Swimming Lessons

by Mary Alice Monroe

  He sounded so sincere that the words had the power to wound her. She closed her eyes and shook her head. “No, Darryl.”

  “Just let me meet my daughter. That’s enough for now. Let me meet her and tell her who I am.” When Toy hesitated he said with feeling, “Toy, she is my daughter!”

  “You might be her birth father, but you’re not a real father, the one who was there for her every day of her life. Darryl, I’m not sure it’s best for her to meet you. You’re not part of her life. You’re not her family.”

  “I suppose you think that Cara is her family.”

  “Don’t you be saying anything bad about Cara,” she said, warning in her voice. “She’s been real good to me and Lovie. I don’t know what we’d have done without her after you dumped us at the shelter. Yes, she is family.”

  “Your family, huh? Well, I’ll say this for you, you’ve come up in the world.” He stretched out his long legs. She noticed the heels of his boots were worn clear down to wood. “Do you ever see your real family?”

  “Cara and Brett are my real family.”

  “I’ll take that as a no.”

  “Take it any way you like. There’s no love lost between them and me. You know that better than anyone.”

  “Have they met our daughter?”

  “My daughter,” she amended and crossed her arms across her chest. “And no, they haven’t.”

  “You haven’t brought her over to see my mother, either.”

  “Your mother? Why would I do that?”

  “She’s real hurt she’s never seen her own grandchild.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding! Maybe you can ask her why she—and her son—never came by to see his child. Why should…” Feeling her temper about to blow, she exhaled slowly. “Darryl, I don’t think we should argue about your mother or my mother right now. They’re the least of our concerns. In fact, I think this conversation is over.” She gathered her purse and tossed her napkin on the table to leave.

  Darryl shot his arm out to grasp her hand. “I didn’t come back for trouble,” he said in earnest. “Hear me out. Please.”

  She stared pointedly at his hand, his long, tapered fingers wrapped around her wrist. Feeling them again on her skin triggered a maelstrom of emotions inside of her. Those fingers had elicited pleasure in her past—and pain. She must never forget that, she told herself.

  “I’ll listen,” she said, pulling her arms to her side. “For a little while.”

  He drew his hands back to rest on his side of the table. He stared at them a moment before speaking. “I know there’s nothing I can say or do to make you forget what I done. I was damn stupid and thoughtless. I had everything a man could want and I walked way.”

  “Yes, you did. And you didn’t look back. Not once in more than five years.”

  He looked up to meet her gaze. “I’m sorry.”

  She blinked, surprised by the apology. She cleared her throat of the emotion welling up in it. “You made your choice.”

  “Toy, please. Let me make it up to you. Give me another chance.”

  “It’s too late.”

  He closed his eyes with a grimace and sought to regain control. Opening them again, he was calmer. It disarmed her.

  “All right, then. It might be too late for us. I have to accept that. But it’s not too late to get to know my daughter. You might not want to know me, but she might. Don’t you think it’s high time for her to get to know her daddy, too?”

  “I can’t be having you hurt her like you hurt me, Darryl.”

  “I won’t. I would never. I know you have reason to doubt me. I treated you bad and I’m sorry. But I was young. We both were. But we’re older now and I’ve come to understand what I’ve missed. I want to be in Lovie’s life, in any way you’ll let me. And maybe, God willing, you’ll let me back in your life. But I ain’t asking for that now. All I’m asking for—begging for—is a chance to know my daughter. Just to let her know she has a father. Me,” he said, jabbing at his chest with emotion. “I’ll make you proud, Toy. I swear I will.”

  She turned her head, not wanting him to see the emotion in her face. Isn’t this what she’d always hoped would happen? Her dreams when she was pregnant that Darryl would somehow change and acknowledge that he was a father came rushing back, leaving her awash in indecision. Could she really deny either Darryl or Lovie the chance to get to know each other?

  God help me, she thought as she took a breath and released her answer.

  “I’ll think it over. For Lovie’s sake.”

  Later that evening, Toy tucked Lovie into bed. Her daughter’s breath smelled of peppermint toothpaste and her skin of sweet soap. After she finished reading the bedtime story, she turned off the bedside lamp and lay back in the bed for what Lovie called her “chat with the lights off.” It was only in the secrecy of darkness that Lovie shared her innermost thoughts.

  “Did you have a nice dinner?” Lovie asked Toy.

  Toy laced her hands across her belly. “It was okay. I had shrimp. How about you?”

  “Auntie Flo made hamburgers,” she said in a ho-hum tone. “Did you see a dolphin?”

  “No. I didn’t sit by the window.”

  “Oh, too bad.” She paused and made steeples with her fingers. “Did you go out with that man?”

  “Darryl? Yes, I did.”

  “Not Ethan?”

  “No.” Toy waited for Lovie to say something more and when she didn’t, she closed her eyes and they lay side by side in the darkness. Toy struggled with what she’d come to tell Lovie. How do you ask your child if she wants to meet her father, she wondered? She’d never read this in any parenting book.

  Yet, every instinct in her body was telling her what to do. Toy had spent a lifetime wondering who her own father was, what he looked like, what his personality was, whether she took after him in any way. There were no photographs of him, no mementos of him growing up. Whenever she’d asked about him her mother had curled her lip and spat out a dismissal. “Him? That lazy, no-count mongrel. I bless the day he left me. Don’t talk to me about him. Ever!”

  Eventually Toy learned to stop asking but the emptiness remained to fester in her heart. She still harbored the uneasy belief that the reason her mother had been so cruel to her was because she was her father’s daughter. There had never been any discussion, or honesty, about him. Instead, her father had been clouded in mystery. Even now she wondered about him. Sometimes, when she looked at Lovie, she wondered if her daughter’s eyes, her smile, her quick temper—any part of her—resembled that man she’d never met. She would rather have known all about her father, the good and the bad, than know nothing at all.

  Darryl was right. He was Lovie’s father, warts and all. Toy had always been honest and true with her daughter. She could not back down from the truth now.

  Toy opened her eyes and tried to form her words. “Honey, there’s something I need to tell you about that man you met this morning. About Darryl. Are you listening?”

  “Yes.”

  “He is an old friend of mine. A very special friend.” She paused, garnering her courage. “Honey, that man…Darryl…is your daddy.”

  Lovie didn’t move or speak and Toy tensed in the darkness, waiting.

  “Did you hear what I said?”

  “He’s my daddy?” She said the word daddy slow, like she was playing with the feel of it in her mouth.

  “Yes.”

  “But my daddy is in Cafonia.”

  “He was in California but he came back here to see you.”

  “To see me?”

  “Yes. And me, too.” Toy turned on her side to closely watch her daughter’s expressions. Her eyes were accustomed to the dim light and she saw that Lovie’s eyes were opened and staring at the ceiling. Toy couldn’t read any emotion in her expression.

  “Is that okay with you? Because you don’t have to see him if you don’t want to. I could tell him to go away and that would be the end of it. It doesn’t matter to me if you se
e him or not. I just want you to be happy. You get to decide.” She paused. “Do you want to see him?”

  “I guess.”

  Toy was surprised by Lovie’s lack of enthusiasm. She thought she’d be all over the chance to meet her father. For so long she kept asking about him, where he was, when he was coming back. She’d embarrassed Toy countless times trying to draft any man who was even nice to them into the role of her daddy.

  “You don’t seem very happy about all this.”

  “Does it mean you’re going to marry him?”

  “Darryl? Oh, honey, no.”

  “But he’s my daddy.”

  “Yes, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to marry him.”

  “But then we could be a family.” Her voice rose with a pleading note.

  Hearing it near broke Toy’s heart. “It’s confusing for a child, I know. And I’m sorry. I know you want a daddy and a family. I do, too. But not in that way.”

  “If you don’t marry him, does that mean you can marry Ethan?”

  “Oh, honey! Let’s not worry about Ethan right now. Do you want to see Darryl?” When she didn’t answer, Toy prodded her. “Lovie?”

  “I want to.”

  Toy flopped on her back and rested the back of her palm against her forehead. This day had utterly depleted her. “Okay then. I’ll arrange for you to see him.”

  “When?”

  “Soon.”

  “Is tomorrow okay?”

  This was all going so fast. “How about the day after tomorrow?”

  “Okay.” Lovie turned on her side, showing her back to her mother.

  Toy turned to lie like spoons with her daughter. She wrapped an arm across her body, pulling it close against her in a snug, then rested her face against Lovie’s soft, wispy hair. Closing her eyes, she remembered the day Lovie was born. God had given her this gift in the midst of a fierce, roiling hurricane. When the doctor had handed her this small miracle wrapped in a pink blanket, Toy had felt then, as she felt now, overwhelmed with love for her. She knew without question that it was her love for this child that had changed her life.

  She lay for a long time listening to the soft whistling breaths from her daughter’s lips. Her lids grew heavy as her heart lightened, and in time, her own breathing blended into the gentle rhythm as sleep came.

  17

  Toy made arrangements to go into work late the following day. She dropped Lovie at Flo’s and went directly to Cara’s house for a confidential talk with her friend. When she arrived she was touched that Cara had set a pretty table on her porch overlooking Hamlin Creek. She’d placed a cheery pale blue plaid tablecloth over the wood table and served fresh strawberries, muffins and sweet tea.

  “I’m so glad you called,” Cara told her when they sat down. She began pouring tea. The ice crackled in the tall glasses. “It’s been ages since you’ve stopped by just to sit and chat. Since summer began, there never seems to be a free moment.”

  Toy nodded, staring at a drop of condensation trailing down her glass. Under the table her foot wagged. She was anxious to ease her troubled mind about Darryl.

  Cara flicked her gaze up from the tea, zeroing in on Toy’s face. She finished pouring and took a seat opposite Toy. “Is everything okay?”

  “I just wanted to talk to you.”

  “Oh?” Cara asked, spreading her napkin on her lap. She lifted her glass to her lips and narrowed her eyes. “This wouldn’t have to do with a certain tall, dark and handsome guy, would it?”

  Toy almost choked on her tea. Across the table, Cara’s dark eyes glittered.

  “You know?”

  “Mama knows all.”

  “Who told you?”

  “Little pitchers have big ears.”

  “Little Lovie? But when?”

  “At lunch the other day. She let slip that a certain man from the Aquarium was coming for sleep-overs.”

  Toy had to sit back and stare at her hands a moment before she put the pieces together.

  “You mean Ethan?”

  Cara’s lips twitched. “Is there someone else?”

  “Oh, honey, buckle your seat belt.”

  Cara popped a berry in her mouth, eyes glittering with curiosity.

  Toy took a deep breath. “It’s Darryl.”

  All mirth fled from Cara’s face. She finished chewing her strawberry, swallowed, then wiped her mouth with her napkin. “Darryl?” she asked with forced calm.

  Toy nodded.

  “Darryl?” she repeated in a higher voice. “Don’t even tell me you’ve talked to that man again. After all these years?”

  “He showed up at the beach house yesterday morning,” Toy explained.

  “Oh, God.” Cara’s hand went to her cheek. “What did you do?”

  “Nothing at first. I was so shocked I just stood like an idiot and stared at him.”

  “Why did you open the door?”

  “I didn’t! Lovie did.”

  “Lovie?” She took a breath. “Little Lovie was there? She saw him?”

  Toy nodded. “And met him. What else could I do?”

  “Slam the door in his face is the first option that came to my mind.”

  “He’d only knock again, and keep on knocking. You know Darryl well enough to know he won’t just walk away when he wants something.”

  Cara’s face grew as hard as stone. “And what does he want?”

  “He wants to get to know his daughter.” She looked at her hands. “And to ask my forgiveness.”

  “That’s bullshit and you know it.”

  “Cara…”

  “You can’t be taken in by him. Not again. Toy, don’t look away. Listen to me, please. You’ve worked too hard to slip back to his level.”

  “He is her father,” Toy argued back.

  “He’s a sperm donor. Nothing more.”

  Toy drew back, affronted. She was spared having to come up with a reply when Emmi came strolling out onto the porch, singing out hellos. She’d abandoned the tight fitting clothes and was wearing plain khaki shorts and a green turtle team T-shirt.

  When she reached the table, she looked from Toy to Cara, very aware of the tension in the air.

  “What’s going on?” Emmi asked.

  “Darryl’s back in town,” Cara answered.

  “Guys like that are bad news. Take it from me, stay away,” Emmi said, sitting down.

  Cara nodded, gaining steam. “This man is trouble. You know he’s trouble. There’s a reason you broke up. Don’t forget, he’s the bastard who abandoned you when you’d just given birth to his child.”

  “I know, believe me I know,” Toy replied testily. “I was there.”

  “I’m sorry,” Cara said, reaching out for her hand. “I don’t mean to jump down your throat. Well, yes, I do. But I don’t want him to hurt you again. Or Lovie.”

  “He’s changed.”

  Emmi rolled her eyes. “Oh, boy, here we go. I’ll bet he said he was sorry, too.”

  He did, but Toy didn’t reply. She looked at her hands.

  “Did he go inside the beach house?” Cara asked.

  Toy felt the same quivering of her spine that she did five years earlier when she feared Miss Lovie’s and Cara’s disapproval of Darryl. Back then she’d been compelled to lie and sneak. Now, she felt a rising indignation at being intimidated to the point of considering sneaking again. Or being told who could or could not be allowed into the home that she was renting. Didn’t she have a voice in her own life? It was an age-old stand-off between her and Cara.

  Toy was done with having to prove she was not a troubled, pregnant teen any longer. She straightened her spine and folded her hands on the table. “You might as well know it all. Yes, I invited him in. We had a brief chat. I made it clear I wasn’t thrilled to see him and he did his best to be polite. Then I asked him to leave.”

  “Good,” Emmi said.

  Toy looked at her. “Then I went out to dinner with him.”

  She saw the look of shock on their slack-j
awed faces.

  “You should have seen Little Lovie’s face,” Toy argued. “She was hanging on his chair, her eyes wide, just dying to know who this man was.”

  “You didn’t tell her!” Cara said.

  She nodded her head curtly.

  Cara slid back in her chair with a sigh of disbelief.

  “Cara, Darryl is her father. Like it or not, nothing will change that fact.” Toy raised her hands, silencing the objections she knew were coming from Emmi’s open mouth. “I was careful. I didn’t want to talk to him in front of Lovie so we went to Shem Creek to discuss it. We had a nice meal and we sorted a few things out. We had left things in a bad way. I need closure on this, and apparently so does he.”

  “Closure?” Emmi asked, appalled. “He never opened the damned door to begin with. What’s he need closure for?”

  Cara swirled the tea, her face serious. “What’s next?”

  “He wants to come see Lovie.”

  “See Lovie?” Cara repeated, as though trying to get the concept to stick in her mind. “Surely you’re not going to allow that?”

  Toy looked Cara straight in the eye. “Yes, Cara, I am.”

  “Toy, what are you thinking? This man walked out on you, on his daughter. He has a very serious temper. And he’s violent. He hit you before, remember. And what about Lovie? Are you thinking about her?”

  Anger flared in Toy. “Of course I’m thinking of her! I’m always thinking of her! Cara, I know what it’s like not to know who your father is. I don’t want my daughter to go through what I did, or to suffer the same, crippling lack of self esteem. If Lovie doesn’t answer those questions in her mind now, she’ll always wonder about that other half of herself that she doesn’t know anything about. She’ll wonder why he never cared enough to meet her. Or to know her. She’ll wonder how she mattered so little that he could’ve just walked away.”

  Toy’s voice began to break and she put her hand to her trembling lips.

  Across the table, Cara and Emmi shared a glance and were silenced.

  Toy wiped her eyes and struggled to regain her composure. “I didn’t mean to get emotional.”

  “It’s an emotional subject,” Cara replied kindly, dispelling the tension. “What is it about fathers, anyway? God knows I certainly don’t have any answers there. My father and I were always on opposite sides of any argument. Growing up, I often wished I didn’t know him.”