“Is it okay that I’m okay with her being asleep? I don’t know what I’d say.”
She chuckles. “Fair enough. I guess she has the upper hand since she knows your name.”
“Yeah, I guess she does. Do you think she’ll like me?”
Charlotte gets up from sitting and walks through the room. She keeps her phone focused on her face, making it hard for me to see where she’s going. A light comes on, and she sits down again. “I want to show you something. We are in my office, and this is a picture she drew in school a few years back.” She turns the camera around and zooms in. The drawing is of three people, two adults standing on either side of the child, holding hands. Above it, it reads “my family,” which brings another wave of tears. I wipe them away before Charlotte can see them.
“She’s going to love you, Jack. It may take her a bit to warm up, but I wouldn’t worry about her feelings or her being scared.”
“I’m worried she will have expectations that I can’t meet.”
“She’s nine. She expects the moon and then some,” Charlotte says, laughing. “Do you know when you can stop by, or we can meet you, someplace?”
“I have a wedding to go to tomorrow, and my buddy wants to tour Montreal, although I’m very tempted to get back into the car and drive back to Holyoak because I don’t want to wait to meet our daughter,” I pause and let the word “daughter” soak in. “Wow, that’s powerful.”
“I can imagine you’re probably going through the same things I went through when I found out I was pregnant.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” I tell her. “I would’ve been.”
“I know you would’ve, Jack. That’s why she knows about you . . . about us. It’s never crossed my mind you would’ve abandoned her.”
“Or you,” I point out.
Charlotte smiles but says nothing.
“I’ll be back in Holyoak in three days. I won’t have much time because we have to be back on base, but at least a day and a half. I’ll book a room.”
“I’ll take care of the room with my aunt, or you can stay with Arla and me. There’s a couch in my office, and we have a guest bedroom.”
“I don’t want to impose.”
She laughs again and shakes her head. “Your daughter is going to insist on it. Call me when you’re on your way.”
“I will.”
“Good night, Jack. I’m really happy you’re back in town.”
The video ends before I can say anything. I don’t know how long I stay out in the hall, an hour or longer, once we’ve hung up. I keep looking at the picture of Arla, trying to memorize her features. She looks like her mother, but maybe there’s a hint of me in there as well. It’s hard to say.
That night, I stare at the ceiling and wonder how different my life would be if I hadn’t boarded the bus that day.
Chapter Six
Charlotte
Arla stands in front of her mirror with her hands holding the hem of her dress. She insisted on getting a new one for this occasion even though I told her the ones she has hanging in her closet would do. Her new one is pink, much like the others, but with a small petticoat underneath, making the dress poof. I think she likes it because it fans out when she spins, but what do I know?
“You’re very pretty,” I tell her as I come into the room. Gently, I brush my hand down her hair, trying to tame the curls she asked for. She moves away and sends me a glare through the mirror.
“You’re going to mess my hair up.”
“I’m sorry.” I sit on the edge of her bed and continue to watch her. The morning after I spoke with Jack, I told Arla he was in town and asked if she wanted to meet him. In hindsight, I should’ve waited until after she was home from school because her teacher called two hours later, saying Arla was having trouble sitting still in class. I’ve since kept her home until after the meeting because she’s far too excited, and I don’t want her to get into trouble.
Arla turns and looks at me. “What if Jack doesn’t like me?”
“He’s going to love you.” I try to assure her with a smile.
“But what if he doesn’t?”
“Then it’s his loss, and we go about our day like any other day.”
She faces the mirror again. “Do I look like him?”
“I think so.”
“But Gram says I look like you.”
“It’s hard because Gram sees us together every day. If Gram saw Jack, she would probably say you look like him as well.”
“I suppose.” She studies herself, tilting her head from right to left. “I’m going to give him the pictures I drew.”
“I think he would like that. It gives him something to take back to his home.”
As soon as I say the word, her mood turns sour. There’s nothing like dangling a shiny new toy in front of them, only to take it back and say they can’t play with it for a long time. Jack lives an entire world away in her mind. I haven’t even discussed what a time zone means. That’s a whole other conversation for a different day and a battle I expect to lose with her. She’s nine, going on fifteen, and isn’t afraid to let me know it at times.
“Can you do me a favor, sweetie?”
Arla nods and looks in my direction.
“Please remember that Jack just found out about you, and he might be nervous. You know about social cues and when to back off, so watch for his. Okay?”
She nods. “What if I scare him away?”
Even though she’ll be mad because I might wrinkle her dress, I pull her toward me. I rub my nose against hers in a back-and-forth motion. “There is absolutely nothing scary about you, my sweet baby girl. You are kind, sweet, and perfect. Jack knows your name, what you look like, and he knows how much you care about him even though you’ve never met him. Just don’t forget, he has to leave. He has a very important job.”
“But he can come back, right?”
“He can visit you anytime he wants,” I tell her.
The doorbell rings, and her eyes go wide as her mouth drops open. Before I can form a response, she bolts from my arms and her room, yelling, “I’ve got it.” I’m hot on her trail even though my heart is pounding out of my chest. I feel sick to my stomach like I did the first time I invited Jack over when my parents were gone for the weekend.
Arla swings the door open and stands there with Jack on the other side. He looks better in person, rugged and handsome. He crouches down, focusing on Arla. She towers over him, but they’re staring at each other. I do everything I can to fight back the tears, but it’s impossible. I’ve pictured this moment a thousand times, but never like this. Never in the doorway of my home.
“Hi, I’m Jack,” he says, breaking the silence between them. He holds his hand out to shake hers. Arla’s head tilts downward, making me wonder what she’s thinking. She answers my thoughts when she launches herself into his arms. Jack picks her up and wraps his arms around her waist. We make eye contact and hold it until he covers his face with his hand. Behind Jack, there’s a shadow, and his friend comes into view. The last thing I want to do is interrupt Arla and Jack, so I motion for his friend to come into my house.