“I’m so sorry it’s taken me this long for you to find out.”
“I’m sorry it’s taken me this long to return.”
We part, and both dab at our eyes. My heart aches for him. Jack clears his throat and reaches for my hand again. “Where do we go from here?” he asks.
“Well,” I say after taking a deep breath. “We can go to eat lunch and let Arla tell us what to do.”
Jack laughs. “I can already sense she’s going to be the death of me.”
“The perfect way to die if you ask me.”
He looks up and smiles. He pulls the box of photos onto his lap. “I’m going to look at each picture until I have them all memorized.”
I take the one in his hand and flip it over. “They’re date stamped, with a little note of what we were doing or what milestone it’s for.”
“Wow, it’ll be like I was there. What made you do this?”
“You,” I tell him. “I figured if I ever found you or we crossed paths again, you’d want to know your child has had the best life possible.”
He shed a tear and doesn’t bother to wipe it away. Jack continues to go through the photos and finds one of us. “Blast from the past.”
“I put that in there after Arla used it for a school project. I’m not sure why.”
Jack chuckles. “It’s so when I’m back on base and lonely, I can look at it and remember that summer. That one, unforgettable summer.”
Chapter Seven
Jack
Today has been a day of firsts. The most important being the meeting of my daughter. My daughter. The concept is so hard to grasp even though the evidence is right in front of me. Arla looks like me and even has a few of my mannerisms. Earlier, Arla laughed at something her mom did. Her laugh was infectious and brought a smile to my face. I wish I would’ve written down what exactly happened to make her laugh so I can remember it when I’m back in Italy or had my phone recording all day. I’m afraid I’m going to forget all of this.
Another first, I finally feel like I belong somewhere, almost as if I’m home on leave and my family is happy to have me here. There isn’t anything awkward about being here, I don’t feel uncomfortable, and when Arla has asked her mom to do something, Charlotte suggests she ask me, her dad. Her dad.
And then came bedtime. Arla asked me to read her favorite book to her. I jumped at the opportunity and sat near her head to read the words. She told me her mom has been reading this book for as long as she can remember, and though she’s nine, she doesn’t want her mom to stop. When we finished, I made a note of the title to have one sent to base. I want to read the story so Arla and I can talk about it when I’m back in Italy.
When I come out of Arla’s room, I walk into the living room. There’s a fire in the pellet stove, and it’s relatively quiet. I lean against the doorjamb and watch Charlotte, who is curled up on the couch with a blanket over her legs and a book on her lap.
“Hey, how’d it go?” she asks, closing the book and setting it on the table next to the sofa.
“It was one of the most amazing experiences of my life. I can’t even explain it.”
“I know what you mean.”
I push off the doorjamb and walk toward Charlotte. She moves the blanket away from the cushion next to her, which makes me pause. Does she want me to sit there even though the seat at the end is available? Maybe she does. I know I do. I sit down with a happy sigh, one of contentment and elation.
“What a day,” I say.
“I’m glad you could shorten your sightseeing trip with Mitch to come here. It means a lot to Arla and to me as well.”
Glancing at her, I smile. “After what you said on the phone, a hurricane wouldn’t be able to keep me away. I’m just sorry I can’t stay longer.”
“We wish you could stay longer too.”
“We?” I question.
She nods and reaches for my hand. I give it to her willingly. “We. I feel like we have a lot of lost time to make up for. I know Arla wants you to stay. She has a list of things she wants to show you.”
“I want to stay,” I tell her. “I haven’t wanted something so desperately until now. In a matter of hours, you’ve given me the one thing I’ve never had—a family.”
Charlotte smiles. I know we haven’t seen each other in ten years, and I’m probably reading into things but damn it if I don’t want to kiss her. My luck, she has a boyfriend. But if she does, would she hold my hand?
“Can I ask you a few questions?”
“Of course,” she says.
“Some of them might be a bit personal.”
“I’m a big girl, Jack. I can take it.”
I chuckle and shake my head. Shy is never a word I would use with Charlotte. Inhaling deeply, I prepare for the questions lingering in my mind. “Okay, here goes nothing,” I say as I look at her again. “Has Arla ever referred to another guy as dad?”
Charlotte’s head shakes back and forth so fast her hair whips her in her face. “Absolutely not. From the day I found out I was pregnant, I knew you were her father. I said this when we were on the phone the other night, I tried to get a message to you, my attempts were futile. I asked my family to help, but . . .” Charlotte stops talking, making me wonder what her family thought.
“They weren’t happy?”
She shakes her head. “My parents weren’t thrilled. They talked about adoption, and at first, I went along with it because I was young. Then I saw Arla on the screen during my ultrasound and promised her I’d be the best mom possible.”
“You did all of this by yourself?”
“No, I had my grandma. She was very supportive. My cousin Frankie—do you remember her?”
“I do, and Ginger, right?”
“Yeah, Ginger Ward. I had a good team, and my parents worship Arla. She is the light of their lives, as with my grandparents. She’s the best thing to ever happen to me.”
“It can’t be easy dating.”
Charlotte laughs. I don’t know why, but it makes me smile. “If you want to know if I have a boyfriend, just ask. I’ll save you the time—I don’t. I haven’t dated since you left. It’s never felt right, and I’ve never wanted some random man coming around Arla. Too many horror stories, and she’s far too important for some guy.”
I’m thankful Charlotte can’t hear my heart beating because right now, it’s thumping loudly. I can’t tell if it’s because she hasn’t dated anyone since I left or if it’s because her love for our daughter outweighs her happiness.
Oh, who the hell am I kidding—my heart is going wild because I like her, and she’s single. I sort of expected her to be when Krew told me to call her, but I didn’t want to assume.
“If I had run into your brother, would he have told me to call you?”
“Yeah, anyone who knew you back then would’ve told you to call. You’re not a dirty little secret. You’re my daughter’s father. You’re family.”
“I’m family.” Those words bring a wave of tears forward. To some, it’s just a word and doesn’t mean anything. To me, it means I have a place to call home. It means people love me. I cover my face with my hand to hide my reaction. Within seconds, warm arms wrap around me.