just smiled at each other and shrugged our shoulders.

In a repeat of years past, I drove away with a feeling of emptiness. Lizzie and I spent every minute of the summer together and I grew accustomed to her as my constant companion. It seemed like just yesterday that I dropped her off for the first day of preschool. Today it's third grade. How fast will the remaining years fly by before she leaves me all alone?

I spent the day in a nearby coffee shop distractedly conducting business via email on my laptop. It wasn't rational, but somehow it felt better knowing I was only a couple minutes from the school, and from Lizzie. Time passed excruciatingly slow and I struggled to resist going to the school and being one of 'those' helicopter parents. Well, school ends at 2:50. I held out until 2:15.

I was third in the line of vehicles waiting for pick-up and my eyes anxiously scanned the mass of children emerging from the school doors. It wasn't long before I spotted Lizzie joyfully skipping hand-in-hand with a girl I didn't recognize. She was rail thin, had a very lightly tanned skin tone, and towered above Lizzie. That wasn't too surprising since Lizzie took after her very petite mother and also barely made the birthday cutoff for her grade, but this girl was quite a bit taller than the average third grader.

The girls zig-zagged as they skipped down the sidewalk with swinging arms and bouncing hair. Lizzie's straight and amber brown, her friend's a loose mass of dark curls. Lizzie spotted my Jeep and pointed it out to her friend. They hugged goodbye with Lizzie's arms around her friend's waist, and her friend's arms around Lizzie's head. I smiled at the height contrast and felt a sense of relief as Lizzie ran toward the Jeep.

She climbed in and frantically began telling me everything about her day, a flood of words pouring from her mouth as if a damn holding them back had burst, "My teacher is Mrs. Pierpont and she is really nice and she has red hair. A boy named Alex sits next to me and he has shiny shoes. I had a hot dog for lunch and...and...and..."

My heart felt comfort as she sat next to me and I heard the happiness in her voice. I needed her near me and to know that everything was ok.

Lizzie had talked non-stop for 10 minutes and was still going as we headed toward home. The small-town streets gave way to a rural two-lane road as we headed out of town, and eventually the tires crunched along the gravel road leading to our house in the woods. It was the tranquil setting that I needed when Lizzie and I moved here 8 years ago.

"...and I met a new friend. Her name is Toni, well it's really Antonia, but she wants to be called Toni. Kind of like my name is Elizabeth, but you call me Lizzie. She is really nice and really tall. She has a pet frog."

I interrupted to ask, "Is that who you were skipping with after school?"

"Yes, she in my class but she doesn't sit next to me. I met her when we were in line for lunch and we sat together. She brought a salad from home and bought a milk in the lunch line. She just moved here from somewhere else. Can I bring lunch from home tomorrow?"

I patted her knee with my hand and said, "Of course, you can sweetie." as we parked in front of the house.

It wasn't a large house but was plenty of space for the two of us. There was a great room, kitchen and half bathroom on the main level; two bedroom-bathroom suites and a loft space on the second level; and a semi-finished basement that I had been slowly working on for several years. It had all the modern technology and conveniences but was built with a rustic charm complementing its setting in the woods.

We kicked our shoes off in the mudroom and Lizzie discarded her backpack into the coat cubby by the door. Lizzie, or more accurately, I, survived the first day of the school year. Only 179 more to go.

**********

Lizzie and I settled into the school year rhythm over the next couple weeks and I began to slowly let go of my separation anxiety. Every day, I dropped her off at school, worked from home, then picked her up from school. Evenings were filled with homework, dinner preparation, and some form of relaxing time together. Lizzie particularly enjoyed walking in the woods and making up imaginary games with sticks, leaves, rocks, or other things she would find along the way. The grand finale of her outdoor adventures was always spending some time on a rope swing that I had hung from a tall oak tree. Other nights we might occupy ourselves with board games, cards, or television as the mood struck us. At the end of every night, Lizzie would get ready for bed then we would spend about a half-hour talking and reading a book of her choice before turning off the lights.

I also noticed another pattern forming in those first few weeks of school. Lizzie was talking more and more about her new friend, Toni. They waited for each other to arrive in the mornings before going into the school together and would always emerge side-by-side in the afternoons. They were quickly becoming inseparable and I was happy to see her form that kind of relationship. Like me, Lizzie had always been socially reserved with only a few limited friendships.

I saw her reserved personality opening up more and more with Toni, so one evening when Lizzie asked if she could invite her to play at our house, I readily agreed. I wrote my name and cell phone number on a note pad before tearing it out and handing it to Lizzie, "Ask her to have her parents call me and we will see if we can setup a time to play."

Lizzie squealed and bounced up and down in excitement. She continued bouncing all the way to the mudroom and safely deposited the note in her backpack.

**********

It was a couple days later, mid-morning on Thursday, that I answered a call from a number I didn't recognize. Thinking it was likely a business call, I answered, "Hello, this is David."

A friendly but hesitant female voice replied, "Hi, I'm Stefani, Toni's mom."

"Hi Stefani. It's nice to meet you, well, over the phone at least. Lizzie has been so excited to play with Toni!"

"Yes, I've heard a lot about Lizzie over the last couple weeks. Toni is excited too."

I got down to details and asked, "When is Toni available?"

"Would Saturday afternoon, maybe around 1:00, work for you?"

"Yes, that would be just fine." Not knowing how many facts about our home life found its way to Toni's parents, I tried to be understanding of the fact that people can be cautious of sending their children, especially girls, to a single father's house. I tentatively asked, "Where would Toni be most comfortable? Lizzie would love for her to come here, or we are happy to meet at Triangle Park. Whatever works best for you."

Stefani thought for a brief second, then replied, "Would you be comfortable dropping Lizzie off at our house for a couple hours?"

I noticed that she said, "drop her off for a couple hours," which clearly meant I was not invited to stay. However, I didn't think much of it since a dad hanging around during a play date in someone else's house would be awkward at best.

"Yes, I'm sure Lizzie would enjoy that."

Stefani gave me the address, then we exchanged closing words and ended the call. I sat and reflected on the conversation for a few moments. It all seemed very normal. Stefani seemed "normal" and was pleasant enough, though I sensed a business-like tone in her voice. I shrugged it off thinking, "How much can you tell from a 2-minute phone call?"

**********

I told Lizzie the news when I picked her up from school. She shrieked with excitement, did a little dance in her seat, and began counting the hours until 1:00 Saturday. She definitely got that over-enjoyment of simple things in life, and the dancing talent, from her mother!

Saturday eventually arrived, although much too slowly for Lizzie's liking. After lunch, we hopped into the Jeep and rode into town with Lizzie impatiently fidgeting in the passenger seat the whole way. We pulled onto Depot Street near downtown and Lizzie helped me scan for the mailbox with the correct house number. I saw it from a distance and slowed down so she could have the discovery.

"There it is! There it is! 2...1...5!" she screamed.

I brought the Jeep to a stop in front of a small, well-kept bungalow style home with an impressive display of annual flowers by the front steps. As soon as we stopped, Toni burst out the front door and bounded down the porch steps in a single leap. Likewise, Lizzie unfastened her seatbelt and threw open the door in one fluid motion. They met midway across the yard in a full speed, shrieking embrace.

I smiled at their innocent joy as I unbuckled my seatbelt and walked around the Jeep toward the house. As I did, the front door opened and a tall, slender lady stepped out onto the porch in bare feet, wearing fashionably weathered blue jeans and a buff color corded sweater. She appeared to be in her early 30s and looked like the identical, older version of Toni. She was maybe around 5'-10" tall and had the same slender build, with addition of modest womanly curves at her hips and chest. Her chiseled facial features and shoulder length dark curls were also a matured version of Toni's.

I approached the porch and offered a cheery "Hello! I'm David, nice to meet you."

She crossed her arms and somewhat coldly replied, "Hi David," then with a voice inflection that implied more of an assertion than a question said, "Would it be ok for you to pick Lizzie up at 3:00?"

I sensed the invisible barrier she was erecting and halted my progress toward the porch.

"Yes, that would be fine. I'll see you then."

As I turned away to walk back to the Jeep, she flatly said, "Please don't be late."

I didn't reply to her, but turned my attention to Lizzie and said loudly enough for my demander to hear, "Have fun girls! I'll be back BEFORE 3:00 to pick you up Lizzie."

While the lady on the porch didn't introduce herself, the voice matched Stefani's from our phone call a few days ago, and was equally business-like in demeanor. It's difficult to describe. She didn't project a mean or nasty personality that would have made me wary of leaving Lizzie, but she was definitely keeping her distance. The mystery of it piqued my curiosity and made me realize that, as much as Lizzie talked about Toni, she hadn't told me anything about her family.

I ran a couple errands around town and returned to Lizzie's house at 2:50, ten minutes early. When I pulled up I saw numerous toys strewn across the front yard and heard playing voices and squeals coming from behind the house. Since I was early, I leisurely wandered the front yard picking up hula-hoops, jump ropes, a bicycle, and a few balls. As I deposited the last couple items into a neat pile next to the driveway, I heard Stefani's voice behind me softly say, "Thank you, you didn't need to do that."

I turned to face her as she stood on the porch in the same jeans and sweater she had on earlier, "No worries. I was a little early and didn't want to intrude."

With her arms crossed in front of her, Stefani somewhat timidly said, "Thank you for that too... for being early."

Just then, the girls came running around the corner of the house screaming, "Spider! Spider! Spider!"

I looked at Stefani, smiled and shrugged my shoulders. I corralled Lizzie and said, "It's time to go, is there anything you need to clean up?"

Toni answered for her, "No, we just had toys out in the front yard. I'll put them in the garage."

The girls pleaded for another play date as they hugged. Stefani simply answered, "We'll see."

I gave a quick wave goodbye as Lizzie and I climbed in the Jeep and pulled away.

********

Over the next few days, the pattern of school drop-offs and pick-ups with Lizzie and Toni as an inseparable pair continued, and Lizzie begged me relentlessly for another out-of-school play date with Toni. Given Stefani's tepid response at the end of the last play date, I was hesitant to initiate. However, Lizzie's continued insistence eventually wore me down and I made the phone call that Thursday.

Stefani answered the phone with a simple, "Hello."

"Hi Stefani. This is Lizzie's dad, David. How are you today?"

She answered somewhat suspiciously, "I'm fine."

After a second of not receiving any more of a response, I stumbled a bit with my words and added, "Uh, Lizzie would really like to get together with Toni again. I... I was just calling to see if you would be open to that."

Stefani questioned sharply, "Why are you asking if I'm open to it?"

I stumbled some more, "Uh... well... you sounded a little hesitant at the end of the last play date and... and I didn't want to be presumptuous about them getting together again."

She coldly answered, "I'm fine with it."

"Okay, good. It seems Lizzie and Toni are becoming fast friends."

In an ever-so-slightly warmer tone of voice, Stefani asked, "When and where are you thinking?"

"How about Saturday afternoon again? Wherever you would prefer is fine with us."

"Yes, that works. Saturday afternoon at 3:00. How about our house again?"

I replied, "Sounds good. We'll see you then." before we exchanged goodbyes. I ended the cell phone call and loudly exhaled my relief that the awkward conversation was over.

********

The beginning of the second play date went much like the first; screaming girls happy to see each other, a cold reception from Stefani, and a firm directive to be there on-time to pick up Lizzie. It also ended similarly to the first play date. I arrived early, exchanged a few short words with Stefani, and gently guided Lizzie to the Jeep as the girls begged for more time together. This same routine became standard procedure over the next several weeks and a half dozen more play dates.

The only change to the pattern occurred after the first few play dates, when Stefani and I began texting each other to make arrangements rather than talking on the phone. The texting suited me just fine as it avoided the awkwardness of our previous telephone conversations.

Eventually, Lizzie started asking if Toni could come to our house to play. I avoided the subject as long as possible since I wasn't sure how Stefani would feel about Toni coming to a single father's house or, for that matter, even how much she knew about our family situation. After an especially persuasive appeal from Lizzie one afternoon, I caved and picked up my phone to text Stefani.

I wasn't sure how to best approach the question and, after several re-writes, settled on a minimal and factual approach, "Hi Stefani. Lizzie would like to invite Toni over to our house for a play date."

A couple hours later my phone buzzed with the simple reply, "K. When?"

After a few exchanges of date options, we settled on that Thursday after school. Stefani offered to drop her off and I sent her our address.

I told Lizzie the plan and she immediately began formulating a list of all the things they would do. The two activities that kept rising to the top were to show Toni her bedroom and play on a bridge that she and I had built over a small creek in the woods.

It was a simple bridge made by spanning a couple logs from bank to bank, then covering them with old rough sawn slab wood for a walking surface that was about 6-feet wide. It wasn't much, but it was sufficient to occasionally get my small tractor to the other side of the creek and it was one of Lizzie's favorite spots in the world; running over it, throwing stones into the water, looking for crayfish, watching the squirrels and chipmunks, sliding on the frozen stream in the winter, etc. If the weather was nice, she would sometimes do her homework laying belly down on the bridge with her elbows propping up her upper body.

It was also her spot of solace when she was sad or upset. She would sit on the edge swinging her feet below her until the surrounding woods healed whatever was bothering her. Eventually, she would meander her way back to the house in a much better mood than she left.

She and I were a lot alike in that respect. It was the very reason I bought the property when we moved here, to get away from life and let nature heal some wounds.

********

Lizzie was positively giddy during the ride home from school on Thursday. She recapped the list of things she had planned to show and do with Toni. I reminded her to be a good host and do the things that Toni wants to do, though I suspected that would easily be worked out between the now inseparable friends.

As Lizzie shed her backpack and shoes in the mudroom, she asked, "Can we make chocolate chip cookies before Toni gets here?"

"Sure, I think we have all the ingredients. Start getting everything out."

We had made cookies together enough that Lizzie knew where everything was located. She rushed around pulling ingredients, mixing bowls, and baking sheets out of the pantry. After confirming everything needed was present, Lizzie started measuring ingredients into the mixing bowl. I stood by to lend assistance when needed and occasionally clarify a fractional measurement or the difference between teaspoons and tablespoons.

Other than a little incident with the flour, Lizzie did a great job mixing the cookie dough. Together, we spooned balls of dough onto baking sheets and put the first tray into the oven. Lizzie set the timer and I suggested she go clean the flour off her arms and face while they were baking.

I cleaned errant flour from the countertop and floor while Lizzie washed up. Just as I finished and began to load the dirty bowls and mixing utensils into the dishwasher, the oven timer chimed and there was a knock at the front door almost simultaneously.

Lizzie heard it and ran full speed to the door. I quickly dried my hands and hit the button to silence the chiming oven. Since the main level of our house was mostly one big, open space, I could see Lizzie open the door and embrace Toni, with Stefani standing close behind.

I pulled an oven mitt over my hand and called, "Please come on in. I just need to pull cookies out of the oven."

The girls came racing over to eagerly observe the fresh cookies. Stefani stood in the doorway obviously surveying the inside of the house.

"Come on in, Stefani." I called again and, in an attempt to relax her, added, "Make yourself at home. I just need to switch these batches of cookies."

She came inside, closed the door behind her, and tentatively took a few steps into the great room. The girls talked and watched as I removed the first tray of cookies from the oven and then inserted a second tray.

Their impatience was obvious so I cautioned, "Let them cool for a couple minutes, then you can have one while they are still warm and gooey."

Stefani had taken a few more steps toward the great room's floor-to-ceiling windows and continued to study the house and its contents. Seeing her silhouetted in front of the windows and forest beyond was quite striking. Her mass of loose curly hair pulled into a ponytail and carefully fed through the back closure of a Nike 'Just Do It' ball cap. She wore running shoes with ankle socks, three-quarter length running tights, and a quarter-zip pullover running top. The top was somewhat loose fitting but still gave evidence of an undergarment that effectively restrained and compressed modest size breasts. The style fit her well and complimented her tall, slender form. Particularly, the well-proportioned curves of her hips and ass that were showcased by the skin-tight running pants.