The Gang's All Here

A father looks ahead to an uncertain future

Here a bike, there a bike, everywhere a bike bike!

Joe chuckled as he dodged Huffys and BMXs and some homemade Frankenstein of a bicycle on his way to the front door. He could hear boys, and a couple of girls, laughing and shouting inside.

He walked in and saw his daughter, Melanie, lounging on the couch.

"Any of them kill each other yet, Mel?"

She never even looked up at him as she returned his wit. "Dunno. Haven't heard any screams; I'll do a headcount when they leave."

Suddenly, a chubby boy in a Star Wars shirt raced down the stairs, out of breath. "Mr. Jackson! Can I use the phone? I gotta check in!"

"Sure, Danny."

"I'm Donny," the boy corrected heading for the phone.

"Why does Doug have to be friends with twins?" Joe directed toward Melanie.

"Because they're both dorks, Father Dearest."

Before either could trade more witty comments, the whole gang thundered down the stairs: seven boys, three grils, all glowing with preadolescent excitement and all babbling at once. From long experience, Joe interpreted the groupspeak: we're going to go over to Gina's and then go down to the woods to The Clubhouse. Joe smiled.

"Be careful, guys. I'll let Mrs. Kleideist know you're on your way. Stay together; Doug, be home by seven."

"'Kay, Dad!"

Melanie rose, too. "I'm gonna go grab some pop and stop over at Casey's house. Alright if I spend the night?"

Joe kissed his daughter on the head. "Sure, honey."

Ten minutes later, the house was silent. Joe sat at the kitchen table with a warm cup of tea, missing Tess. He had figured out how to be a single father. But he had no idea how he was ever going to cope with being a single empty-nester.

NOTES: ▼

Word Count: 300
Submitted for "Daily Flash Fiction Challenge" 
Prompt: Use the words bike, phone, and pop