Chapter Text
Jeff Winger, former lawyer, current professor of law at the now somewhat respected and “official” Greendale Community College, and legal consultant, was used to waking up in the bed with beautiful members of the opposite sex.
However, while he often found himself in... interesting positions with said women, and had more than once found himself a very willing and “eager” participant in a number of threesomes, everyone involved was of legal age. None were related to him.
And none ever made him wake up by shoving their fingers up his nose, or dropping their foot on his face.
He startled awake with a grunt of pain and a sound of temporary confusion, blinking his eyes sleepily. Once his vision cleared, Jeff couldn’t help but chuckle fondly and shake his head.
Even now he still couldn’t believe how his life had changed. He reached out and shifted Alanna back up to the head of the bed, and placed her next to her twin sister, Alicia. He watched as Alanna’s change of position from the foot of the bed to the head, caused the two three-year-olds to wake up. Their blue eyes shined up at him, as they each studied him for a moment, before grinning widely, their chestnut curls fanned beneath them on the pillows.
They look just like her.
“Good morning, my beautiful princesses,” Jeff greeted them, feeling the skin of his cheeks stretch with the force of his smile as the warmth of pure happiness flooded his being.
It no longer surprised him, this feeling of utter joy. He’d gotten used to it over the last three or four years. And as long as he didn’t think about her, didn’t allow his mind to dwell on the girls’ mother, then he could maintain that feeling everyday, all day.
“Mornin’ Daddy,” Alanna said as she sat up.
“Hi Daddy,” Alicia, who was more laid back like him, spoke up; still laying down, her eyes barely opened, as she lifted a hand and promptly let it drop back to the mattress. Not little Alanna. She was already standing, straightening her clothes and hair, and heading towards Jeff, determination in her big blue gaze.
Just like her mother. Always ready to take on the world.
Jeff lifted Alanna into his arms, then leaned down to pick up Alicia. He swung her over his shoulder, smiling at her childish and exuberant giggles.
“What do you girls want for breakfast?” He asked as he walked down the stairs of his two-story colonial home equipped with 3 bedrooms, an office, a home gym in the basement, kitchen, dining room, pool, large backyard outfitted with a tree house and swings for the twins, family room, two and a half bathrooms, and a guesthouse out back.
“Pancakes!” Alicia yelled, patting her hands against Jeff’s back.
“Bacon!” Alanna responded, lifting her hands in the air.
Jeff deposited both girls in their booster seats (purple for Alanna, green for Alicia) and leaned forward, lowering his voice, and whispering conspiratorially, “How about... both?”
When both of his daughters widened their eyes and gasped—just like her—as if amazed that having both pancakes and bacon on a Saturday morning, made by “Daddy” was even an option.
“Weally?” Alicia breathed and Jeff nodded. Alicia turned to look at her sister, who simply stared at her in awe, before they both clapped and cheered.
“Yay!”
Jeff nodded and turned to grab the girls their coloring books and crayons, so he could focus on cooking. He pulled out the ingredients he needed and whistled the tune of a song he was pretty sure came from some Disney+ cartoon (or maybe that Hamilton play that Britta still couldn’t stop reciting) as he moved around the kitchen. He kept an eye on his girls, who were happily coloring and chattering away to each other about what he could only guess were their plans to take over the world.
He didn’t care what Shirley said, his daughters were gorgeous geniuses whose interactions with their Aunt Britta had turned hem into little baby anarchists. The kind who were focused on world domination so that they could “destwoy the patwiawchy, Daddy!”
He chuckled to himself again and flipped over the Minnie Mouse pancakes on the griddle.
“Daddy?” Alanna called.
He glanced over at her.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
Alanna looked at Alicia, before turning to stare towards the front door, then returning her gaze back to him.
“Where’s Mommy?”
And just like that, pain sliced through him. He knew his happy bubble couldn’t last forever. Not with the world’s smartest and most beautiful three-year-olds in his life. It wasn’t fair of him to ask his daughters not to ask about their mother, even if just the thought of her made him want to drink every drop of Scotch from every bottle that he had hidden and stashed away in his home.
“Your mommy isn’t with us anymore,” he choked out. “Remember? Daddy has to drive you and your sister to Denver if you want to talk to and see Mommy.”
Alanna nodded.
“Yeah, Mommy is at the place with all the sad and mad people who all weyah black,” Alicia told her sister.
Alanna nodded again. “I miss her.”
Yeah. I do too.
Before Jeff could allow his thoughts continue on that morose track, he turned off the stove and brought the girls their breakfast. He’d only just set the plates down on the table when the doorbell rang. Sighing deeply, Jeff glanced over at the calendar on the wall where he’d marked with red marker the next thirty-one days.
I can do this. It’s only 31 days. I can do this.
He placed a kiss on top of the twins’ heads and headed over to the front door. Inhaling deeply to settle his nerves-anxiety and annoyance battling for dominance within him (this was NOT the plan... I go there, she doesn’t come here... but I should have known she would do things her own way)—he unlocked and then tugged open the front door.
He dropped his gaze down onto her face, ignoring the way his heart started to pound, the way his palms began to sweat, and even the way it suddenly seemed to be so much easier to breathe. He would follow her lead and at that moment, her face was an implacable mask.
Her hair was pulled back into a tight, low bun. Her eyes were covered by the pair of black shades she always wore whenever he saw her recently. Her body wrapped in a black suit that to him looked extremely uncomfortable.
“Good morning, Mr. Winger. Are the girls awake?”
He tried to hold back his snark and sarcasm whenever he saw her but their divorce had only been finalized three days ago and she had already changed her status from “Separated” to “Single” on social media and her last name from Winger to...
Don’t think about it.
Don’t think about it. And whatever you do, don’t mention it.
“Yes they are. Good to see you, Mrs. Winger. Or are you going by your maiden name again? Should I call you Ms Edison or is Annie okay? It’s so hard to keep up these days.”
Idiot. At least that insult of hers was right.
Annie tugged off her shades and rolled her big, blue eyes. The same Disney eyes his daughters had. The same ones which had ensnared him and drowned him in the hopeless, doomed emotion called love he’d so rightly avoided his entire life.
“Oh grow up, Jeff.”
“Mommy!”
Jeff’s own eyes slid closed as he heard the joy in his daughters’ voices.
It’s not about you, and it’s not about her. It’s about them.
“Come on in.” He swept his arm out, welcoming her in. “Where are your bags?”
She jerked her thumb towards the backyard.
“Guesthouse.”
Jeff nodded and followed her back to the kitchen, after locking the now closed door behind them. He squared his shoulders and raised his chin, planting a wide, fake smile on his face. His girls were too young to understand that sometimes love just wasn’t enough. He’d be damned if he destroyed their world even more than he already had. He could play nice with the best of them.
Besides, he still loved Annie.
She just... didn’t love him anymore.
It was going to be a long month.