One More Breath

by Delaney Williams

  First through the door are Brittany and Lola. The look on Brittany’s face is remarkable, considering she really shouldn’t be able to make those expressions with that much Botox. “What’s this?!” she screeches.

  Cora steps up. “Ander thought Lola deserves a birthday party, seeing as she is turning eighteen and can now make her own decisions. Lola, how do you feel about a party?”

  Brittany’s face is volcanic. Lola, however, is calm and amazed. “I have never had a birthday. My dad did this for me? He knows about me?”

  My heart is breaking. This is worse than I thought. Not only is Brittany keeping all of the money Ander is sending, but she told Lola her father didn’t exist or care.

  “Lola?” We all turn and see Ander standing at the door. It sounds like he is on the verge of tears. I run to him and he opens his arms, whispering in my ear, “You did this in your little lie, didn’t you?” I nod. “I love you so entirely, Leire MacCarthaigh. Never doubt that.” He hugs me and walks to his daughter.

  ANDER

  She did this? Leire set it up so I could see my daughter? Having seen Brittany enter the shop and wondering what she was doing here, I had been standing in the door the entire time. When I heard Lola say she had never had a party, my heart hurt. However, when she said she didn’t know if her dad knew of her or loved her, I lost it. That fucking woman is not only keeping all of the money, but is also telling my daughter I don’t care for her when she is, and always has been, my main priority. I hug Leire tight, and head over to my daughter. I don’t even know where to start. I don’t have a gift.

  “Lola, I’m Ander, your father. I know you don’t know me well, and that your mother has told you a bunch of sh…crap about me, but I have always been here. I have been trying to see you since your mother left with you. I send you presents and money frequently, but I guess you’ve never got them.” I stop and glare at Brittany, who just shrugs. “So, I guess I will just start with I love you. I have always loved you, beautiful girl, and happy eighteenth birthday.”

  Lola looks up at me with tears rolling silently down her face, and throws herself into my arms. I hug her so tightly, I never want to let her go. My daughter is here. I look over my shoulder at Leire, who is also crying silently. I love that woman with all that I am. She points to the little table loaded with gifts and a cake. “Lola, why don’t we do gifts and cake?” I ask her, looking into her face.

  She wipes her cheeks, smiles at me, and nods. Hand-in-hand, we walk over to the table. I notice most of the presents are addressed to her from me, with a few from Wyatt and Cora, but I also saw an envelope addressed to me from Leire. I pick it up and look at her, but she shakes her head. Not yet, apparently.

  Lola begins ripping into the presents like a small child, having never really had the chance to open presents before. God knows my ex-wife didn’t take the time or effort to wrap anything or put together a party. She probably just handed her a gift card with a small amount on it. It turns out that Leire did the shopping and nailed the items perfectly. There are more clothes and shoes than one girl could possibly need. There is a gift certificate for MAC, the makeup store, to get a makeover and purchase the items they use. My shy girl is blossoming before my eyes. When she had walked up to me, head down and submissive, my heart was heavy. Now, she is smiling and laughing, flitting from person to person to show each item…except her mother. She never walks over there. Brittany sits on the couch the entire time, trying to pout. It is rather comical.

  It turns out Wyatt and Cora closed the shop so we have the day to focus on Lola. I want to take her to dinner tonight so she can meet her grandparents. When I introduce her to Leire, Leire sobs and tells her if she is anything like her father, she knows she will be an amazing young woman. Lola looks stunned. I don’t think her mother ever told her she is worth anything, that she is loved. I hate that woman with a passion now, and am going to do everything in my power to take my daughter back. I think Leire sees the determination in my eyes because she nods at the envelope.

  I open it and begin reading. The more I read, the angrier and more stunned I get. How the fuck did I not know all of this? I suspected my money wasn’t going to my daughter, but I didn’t think it went this far. I see red. I look up and Brittany must have seen the hatred in my eyes because she cowers back in the couch, trying to disappear.

  “You and me…outside. Now.”

  She stands and follows me, apparently not willing to face my wrath in front of everyone, even though I wouldn’t have minded the public beat down.

  “Dad, wait!” I hear Lola yell. I stop and turn, and she throws herself into my arms. It is one of the best moments of my life. “Thank you so much,” she quietly says in my ear.

  “You’re welcome, baby girl. I love you with all my heart. You are always welcome here. I am here whenever you need me, okay?”

  She nods. “Also, I really like Leire. She is funny and special, Dad. You need to keep her.”

  Silly little girl. “Of course I am keeping her. I will always do everything in my power to keep both of you. And, on that note, I need to go deal with your mother. You spend some time with my friends and get to know Leire better. I’ll be back.” With that, I kiss her forehead and walk out, Brittany following.

  When I get her outside, I confront her with the paperwork. That she has never spent a dime of my money on Lola, that she is forced to wear hand-me-downs… Leire went so far as to have signed letters from the parents of Lola’s friends as to the treatment of my daughter. How Brittany would leave her at a friend’s house for days. I know what she was off for days doing, but I am saving that for last. When she tries to make excuses for everything by saying being a single mom is hard and I don’t make it any easier because I don’t send enough money, I lose it.

  I pull the final set of papers out of the envelope, pictures and all, and hand them to her. Her face goes ashen. “You’re a fucking cokehead. You leave your daughter for days at friends’ houses so you can go fuck or suck whomever you need to so you can get the high you crave once you’ve blown, literally, through the money I send every month for MY DAUGHTER. I will be taking these to the divorce attorney tomorrow, and you will be saying goodbye to the money and your daughter. You will go inside and tell Lola goodbye, and you will see her again when the lawyers determine it is appropriate. Lola is mine. I will raise her. Leire, if she will have me, and I will be a family and give her all the love you have failed to give.”

  “That girl you are fucking? She isn’t even whole. She’s sick. God, Ander. You talk about wanting to have a family, but did you know she can’t even give you children? I can give you more children. We can have what we used to. We can be a family again. I can get help and give it up. I will do better. Just give me a chance, baby. What we had was great. We deserve that again, don’t we?”

  She is ranting. I look at her overly skinny body, obviously seeing the effects of the cocaine addiction, and snort with disgust. When she sees that her renewal tactic isn’t working, she moves to mean. “What kind of family are you going to be together anyway? A barren, cancer-ridden, sick woman, and a tattoo artist raising an adult child who should be fending for herself just like I did. She is doing just fine by herself. I taught her to be strong and to rely on no one, just like you taught me.” At this point, she begins rambling and repeating herself, making no sense.

  “You’re high right now, aren’t you?” I ask. She blinks, and I can see the glaze in her eyes. I shake my head and tell her this is the end. She has no say in my life or that of her daughter. Lola is mine and if she wants to fight it, I will inform the courts of her coke addiction. Her demeanor crumbles and she walks dejectedly to her car. I, on the other hand, have a party to attend.

  When I turn around, I am startled to see Leire leaning against the door, a small smile on her face. I haven’t really seen her smile since that doctor’s appointment and it makes my heart happy. “Leire, baby, do you know how much what you have done means to me?” I say, approaching her.

>   She reaches up and wraps her hands around my neck. “I was hoping. It was a little spur of the moment, but well worth the punishment, if I do say so.”

  I smile. “You can earn punishments whenever you want, but I will never hurt you. And we will also make love. The sweet, slow, tender kind I am planning on giving you tonight.” I feel her shiver. I love this girl. It is getting nearly impossible not to say it.

  She looks up at me. “Can I give you some more news? I think its good news but, either way, you need to know.” I nod. “I’m pregnant, Ander.”

  Holy fuck. In one afternoon, I have gone from no family to an entire one of my own. Wait. If she knew this… “The doctor called, didn’t he?”

  “Yes.” She beams at me. “I have never once had a period, never been told I could even have a child. This baby of ours is a miracle. And I know we need to go in and party, but I am tired from this day and nauseous from the cake, so I am going to cut out soon and go home, okay? No punishments, please.”

  “Baby, no punishments until I meet with this doctor and we find out what is and is not okay. You get that? Until then, you get vanilla Ander, whoever he is.” I smirk. This might be fun.

  I grab her into a huge hug and give her a breathtaking, soul consuming kiss. The kind of kiss that makes you move into the other person so that you are no longer two people but one. We have that now. I kiss her until we are forced to quit for fear of people sending a search party for us. We hold hands and return to the party where Lola is knee deep in wrapping paper and smiling like a kid. Best. Day. Ever.

  LEIRE

  Well, that went better than planned. We are a family now. No questions asked. I think my smile can be seen from space. Upon re-entering the party, I watch Lola have the most fun she has ever had before, eating entirely too much cake and promptly passing out on the couch. Cora and Wyatt clean the mess, while I box up her presents and load them into the back of Ander’s pickup. He gently picks up his daughter, who snuggles into him, and gently places her into the back seat of the extended cab, somehow getting the seat belt on her. I turn to give him a hug.

  “You don’t think you get to give me the best day of my life in years and then head home, do you?”

  “Umm… Your daughter is here, we aren’t quiet, and I’m tired. I need sleep, not sex, Ander.”

  “I get that. But what you are failing to understand is that you will get all that from me. We will run by your place and get enough clothes to last a while, then you are coming to my place. Tomorrow morning, we are going to make an appointment with the best doctor in town and we will take it from there. All of that is me taking care of you. You take care of our little one. That is your only job. Make sure you take care of yourself and the baby, and we will be fine.”

  I blink. Okay. It seems I am temporarily moving in and becoming part of a family. I hug him tightly. “Yes, Ander. Yes to all of it.”

  He smiles and I get into the passenger seat of his truck, then he drives to his home. Once there, he moves a still sleeping Lola to a bedroom that looks like he has been updating it for a girl for years. This is the perfect teenage girl room…minus the posters. It is sad how very little he actually knows of his nearly grown daughter. I am overwhelmed, physically and emotionally, and near tears when he picks me up and carries me to his bed. He carefully starts removing all my clothes, stopping and staring at my belly as if he can already see or hear the little baby inside it. He gently kisses my tummy and moves on, removing the rest of my clothes. He then wraps me in a soft blanket and carries me to the bathroom, where I discover what has to have been the world’s largest bath.

  As I look at him with my eyebrows raised, he says, “What? I am a big man and a bath feels good after being bent over, tattooing all day.” He acts like it’s normal to have a Turkish-sized bath in your house. Whatever. I love him, so he can have his massive bath.

  When he begins filling it, I look at him and get the stern, Dom look. Not asking. Not. Asking. Waiting, waiting, waiting… Good god. Is there any water left in the city? When the tub is full and he adds some masculine, yet very sweet-smelling salts, he gently lowers us into the tub.

  “You had a busy day. You did all of this for me and Lola, all the while carrying a baby who shouldn’t be there. That is a miracle and I love it, but you need to relax and let me take care of you now. My mom always said I moved fast. If I want something, I do what I need to do to get it as soon as possible. She said Christmas was hard because I had always saved and bought what I wanted before they could get it. It was the same with the Rose. I wanted to tattoo and I wanted to be the best. So I trained and trained, working my ass off and got there. But, really, what did I have? I had a shop that made me money. An ex-wife who was sucking me dry, not only in money but in soul. A daughter I was dying to know but couldn’t out of fear because of some strange reasoning that I was unworthy. Then through the door walks this quiet, small, beautiful angel who asks for the biggest and most complex tattoo I have ever attempted, never flinching the entire time. She was an anomaly. She was quiet and introverted, like me. It was like a female version of me had come in the door. I wanted her the moment I saw her.

  “I immediately had Cora clear my entire day for you. It was you from the moment I looked up. I don’t know how God, or whoever is in charge, times things, but I do know this. There is no time limit on love. Love can last a moment or a lifetime. It can be a summer fling or a wartime affair. Whatever love is, though, you must grab it because if you don’t, what is this life for? What was that war for? Why remember that summer? That one moment of love may be enough to keep a heart going for a lifetime, and that lifetime of love brings about generations of more love. So, no matter how soon this is, I am going to tell you that I love you, Leire. With all I am, I love you.

  “We don’t have to get married now or even engaged. This is between us and the baby, and we should probably let Lola know, but we will be a family and we will face whatever comes our way together, as one. No questions. Just nod, kiss me, and let me wash your hair and stress away so you and the baby can sleep, okay?”

  I turn and curl into him, letting him have his way, washing my day and aches away. When he is done, he dries me so gently, it brings tears to my eyes. Again, he kisses my belly and lifts me up to put me in the bed. Naked. I look at him, raising my eyebrows. “No clothes,” he growls.

  “Eighteen-year-old in the house now, remember?”

  “Ugh… My shirt then.” And he takes one from his drawer and slides it over my head and arms before lying me back. I think I am asleep the moment my head hits the pillow but I faintly hear him tell me he loves me.

  LEIRE

  I awoke wrapped in a pair of strong arms. It’s not like I haven’t ever slept with or spent the night with a man before, but this is different. This is comforting. Somewhere in the midst of the night, he permanently crawled into my heart. My body knows his. It feels his devotion. I feel at home, at peace. It is the most blessed moment I have had in life so far. Then I remember the baby. I reach down to my belly, trying to imagine it fuller, rounder with life. A life the doctors said would never happen. Would he be into sports or his studies? Would she like pink or black? Would the baby look like me or Ander? So many things are running through my head about this new life.

  Then I feel his hands sneak around and cover mine, his mouth gently kissing my shoulder. “It’s ours.” And, somehow, that answers all the questions in my head.

  “We need to get up and tell Lola the news,” I tell him. He snuggles into my back and holds me closer. I can feel his body shaking and wetness on my shoulders. “Baby, I love you. We will make it through this.”

  “I am not scared, Leire. I am overwhelmed with happiness. A few weeks ago, I had a shop and a bloodsucking ex; twenty-four hours ago, I had a girlfriend I was falling for; now, I have a daughter, a lover, and a baby on the way. My life has changed so much, so fast, but I have never been so satisfied or so happy. Thank you, Leire. Thank you for coming in and changing my life.”

/>   I turn in his arms and hold his face in my hands, his morning stubble rough. “You weren’t missing anything, baby. It was coming for you. We…Lola, this baby, and I…were coming for you and you didn’t even know it. And now we are here and staying…and we need food. So, up. Let’s get this family going.” I wipe my thumbs across his face, wiping off his tears, letting his moment of weakness go, and we roll out of bed, throw on more appropriate clothing, and head down to the kitchen where we find that eighteen-year-olds like to eat and make a mess.

  The kitchen looks like Animal from The Muppets tried to cook breakfast. It is everywhere. And standing in the middle is an even messier Lola. She looks up, tears in her eyes. “I am so sorry, Dad. I just wanted to make you breakfast, but I messed everything up. All we ever had was microwaved food so…” Her shoulders shake as she cries.

  Ander walks over the mess and pulls her into a huge hug. “Lola, make as many messes as you want. Just clean them up. Sound good? Messes happen. It’s how we learn. How about we clean this up together, then make a breakfast for us all. Afterwards, we can discuss what happened yesterday and what is going to be happening from this point forward. But no tears over messes made while trying to do something nice for someone.”

  We clean the kitchen, ceiling and all, and remake our breakfast with what is left. We eat and talk; we laugh and share. We get to know Lola, and her likes and dislikes. We now know she will be adding M. Shadows posters to her walls, and she hates pop music with a passion. She loves drawing, like her father, but hates taking classes. By the looks Ander’s giving me, it is apparent I am going to have to tackle that issue. We have a great morning, just like a family.

  After we clean, Lola finally takes the elephant by the horns and asks what is going to happen with her now. Ander, as gently as he can, tells her that since she is now eighteen, she can choose where she lives. She is a part of our family now and we want her in it. He tells her all that he knows about her mother and how sorry he is that he didn’t know and step in sooner. There are more tears, this time from father and daughter. Who am I kidding? Hormonal me is crying, too.