by Leddy Harper
Luckily, Bree saved me as she humorously answered, “When he woke me up, the fairy godmother waved her magic wand and gave you to me. And I’ve been waiting all this time for your daddy to ride back in on his horse”—she cut her eyes to me—“and all of his shiny armor”—with a grin, she turned back to Ayla—“and sweep us off our feet.”
“I like that story, Mommy,” she said with a giggle. “So what do I call you now? All of my friends call their daddies ‘Daddy,’ but I can’t call my teacher that.” Her hands began to fidget in her lap. She glanced down and studied them with a wrinkled forehead, deep in thought.
“You can call me whatever you want. But in school, you can keep calling me Mr. Taylor like the other kids.”
She perked up and her pretty little face relaxed. “So I can call you Daddy and Mr. Taylor? You have two names?”
“Yes, Ayla. If that’s what you want to call me. But since we’re talking about names…right now your last name is Bailey. Mine is Taylor. It’s up to you which name you want.”
Bree nudged my shoulder. “What he’s trying to say, sweetheart, is you get to choose your last name. How cool is that? You don’t have to change it if you don’t want to. Mommy picked your last name especially for you.”
“I can be McKayla Taylor?” she asked, and we both nodded. “So if I get in trouble…and you use my whole name…”
“I will say whatever name you choose, Ayla,” Bree answered with a laugh.
“Can I think about it?”
“Take all the time you need,” we both said in unison.
Ayla smiled but grew quiet.
“What’s wrong, honey?” Bree asked, worry setting in her tone.
Ayla stood and whispered in Bree’s ear, though it was something I couldn’t hear. But then Bree smirked and nodded, flicking her head in my direction. With bright eyes, the color directly between mine and Bree’s, Ayla moved to me and wrapped her tiny arms around my neck.
“I knew you’d find me,” she said softly in my ear.
And for the second time in my adult life, tears flooded my eyes, blurring my vision. But I didn’t stop them. I let them flow, feeling everything in that moment. The love, the loss, the missed time, but more importantly, the bright future that lay ahead for all of us.
Right up until bedtime, Ayla asked more questions about me, which we answered as best as we could, considering her age. Bree tucked her in while I waited on the couch. I wanted to go back there with her, kiss her forehead, and tell her goodnight, but I knew she was probably overwhelmed as it was. There was time to work that in later. I had all the time in the world.
When Bree came back, her shoulders fell as she made her way to the couch next to me. Her body slumped into the cushion and her head fell to my shoulder. My hand immediately reached for hers.
“I want to know everything. Start with the first time you heard her heartbeat, and end with this morning,” I said into her hair as I pressed my lips to her head.
She sighed, wrapping her arms around my torso and settling into me deeper as she told me everything I’d missed. Aside from horrible morning sickness, she had an easy pregnancy. After moving in with her dad, she attended a school for teen mothers, which allowed her to take Ayla with her once she was born. She went into labor two weeks early, and it scared her that something was wrong, but Ayla came out perfect, and was the happiest, easiest baby. Apparently, everyone thought so. She became the light in everyone’s eyes—that didn’t come as a surprise to me at all. Bree ended up graduating on time, despite taking time off after the delivery. She only missed six days of school. Her dad and stepmom—which Bree called “Mom” most of the time—didn’t want her to move out, but she was determined to do it on her own. Once she graduated high school, Bree and Sarah found an apartment close to their parents and moved out together. Bree admitted that it was hard, but the struggles were worth it in the end.
“How did you come up with her name?” I asked, interrupting her story for a minute with my own questions.
“I loved the name Ayla…kind of reminded me of Taylor. And I had a friend in school named Kayla. So I added mick to the beginning of it.”
“What’s her middle name?”
Bree stilled for a moment, taking in a deep breath before answering. “Rose.”
“No you didn’t. Really? What…is she eighty?”
We both laughed, but once we settled, she said, “I couldn’t give her your last name, or list you as the father, so that was my way of tying her to you. And I did some research about Guns N’ Roses, wanting her to have that connection, as well. Axl Rose was raised my his stepdad, William Bruce Bailey. But I didn’t want to be too brazen about it…otherwise, I would’ve named her Alexis, or Lexa. Believe me, those names came to mind. But I figured since my dad already knew your name, that wouldn’t be the best idea.”
“Yeah…I’m sure it wouldn’t have taken me that long to figure it out, either, had you done that.” I shifted my position, making her look at me. “Have you told your dad yet?”
“No. I’m too scared. He’s getting better, stronger, but I’m worried it’ll give him a heart attack or something. He’s never liked you much. I’ve told him pretty much everything about you. I mean, he said he appreciated all that you did for me, but believes you crossed a line you shouldn’t have. But honestly, I think a lot of that came from his own guilt over leaving me behind. Especially after he found out what my mom had done to me—my back and whatnot—he hated himself. He said he hadn’t protected me enough like he should’ve, and I think he thought I needed protection from you, as well. I don’t really know what his true feelings about you were, since it all seemed to be so muddled with his own. But I do know that he absolutely hates the boy that took my virginity, knocked me up, and then vanished, leaving me with a kid to raise all on my own. So…I guess he’s really gonna hate you now.”
“Are you having any regrets about this? Are you doubting us?”
Her actions said no, but her eyes said something else. “I’m scared. I don’t want you to get in trouble with the school or lose your job. I don’t want my dad to disown me. I worry about how all of this will get sorted out. But if I’m being honest, being with you doesn’t scare me. It’s all I’ve ever wanted. You’re the only person I’ve ever loved like this. The only one I ever wanted to be with. And without you, I was merely content with being alone. I guess it’s just an adjustment. I have to stop thinking it’s me against the world now.”
I held her face between my hands and pulled her lips to mine, pressing the most tender kiss against them. “Fuck the world. We have the universe on our side. And I’ve got to say, that’s far greater than anything that could possible be against us. We have fate. We have destiny. We have each other.”
Bree climbed into my lap, straddling my legs and wrapping her arms around my neck. Her soft kisses grew harsher, hotter, and more impatient. Her breaths grew shallower, uneven, and frenzied. Her hips began to grind into mine, rubbing her core against my erection as I held on to her waist.
“This seems oddly familiar,” I groaned, panting between kisses.
She pulled her face back and slowed her hips to an erotic roll. “Except last time, you had hair for me to pull on. And I was in a lot of pain.”
“Do you think maybe we should slow it down?”
“Why are you always trying to stop this?”
With my hands on her hips, I pulled her pelvic bone flush against my body. “I’ll always try to do right by you, Bree. Always. And tonight has been really intense. A lot has happened, and I don’t want to rush things. You’re the one that said we needed to take our time and figure this all out.”
“Well, the last time we were in this position, the consequences saved my life. So you won’t get any objections from me.”
“The last time we were in this position, Bree, you got pregnant. And that’s not going to happen again until you’re wearing my ring and signing my last name.”
“I’m on the pill.”
“And I wore a condom,” I argued, raising my eyebrow at her in a dare to contend with me.
“I’m horny, and I can tell you are, too.”
She wrapped her legs around my waist as I stood up and carried her to her room, tossing her on the bed. A squeal left her lips as she bounced on the mattress before I closed the door and locked it.
“Then by all means, Aubrey, let me take care of you.”
Her cheeks flamed red as I crawled between her legs, prepared to make her ache burn hotter before letting her fall to pieces on my tongue.
We both agreed that it wouldn’t be a smart idea if I stayed the night. We didn’t want to push things too hard, nor did we want to make Ayla feel uncomfortable. Regardless of how we felt about things, how much we needed to work through everything, we needed to put Ayla and her feelings first. We had to consider her with every decision we made.
Even though I didn’t spend the night, I made sure to be there for them the following day. I headed over to Bree’s house as soon as I woke up, and spent the entire day with them. Ayla acted shy around me for some reason, yet she didn’t want me to leave after dinner. I knew it was a school night and she needed to get ready for bed, so I had to leave. But I promised her that we’d spend a lot more time together.
The following morning rolled around and I went to school fully prepared to discuss my situation with the administrators. They asked me to meet them after school, sounding very nonchalant about the whole thing. But I’d been burned once before in that situation, so I didn’t let my guard down at all.
I told them how I had no knowledge of Ayla or my relation to her. And then I summarized the events from Saturday night, telling them of how Ayla knew who I was and how Bree and I had decided to be together. To my surprise, they were very sympathetic toward me. They understood that I hadn’t deceived them, and had come forward the moment things were out in the open. Then they surprised me even more by explaining that I was still only a substitute teacher, and there was nothing in the rulebooks against a parent subbing for their child’s class. They did see the potential for a problem, but said they would assess it, talk to the board about it, and make a decision about moving forward. However, if it were up to them, they said they wouldn’t step in as long as I kept things professional in my class.
I could finally breathe easier, finally feel the weight lifting off my chest.
Later that day, Bree informed me that Ayla had decided she wanted my last name. Nothing could’ve made me happier than that news. After it had taken her a while, without a single word from her about it, I began to worry she’d decided to keep her last name as Bailey. But apparently, Ayla was too shy to say it in front of me, and wanted to talk to her mom about it first. I’d been with them all day on Sunday, which prevented her from talking about it. Whatever her reason for waiting, it didn’t matter anymore, because my daughter would be a Taylor.
I had a daughter.
Bree tried to find a job, but I secretly hoped she wouldn’t be able to, hoping she’d give in and let me help. I had always been good about saving money, starting at my very first job. I’d also always lived below my means, which helped me financially when I’d found myself between jobs. I had a nice savings account, but Bree refused to let me use any of it to help her. So I’d called my dad and asked if he knew anyone in the area in lawn care who wouldn’t mind some extra hands, and he connected me with a landscape architect. I would work for him part time until the school made a decision about the permanent position. Either way, I’d be able to have extra money for Ayla and Bree. And hopefully, it would allow Bree to start her furniture stall at the flea market. She managed to turn the table I’d broken in her front lawn in to an amazing piece. She ripped off the legs, attached it to an old birdbath, and painted the entire thing like a mosaic piece of art. Once she finished with the glaze, I knew she would be able to sell it quickly. I had so much faith in her, and the extra hours of work would pay off in the end.
By the end of the week, we’d made an appointment with a lawyer to set paternity rights. He said it wouldn’t be difficult since we both wanted it. We wouldn’t need a court order, only a DNA test. Once the results came back, he’d file it with the office of vital statistics and we could change her name. We were given an estimate of one to two months before that would be done. I didn’t want to wait that long, but I understood there were steps to take.
Ayla already called herself McKayla Taylor.
I loved it.
But she yelled at me every time I’d say it, telling me she wasn’t in trouble so I couldn’t use her full name. I tried telling her that it was a beautiful name and she should use it all the time, only calling her McKayla when she’s in trouble. She didn’t agree with me. I didn’t care.
Bree finally told her parents about me. She was in tears by the time she left their house, calling me as soon as she got in the car. I wanted to drive over there and give her father a piece of my mind, but she told me not to. She said he needed time to calm down and wrap his mind around it. But from what I gathered, he was more upset with Bree for lying about the extent of her relationship with me. I had to trust that she knew him better and he’d eventually calm down.
The following week, Bree had invited me over to her house, and I got to meet her other sister, Clarissa, and her husband. Both sisters were really nice, and invited me in with open arms. Bree probably had to threaten them beforehand, but whatever the reason for their kindness, I believed it to be genuine.
Our whole relationship before had been spent in hiding. There were no “meet the family” moments, or sharing the holidays with our loved ones. It was full of sneaking around, hidden meetings in the trees, stolen glances in class, and little love notes hidden beneath papers on my desk. Our words had to be carefully plotted when texting, and our phone calls had to wait until the sun went down. So to have these moments where we were all together, out in the open, was amazing and scary all at the same time. And I knew that if it scared me even the slightest bit, Bree must’ve felt it worse. I promised to take my time with her, letting us ease into the comfort of being together, but I made it known that I would never again hide our love from the world.
Things became easier with each passing day, but Aubrey still seemed to harbor some apprehension about us. She’d made several comments about how she worried we were rushing into things, or that we were together for the wrong reasons. She told me she loved me every day, and we spent a lot of time together, occupying most nights in the same bed, so I wasn’t too worried about her hesitation. I knew she loved me and that her uneasiness about us would alleviate with time.
Bree still hadn’t found a job, and I could tell it only added to her anxiety. She refused to let me help out financially, but there were other things I helped her with on the sly. One of those things was her furniture business that she longed to start. I’d picked up so many odd pieces for her over the last few weeks that it kept her busy and, hopefully, kept her mind off the hard times. It didn’t take me long to realize that Bree was happiest when she was doing what she loved. She worked tirelessly to transform her newest acquisitions and already had four pieces of furniture built and ready for painting.
“What are you looking at?” I asked, finding her in the back of the thrift shop.
She quickly backed away from the old dollhouse and shook her head.
“You want this?” I asked, looking at it, wondering what she saw. It was made of wood, yet it seemed as though it hadn’t been taken care of in quite some time. The front was open and missing a door, the paint was peeling, and I couldn’t help but wonder why someone thought they’d even be able to sell it. It looked like it should’ve been thrown straight into the dumpster.
“I was only looking at it. Come on, let’s go.”
“No. Wait a minute, Bree. You were looking at this, studying it the way you do when you get a creative idea. Talk to me. I want to know what you see when you look at this thing.” I didn’t move from my spot in front of the worn-down house
, refusing to let her walk away.
She spun around, appearing tired. Her shoulders lifted to her chin as she said, “It’s nothing, Axel. Forget it.”
“No,” I said, holding onto her arms and forcing her to look at me. “I’m not going to forget it. I want to know what you were thinking.”
“It’s pointless what I thought or what I want to do with it. I can’t get it right now, and by the time I can, it won’t be here. So there’s no use wasting the time telling you what I think of it.”
“Why can’t you get it? It’s only fifteen dollars.”
She released a long sigh and dropped her head between us. “I still have projects at home to finish, and I still need to buy paint in order to finish what I have. I can’t afford to start more projects. I have to finish what I can, sell them to buy more paint, and then finish the rest. I can’t afford to pull any money out of my savings, because I have bills to pay. I can’t just go out and buy everything at once, the furniture I have has to pay for the other projects. It’s a process and kind of pointless to keep adding more when I can’t even finish what I have.”
I’d learned that Bree was a lot of things, a prideful person being near the top of that list. Arguing with her over money and what she could or couldn’t afford was useless. I would never win that argument. So, I relented and we left the store.
Later that afternoon, I gave Bree the excuse that I had to go home. What I didn’t tell her was that I also had to make a few stops along the way. One thing I couldn’t stand was for Bree to have to deal with disappointment. She’d dealt with that enough in her life, and I knew she’d face more along the way. But I could fix what was fixable. Bearing witness to her not spending fifteen dollars because she needed paint nearly broke my heart.
I went back to the thrift store and purchased the rickety old dollhouse, not having a clue as to what she’d turn it into—but that was part of the excitement. She had so much talent it amazed me. I’d look at a ladder and see exactly what it was, something to use to reach high places. But Bree could look at it and see something to display knickknacks. The simple wonder of what she’d do to this broken house was enough to make me go back for it. The other stop I had to make was to pick up paint. I’d gone to the enclosed backroom of her house where she worked on her projects, and taken pictures of the supplies she had left, and then used that to fill my cart full of all the same brands of paints and brushes she’d need. It was apparent that one brush was her favorite, due to the dozen paint colors that riddled the handle. I showed the picture to the store clerk and he showed me what type of brush it was. She wasn’t kidding, paint wasn’t cheap and the brush that was her favorite was ridiculously expensive. But that didn’t stop me. It didn’t make me cringe when I slid my credit card across the counter or looked at the receipt. Instead, it filled me with excitement, eager to give it to her. I felt like a kid on Christmas morning.
