“Are you a prince?”
“No. I’ve never been a prince.” Despite what her mother used to say.
“I can’t wait to meet my daddy.”
A flash of emotion tightens my stomach, and I’m not sure what to do about this part. How do we tell this beautiful little girl the truth?
I watch her filling in a pink tutu on the page. “What if your mamma was just pretending and your daddy isn’t a prince?”
“Oh, he is.” Her eyebrows rise, and her expression is certain.
I put the blue crayon down and pick up a brown one, starting on the trunk of a tree. “What if he’s just a regular man—like your Uncle Sawyer?”
She stops coloring and presses her cute little mouth into a pout, thinking. “Is he a hero? Mamma says Uncle Sawyer’s a hero.”
My dream of earning Noel’s love, of being good enough to deserve her permeates my mind, tightening my throat. “He wanted to be a hero… but bad stuff happened. He went to a really dark place.”
“Like Prince Phillip?”
“I don’t know him.”
Her eyes grow serious. “He was trapped in a dark dungeon but Merryweather the fairy helped him to escape. Then he had to cut through big thorny bushes and fight a dragon before he could get to Sleeping Beauty and save her from the evil spell.”
“That’s pretty dark.” I consider the metaphorical aspects of her story and figure I can work with this. “He had to do something like that… but he’s still not a prince.”
Her head tilts to the side. “Is he a good man?”
I put the crayon down and pat her little back as I stand. I want to explain everything to her. I want to tell her even though we’ve just met, I’d cut through thorn bushes and fight a dragon for her. I want to tell her I’m her dad and I love her.
“He’s a better man.”
She nods, returning to her picture. “I think that’s okay.”
23
Noel
There should be a tornado siren before Taron Rhodes is allowed to appear in my kitchen that way.
Any kind of heads up would’ve been nice.
Instead he walked right through the door like some sexy version of the Ghost of Christmas Past and stopped my heart all over again.
And broke all the eggs.
My face flashed hot and cold, and for a moment, I thought I might follow the eggs to the floor. I did not faint. Somehow, I remained standing.
Then he took one look at our daughter… No need for a paternity test to know whose child Dove is. She has looked like a pinch off her daddy since the day she made her newborn appearance.
When he looked at me again, the question in his eyes wasn’t really a question. I silently answered, and his expression… At least two of us got the wind knocked out of us this morning.
He staggered out the door with my little brother hot on his heels. Leon took off like a house on fire, but Sawyer hesitated, watching them through the window.
“You knew he was coming?” My hands shook, but I kept my voice steady.
“Who is he?” Dove studied me, but I managed to smile.
“He’s… an old friend of Uncle Sawyer’s.” How could I tell her about her daddy just like that?
She was temporarily satisfied and returned to coloring Angelina Ballerina.
I returned to my brother. “You didn’t think this was something you should’ve told me?”
“He got here earlier than I expected.” Sawyer stood and went to the door. “I’d better check on them.”
I put a biscuit on a plate and ladled grits into a bowl for Dove. “Here, baby. Eat your breakfast now. I’m going to work on my store.”
“Aren’t you eating breakfast?” Her brow furrowed.
“I’ll eat in a few minutes. You stay at the house.”
Grabbing a few items of food out the fridge, I took off—needing to get away, to decide what to do about this.
More than an hour later I’ve swept the floor, the walls, the mantle over the small fireplace… Cobwebs are everywhere, and it’s almost symbolic.
I sweep and sweep and sweep. My insides are trembling and fragile. I thought I’d moved past this, but tears stream down my cheeks, coating my face in saltwater. I use my shirtsleeve to wipe them away. I’ve probably got dirt all over my face as a result.
Akela is right with me, sitting at the door and watching my every move.
I half expected her to run after him. She always loved Taron, but no, my faithful dog remains at my side, standing guard just like always.
“Figures he’d just show up without a word or a warning.” My voice shakes as I talk. I don’t know if it’s from how vigorously I’m cleaning or from how hard I’m shaking inside… or both. “What do you think he wants?”
Akela’s head tilts to the side, and I wonder what she would say.
My broom hits something loud and metal. Another dead rat in a trap.
I look at the brown, limp carcass. “I know the feeling, bud.”
Using the broom, I scoot him out the back door onto the small pile in the grass. Akela watches, not going near the mouse mass grave. I should get a cat.
With a shiver, I go back inside to where a bucket of wood soap and a mop, sponges, sanders, and knee pads are waiting for me. I plan to spend the whole day scrubbing this place top to bottom.
I’m just stepping into my knee pads when the hollow thump of boots on the wood floors draws my attention. Sawyer enters the room, his brows pulled together. “What the hell, Noel?”
His tone takes me aback. I straighten, putting my hands on my hips. “What the hell yourself.”
“I thought he knew about Dove.”
My shoulders drop. “Are you kidding me right now? That’s what you’re worried about?”
“You said you told him.”
“I said I was going to tell him.”
“So what happened?”
I exhale a frustrated breath. “Life? You act like I was just sitting around intentionally not telling him. I had to drop out of school because of him… Then Dove came, and I had to take care of her. Then I had to get back in school so I could take care of her, and the whole time my store was blowing up. I had to keep up with all the orders… Hell, it’s still a challenge sometimes…”
He shakes his dark head. “If that were me—”
“If it were me, I would’ve told my sister the father of her child was about to show up!”
“I was about to tell you last night. I told you, he got here early. Anyway, I thought you were in contact with him.”
“I haven’t spoken to him since…” Shaking my head, I fight the mist filling my eyes again. “He kicked me out, Sawyer. He told me to leave and never come back. His exact words were ‘Find somebody else.’”
“He was messed up. You of all people should have seen that.”
“No.” I will not let him cast me this way. “I went to him. I would’ve done anything to help him. I begged… and he kicked me out. Strike that. He didn’t kick me out, he screamed in my face to get out.”
My brother’s jaw clenches. I see the muscle move back and forth… then just as fast, his shoulders fall. His eyes meet mine, and he closes the space between us, pulling me into a tight hug. It takes half a second for me to relax and wrap my arms around his waist, hugging him back.