by Claire Adams
I grinned. She could be mad at me all she wanted, but I knew the truth. I had felt it in the way she relaxed under my lips. Her hands had squeezed my arms as if she never wanted to let go.
“Bye, Red,” I said to Ainsley, tapping her nose as I did.
She giggled. “Can I call you Dad? Or Daddy?”
“You can call me whatever you want.”
“Bye, Daddy,” she said, her little face all smiles, and those familiar blue eyes gleaming.
I looked back at Liza, who was now glaring at me.
“See you soon,” I whispered and walked out the door.
I couldn’t help but whistle as I strolled down the walkway of her building and into my rental car. My life was definitely on the upswing.
Cruising around, I swung by a mall that was open late. It catered to the night owls that were so prevalent in Miami. I felt like shopping. I couldn’t exactly show up like Santa Clause on Christmas morning, but I could buy my daughter a few things.
The first place I hit was the bookstore.
“Can I help you find anything?” a young woman salesclerk asked.
“I need some books for a four-year-old girl,” I said, really having no idea where to start.
She nodded. “Right over here. Does she have any particular interests?”
Standing there, I felt like an idiot. I didn’t really know. I had spent the evening with her, but it felt like I had barely scratched the surface. I had a lot to learn about my little girl.
“She likes Curious George,” I said, remembering the first book we read.
“Perfect. We have all of the Curious George books right here.”
“Thank you,” I said, looking at all the titles.
I picked out a few and slowly made my way around the children’s area, picking out a few more books I thought she would like. I found a bookbag with a bunch of bright flowers on it and picked it up as well.
Once I finished at the bookstore, I wandered around the mall, picking up a few Hot Wheels cars and a new Barbie doll. I remembered playing with her that first day. I looked at some of the dresses in a boutique store but had no idea what size she wore or what her favorite color was.
The books and toys would have to do for now. I needed to get a house and set up a bedroom for her. I couldn’t wait to outfit it with all the toys she liked and have it done in her favorite color. Feeling good about life in general, I went back to the hotel and managed to fall asleep relatively fast. The only thing haunting me that night was Liza.
She haunted me in the very best way. My imagination conjured up images of the past and brought them into the present for me to drool over. I wanted her in my bed with me pushing into her. I remembered those little moans she made, and the moment when she asked me to fuck her. Those were words I would never forget.
I had been with plenty of women since her, but none of them came close to satisfying me like she did. She had always been in the back of my mind, whispering in my ear that none of the other women were good enough. She had been right. Only she could give me what I needed. What I had been craving for so long.
Coach Summers was going to shit his pants when he found out I hadn’t only gotten his daughter pregnant, but I was going to work very hard to convince her she should date me. I grinned and put a hand to my eye. The next time he called me into his office, I better wear my helmet.
Chapter 21
Liza
“Miss Summers,” an aide from the office said, stepping into my classroom.
“Yes?”
“You have a phone call in the office.”
“I do?” I asked, dumbfounded.
That was odd. I reached into my purse and dug out my cell phone, only to discover it was dead. I’d obviously forgotten to charge it last night. Not fully recovered from the whole Milo kiss, I’d been rattled and running late. I left the aide in charge of my class and walked down the hall, fighting the urge to run. It had to be either be about my dad or Ainsley. No one else would call me at work.
“That one there,” the receptionist pointed to a phone.
I picked it up, “Hello?”
“Hi, Miss Summers, Ainsley is having a rough day. I think she may have caught the stomach bug that’s been going around. She’s vomited twice now.”
“Oh no,” I said, instantly feeling terrible for my daughter.
“We have her in one of the sick rooms lying down at the moment, but I think it best that she goes home for the day. Can you pick her up? We tried calling your father as well, but there was no answer.”
I checked my watch. Dad would be in practice. “Let me call one other person. If she can’t get there, I’ll be right over.”
I hung up the phone, feeling anxious because my baby was sick and I wasn’t there to make it better. I quickly dialed Vanessa’s number. “Hey,” I greeted. “What are you up to today?”
“I’m at the doctor’s office.”
“What? Why? Are you okay?” I asked, suddenly worried about her health.
“I’m getting some bloodwork done. What’s up?”
“Don’t worry about it. Ainsley is sick, but I’m going to go get her. Think good thoughts,” I told her, before hanging up. I prayed my friend wasn’t feeling ill. I knew she would never tell me if she was.
I went to the principal and told him I had a family emergency and needed to go. He wasn’t happy, of course, but I didn’t care. We both knew he couldn’t fire me over it. Very few teachers were willing to teach at this particular school, and the ones that did, well, they weren’t as good as I was.
The drive to Ainsley’s school seemed to take forever, but finally I got her picked her up. She did look pretty rough. This was bound to happen occasionally, especially this first year. I was hoping by the time she started kindergarten, she would have built up some immunity and that this wouldn’t be a regular thing. I had wanted to protect her when she was a toddler and used a nanny, which had been great, but it limited her exposure to other kids and germs.
“Okay, sweetie, you want to get some jammies on?” I asked her.
She nodded before heading to her bedroom. I pulled out clean pajamas for her and left her to it while I prepared for a bout with a tummy bug.
“You lay down, and I’ll get you some water and crackers. Do you want to watch SpongeBob?”
“Yes,” she said in a weak voice.
I grabbed the small garbage can out of the bathroom in case there was an emergency puking situation. Once Ainsley was all settled in, I had her sit up so I could sit on the couch with her head resting on my lap. I grabbed my phone that was now finally charged, and texted Milo.
Ainsley has the flu. She’s fine.
If we were going to do the co-parenting thing, I wanted to do my best to keep the peace. It wasn’t like he could do anything about her stomach bug, but at least now he knew.
“How are you feeling?” I asked Ainsley.
“Better, but my tummy feels icky,” she whined.
“I know, baby. It will get better soon. Why don’t you try and close your eyes? You can sleep away the ickiness,” I told her. That was something my dad used to tell me when I was little.
“But I want to watch SpongeBob,” she protested.
Smiling, I knew it was only a matter of time before she fell asleep, despite her protests or desire to watch SpongeBob.
“Okay, we will. Tell me if you feel like you have to puke. The garbage can is right here, just in case you can’t make it to the bathroom.”
I leaned my head back against the couch and closed my eyes. Milo had to get out of my head. If he didn’t extricate himself from my dreams, I was going to be a zombie. My skin felt tingly all the time. Ever since that kiss, I had been stuck in a proverbial dream, remembering what it had been like when he kissed me back then.
Before I knew it, I had fallen asleep, to be woken up by the doorbell. My head popped forward, and I blinked several times. I checked and saw that Ainsley was still sound asleep in my lap. I managed to slide out from u
nder her and made my way to the door. My eyes were burning from the rude awakening and sheer exhaustion.
When I pulled it open, Milo was standing there.
“What?” I blinked and rubbed my eyes.
I could only imagine what I looked like and was pretty sure I’d been drooling while I slept. I quickly wiped my mouth and focused on him.
“You said Ainsley was sick. I brought over a few things to help,” he said, holding up three large reusable bags that looked like they were absolutely stuffed.
“A few things?” I repeated, still trying to pull myself into the waking world.
He pushed past me and headed for the kitchen. I stared at his back for a few seconds before closing the door. “Sure, come on in,” I mumbled under my breath.
I followed him into the kitchen where he was unpacking the bags onto the counter. “I stopped by the pharmacy,” he said, as he kept pulling items out.
“I can see that. Milo, you didn’t need to buy all this. What is all this?” I asked as he pulled out a box of Pedialyte popsicles.
He shrugged. “I don’t honestly know. I asked the pharmacy tech for help, and she pointed to some of the things she uses for her kids.”
“Milo, this is a lot of stuff. Ginger Ale, Tylenol, and Pedialyte—in every flavor?” I asked, astonished by all that was coming out of the bags.
“I didn’t know what flavor she liked. Look, I don’t know anything about taking care of a sick little girl, but I wanted to do something,” he said, stopping and looking at me. “This is all new to me.”
I nodded, dumbfounded.
“I got liquid Tylenol, just in case she has a fever. Plus, a couple different kinds of cold medicines, just in case,” he explained.
“Milo, it’s just a stomach bug. It’s not a big deal,” I said, watching him pull still more items out of the bags.
I picked up something called Honey Pops and held it up, questioning him with my eyes.
“For her throat. If her throat hurts, this will make it feel better,” he explained, as if I was an idiot.
I nodded slowly. “A little much, isn’t it?”
He shot me a look. “I don’t know, Liza. I just want to take care of my child, okay? I’m sorry I don’t know what she likes and what she doesn’t. Or if it’s a little much. I guess I don’t know any of that, but maybe because I only found out she existed a week ago,” he said, his voice in a low growl now.
I took a deep breath, aware I was being bitchy. He had done something kind and thoughtful, and I was being snarky. Truth be told, it was actually helpful. I hadn’t stopped at the store on my way home out of fear that Ainsley would vomit. The supplies were appreciated.
“This is all very nice, and holy cow I can’t imagine how much it all cost, but Milo, I have most of this stuff already,” I said gently. “I mean, I don’t have orange Pedialyte pops, but we could have gotten by.”
“Now you have more, and you don’t have to just get by. Look, I’m here. I can buy these things. We need to work out some kind of child support arrangement, but we’ll do that later. Right now, our baby girl is sick, and I want to help take care of her,” he said, with a great deal of sincerity.
I smiled, “Thank you. This is really nice.”
He was clearly very upset that she had been plagued with a stomach bug. I could only imagine how he would react to her getting really sick or hurt, like breaking a bone. The poor man would need tranquilizers.
“Thank you. I know it’s a lot, but I kind of panicked when I read your message. The lady at the pharmacy recommended a few things, but I pretty much bought one of everything in the aisle,” he said, with an embarrassed look.
“Don’t feel bad. You did what every new father does. When she was born, I asked my dad to pick up some diapers for me on his way home. I had just assumed he would know what to get. The man bought every brand in two different sizes. He was not happy they made so many different kind of diapers,” I said, remembering the day like it was yesterday.
Milo grinned. I looked at his face and could see how much he cared about this little girl he had just met. His black eye looked better, which reminded me of my dad. I still hadn’t told him the whole story.
“It’s fine,” he said, touching the bruise.
“Has he said anything more about it?”
“No. He told me that day it was all he would say. There were a few threats tossed in, but I expected that,” he said, with that smile that could charm the pants off any girl.
I looked down at my feet. “I still haven’t explained everything to him.”
“I don’t care. Do or don’t. Like I said before, I’m here now. I will prove that I’m a good dad.”
He reached into another bag and pulled out a yellow book.
“What’s that?” I asked.
He turned it around, “Does she have this one?”
I shook my head, “No, she doesn’t.”
I spun around, quickly putting the Pedialyte in the fridge. I didn’t want him to see the tears welling in my eyes. It was such a sweet, thoughtful gesture, one that only a real daddy would have thought of.
“Can I get you something to drink?” I asked.
He didn’t answer, and when I turned back around he was gone. I popped my head around the wall that divided the kitchen and living room and saw him sitting at the end of the couch, gently lifting Ainsley’s legs and placing them across his lap. I could hear him softly whispering to her as he leaned over and brushed the hair from her forehead.
It was a tender moment between father and daughter. One that I knew I would never forget. It was amazing to see the love in his eyes for Ainsley after such a short time. I felt a familiar feeling of regret that had been plaguing me for the past five years. Milo would have been an excellent father. No matter how many women he took to his bed, my little girl would have been the center of his world. I knew that now.
I wiped the tears away and carried in a bottle of water in and handed it to Milo.
“Is she warm?” I whispered.
He looked at me with horror. “I don’t know. How do I tell?”
“Put your hand on her forehead, and then I usually use the backs of my fingers to feel her cheeks,” I instructed.
He did as I said. “How do I know what’s warm?”
“You’ll know. Does she feel like other people you have touched?” I said, with a wink.
He grinned. “Well, usually those people tend to be a little warm already, but for entirely different reasons.”
I laughed. Glad we could joke about his sordid reputation. I reached down and felt her other cheek. “She’s a little warm, but nothing too serious. When they sleep, they tend to be warm anyway. You can also see if they have a fever by looking at their cheeks. If they are flushed, there’s a good chance there’s a fever,” I explained.
He was staring at her sleeping face, nodding his head and soaking in all the information I had spent the past four years learning.
“She’s okay,” I reassured him.
“Good, I’m just going to sit here with her. You can do whatever you need to. I got this,” he said, with supreme authority.
“Great. I’m going to go start a load of laundry. Holler if you need me,” I said, and left the two of them alone.
It was kind of nice to have an extra set of hands around.
Chapter 22
Milo
“I’m fine,” I grumbled again.
“You don’t have to sit with her. She’ll tell you if she needs you,” Liza said, for what had to be the tenth time.
“It’s okay. I have nowhere else I need to be. We’re going to read the new Curious George book, aren’t we, sweetie?” I cooed to Ainsley as she was sitting beside me, sucking on one of the frozen Pedialyte popsicles.
She nodded her head. “Yes, Daddy.”
Liza had been hovering—telling me I’d been hovering—for the past thirty minutes. I wasn’t going to leave the girl. I could tell she felt miserable and I wanted to be there. I
wanted her to know I wasn’t going anywhere. When she had called me Daddy my heart had grown so big I thought it would explode. She knew exactly what to say to wrap me around her little finger, and I didn’t care one bit.
“Fine, I’ll go find some chores to do,” Liza mumbled, turning and leaving us alone in the living room.
Ainsley crawled up in my lap and settled back against my chest. I opened the new book and began to read.
“Daddy,” she groaned, seconds before turning into something I remembered from the exorcist.
I jumped off the couch, holding her body in front of me as she spewed vomit.
“Liza!” I shouted, but she had already appeared and dashed down the hall and back with a towel in the time it took me to get her name out.
I held the girl in front of me and when the volcano of vomit slowed I put her on the ground and rubbed her back while Liza wiped her mouth with the towel.
“You’re okay. It’s alright,” I said, gently rubbing her back. “Do you feel better?”
Liza stood up and looked at the mess spread out over the carpet.
“I hope she does,” she mumbled, shaking her head.
“I’m sorry, it came out of nowhere. One second she was fine and the next,” I shook my head in disbelief, still traumatized. “It was like Mount Vesuvius. I didn’t even have time to go for the trash can.”
Liza giggled. “Don’t worry about it. This isn’t the first time this has happened. It’s actually why I have a carpet shampooer. Unfortunately, I don’t know if the Pedialyte vomit stains, so I need to shampoo this rug now before it has a chance to set in. Are you okay watching her while I take care of this mess?”
I nodded my head, not sure at all.
“Actually, let me go clean her up first. She’s got it all over herself—and maybe a little on your shoes,” she said, pointing down at my feet.
I smiled, “Yep.”
“You’re smiling? About puke on your shoes?”
“Yep. This is another first for me. I can’t wait until she’s older and I can tell her about the time she threw up on my shoes—right in front of her boyfriend.”
