Valerie Taylor - The World's Best Dad

Probably true, for most kids. But Marisa wasn’t most kids. “But is it enough to be a pretty good parent? Marisa needs a great parent.”

“She’s got you. That’s one great parent.”

Julie shook her head. “But I know nothing.” Every new day proved that to her in alarming ways. She felt as if she were treading on eggshells with Marisa, trying not to make some huge permanent mistake.

“You know what you want to be, as a parent. Just find a guy who wants the same.”

It sounded simple, but Julie knew better. “No, he needs to be better than me. He needs to be enough to make up for me. To make up for my shortcomings. Someone who knows what he’s doing. I need to find someone who can be a great dad.”

Carla laughed. “So falling in love doesn’t enter into it?”

Julie smiled at her friend, sheepish. “Of course, I have to love him, too. But if it’s just as easy to fall in love with a rich man as a poor one, then it ought to be just as easy to fall in love with a good father as a bad one.” She collapsed against the cushions, frustrated. “Which brings us right back to figuring out which ones are the good ones. And then dating them.”

Carla leaned forward. “And falling in love.”

Julie gave her a frown of mock exasperation. “Of course, and falling in love. Sometimes you tend to harp, were you aware of that?” It was a plan, though. It just might work. “If I only date men who would be good fathers, then that’s the only kind of guy I’ll be able to fall in love with.”

“What, you figure once you’re ready to fall in love, it’ll happen with whoever is close by?” Carla hooted. “Somehow I don’t think that’s how it works.”

“Well, it’ll at least be more likely that way.”

“Okay, so you stay away from known pedophiles.”

Julie laughed. “It’s more than that. I want to find a man who will be good for Marisa, not just one who won’t be bad for her.”

Carla thought for a moment. “You know, I read an article once about where to find single men.” She had the grace to blush at Julie’s raised eyebrow. “Well, there was nothing else to read at the gynecologist’s except Cosmo and a pamphlet on breast self-exams. Anyway, it said you look for single men in the places single men are. Like, you sign up for group golf lessons because the class is likely to be filled with men. So why don’t you look for good fathers in the places they hang out?”

Julie shot her a look. “You know, that is a very good idea.”

“I know. I’m full of good ideas. I always tell you that and you never listen.” Carla leaned back, chewing on her lip. “Where does someone who would be a good father hang out?”

“I’ll tell you where.” Julie got up and walked into the kitchen. She picked up the flier she’d read earlier and brought it back to Carla. “Here’s where.”

Carla looked at it. “At parenting workshops? Wouldn’t those be full of guys who think they aren’t very good parents and need help?”

Julie brushed that aside. “Not the people attending. The guy giving the lecture.”

Carla squinted at the picture, then read the caption. “‘Maynard Frader, Ph.D., is a noted child psychologist and author of several books on parenting.”’ She shook her head. “I dunno. He looks kind of geeky to me.”

Julie snatched the paper back and looked at the picture. “That’s not geeky.” Or at least, not very geeky. “That’s warm and kindly. He has his chin propped on his hands, like he’s really listening to someone.”

Balancing her glass, Carla leaned over to look at the picture again. “Well, at least he doesn’t have a wedding ring on. But he’s no Fabio.”

“How can you even tell from that little picture? Besides, Fabio isn’t even a dad.” She sat back down and Carla plopped onto the couch next to her. “Don’t you see? That’s it. All I have to do is look for parenting experts. Or child-raising experts.” It was so simple, really. Almost elegant. “Where do you find the world’s best parents? You look for those who do it for a living.”

“Well,” Carla said doubtfully. “I suppose you could go hear him speak, maybe chat him up afterward if he doesn’t seem like a complete dork.”

“Or even if he does, a second chance couldn’t hurt.”

“So, fine, that’s one. What if you hate him? We better have some backups.” Carla reached into her purse and pulled out a notepad. She opened it to a fresh page and headlined it “The World’s Best Dad,” then added a second headline, “Candidates.”

Under that, she wrote, “Maynard Frader, Ph.D. Noted child psychologist. Author of parenting books. Kind of a dork.”

She looked up at Julie, pen poised over the page. “Now we’re cooking with gas. Where else can you look?”

“Hmm, let me think.” Marisa’s social worker had sent Julie a schedule of parenting classes in anticipation of her application to adopt Marisa. Julie dug it out and flipped to the back to look at the instructor biographies. “Okay, there are three men listed here. Of course, they might be married…”

“Or gay.”

“Right, but here are their names.” She handed the schedule to Carla, who added the names to the list, then said, “Oh. I know. The Department of Early Childhood Education at UC. They have to have some single men on faculty. And teachers. We can’t list them all, but I’ll note it down to be investigated if ol’ Frader here doesn’t pan out.”

Julie frowned and sipped her wine, thoughtful. “I still have to figure out a way to meet them. Frader, I can try to meet after his talk. But the others? I’ll have to think of something.”

Carla paused, pen in hand. “Maybe you should add experienced daddies to the list.” She waggled her eyebrows. “Like that neighbor of yours.”

Julie smiled, thinking of Ben. He was pretty cute.

Carla said, “Uh-huh. And you’ve already met that one. And judging by the chemistry I could feel from a mile away, it shouldn’t be too hard to move on from here, either.” She wrote his name down and underlined it. “I’m betting on him to hold his own.” She tore the page out of the notebook. “There you go. The hunt for the world’s best dad.”

Julie laughed. “I like it.”

“I don’t know.” Carla set the page on a pile of papers on Julie’s desk. She picked up her wine as she curled up again on the couch, tucking her feet beneath her. “I still think that whole love thing is going to get in your way.”

Ben helped Joe into his pajamas. “What do you want to read?”

“Edward Overnight.”

“Edward’s Overwhelming Overnight? Oh, that’s a good one.” Ben set Joe on his feet. “Go get it, and we’ll read it.”

Joe ran over to the bookshelf and put his hand on the book, first try. He brought the book back and climbed into Ben’s lap, and they sat on the bed together, Joe cuddled under Ben’s right arm.

“‘The telephone rang. It interrupted Edward’s story…”’ Ben had read the story of Edward, the bear who wasn’t ready to spend the night away from home, until he was sick of it. But Joe wanted it every night. Lately he’d taken to sleeping with the book.

This time, after he finished reading, Ben pulled Joe around to look into his face. “Joe, you know you never have to stay overnight anywhere you don’t want to, don’t you?” Joe nodded, but he didn’t look convinced.

Ben leaned down closer. “I promise. You will never have to stay anywhere you don’t want to stay. Understand?”

Joe nodded again. “But what about at Grandma’s?”

Maggie. He knew it. She was behind this, talking to the poor kid about coming to stay with her. Scaring him out of his wits. Calmly he said, “Not Grandma’s, either.”