I wanted to tell Deacon he felt more like family to me than my actual kin, but that might have been too much to admit. I was always wary about saying things that might make him feel obligated. I wanted him to be the first to come to certain conclusions about us. He certainly told me he loved me enough; I just hoped his love didn’t have an expiration date.
“Well, your mother doesn’t know what she’s missing with her granddaughter.” His smile held a sad undertone. “Speaking of Sunny, do you think she’s old enough to appreciate going to a farm?”
“Like with animals?”
“Yup. This guy I work with, his family owns a farm upstate. It’s the type of place people pay to visit. I checked out their website. They have animals you can pet and a gift shop. You think she’d enjoy something like that?”
“Heck, if she didn’t, I’d definitely enjoy it. But yeah, I think she would. She lights up whenever we take her for walks and she sees a dog.”
“We should plan to go then. Maybe next weekend, if the weather is nice.”
“That sounds great.” I looked at the time. “We’d better get going. The sitter has to leave in a half-hour.”
“Shit. Okay.” He stood and reached out to pull me up. “This time always goes by so fast.”
“It does. And I appreciate you insisting we do it every week. It’s important to have this time together.”
I looked a bit sheepish. “I can’t help needing you all to myself sometimes.”
We got coffees from a truck on the walk back to the subway. Even that felt like a luxury when it was just the two of us. Slowly, I felt like I was coming back to myself, to the person I’d been before having Sunny. I loved being a mother, but until I started taking time for myself, I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed certain aspects of my life. Now it seemed I had it all.
Was it that I’d found myself again, or was it that Deacon made me feel complete?
CHAPTER 21
Deacon
LAST WORDS
I’d rented a car for the ninety-minute drive north to Poughkeepsie, and it had been a smooth ride with no traffic. This had definitely been a good idea. I now held Sunny up as she sat atop one of the ponies at Archwood Farms. She was always a happy child, but the ponies brought out a level of excitement I’d never witnessed before.
After the pony ride, I went to fetch Carys and me a couple of coffees from the small concession building, while she took Sunny to a grassy area with a bunch of pumpkins laid out. Sunny was now walking independently. While a little wobbly, she was fully mobile.
After I ordered our drinks, the woman I knew to be one of the owners of the farm smiled at me. “Your daughter looked like she was having so much fun out there. I’m so glad you guys could come up north today.”
We’d spoken to her briefly when we first arrived, but I didn’t realize she’d assumed I was Sunny’s father. I opened my mouth to correct her, but what came out was, “Thank you. Yeah…this was well worth the trip.” Was I actually entertaining the thought of a life with Sunny?
“You know,” she said. “We have something here called equine therapy. It’s designed for kids with special needs. She’s a little too small now, but it might be something to consider for the future.”
“What does it do?” I asked.
“Well, there are many physical and cognitive benefits to horseback riding. On the physical side, it can help improve balance and coordination and gross motor skills, among other things. And cognitively, it can help improve attention, communication, and spatial awareness. Not to mention all of the social and emotional benefits.”
“Do you have any information you can send me home with?”
“Sure do.” She reached into a drawer and took out a pamphlet for me.
“Thanks. I appreciate it.” Excited to tell Carys, I placed it in my back pocket.
As I waited for her to prepare the coffees—one cream and one sugar each—I realized that if a stranger had assumed I was Sunny’s father, Sunny had probably concluded that too. Does Sunny think I’m her dad? Technically, I was the only man she’d ever known. How did I feel about that? Right now I didn’t want to put a label on anything beyond my relationship with Carys. She was my girlfriend. I’d made that clear to her repeatedly. But her daughter didn’t have a designation, aside from being special to me. Spending time with Sunny made me genuinely happy; making her smile was one of the highlights of my life. Though it was hard to admit, I knew I did love Sunny. But that came with things I’d sworn I’d never have—and didn’t deserve to have. One day at a time.
The woman interrupted my thoughts when she handed me two steaming coffees. I grabbed a cardboard sleeve for each before placing the lids on.
“Can I also have one of these, too?” I asked, pointing to the pink cake pops.
“Of course.”
After I paid and returned outside, I located Carys and Sunny walking in my direction. They hadn’t noticed me yet, so I took a moment to appreciate the beautiful woman who belonged to me and her adorable child. Sunny nearly toppled over as she made her way forward with a heavy pumpkin in hand. When she spotted me approaching, Carys bent down to point me out to Sunny. The look on Sunny’s face as she noticed me was priceless; she sped up, seeming eager to get to me and so proud to be holding that pumpkin. It was a small one, but somehow looked humongous in her little hands.
When she reached me, she held out the pumpkin. She’d wanted to give it to me. My heart clenched. I didn’t deserve the pedestal this little angel had put me on. The trust she placed in me was pure and unlike anything else I’d experienced.
“What did you do?” I knelt, putting the coffees and cake pop down on the pavement before holding out my hands. “Is that for me?”
Her cheeks reddened, as if she felt shy about giving it to me. It was adorable.
I took the pumpkin in one hand and pulled her close with the other. “Thank you so much. I love it,” I whispered in her ear. “And I love you, too.”
I meant every word. I loved Sunny.
Carys’s eyes locked on mine. Now she knew where my heart was. More and more, I’d surrendered to the fact that even if I hadn’t chosen this life, it had chosen me. And I felt like the luckiest man alive most days.
As for that doubt that gnawed at me? The voice that told me I didn’t deserve any of this? The voice that told me I would inevitably fail at this, just like everything else that had been important to me? I’d have to practice telling it to fuck off.
* * *
On the ride back to the city, we played some Bee Gees in the rental car and rolled the windows down on the highway.
Sunny loved the feel of the wind on her face, which triggered a fit of laughter and screams of joy. It had been an accidental discovery when I rolled the wrong window down on the way up here.
Her blond hair blew all over the place, her eyes half closed against the wind.
“She loves living on the edge,” I said over the noise. “Maybe she’ll grow up to be a biker chick.”
Carys laughed. “Let’s not wish for that. I’d worry too much.”