by K. L. Kreig
“Yep. We got him from the Humane Society in our old home.”
Connelly gives me a look that may border on warm. I try to return it, but feel my bottom lip quiver.
“Do you like sports, Connelly?” Hazel asks, drawing the conversation back to her.
“Sure do.” He smiles, pushing his empty plate away.
“Do you like hockey?”
Uh oh. I know for a fact Connelly is a die-hard Red Wings fan.
“What all-American male wouldn’t like hockey?” he feigns with a wink, which makes her giggle again. She hasn’t stopped grinning since she found out he was coming over.
“Who’s your favorite team?” she asks excitedly.
“The only one worth anything. The Wings, of course.”
“The Wings?” she groans while rolling her eyes. Her disappointment is clear. I have to work to hold in a laugh.
“Oh no. Don’t tell me you’re a Blackhawks fan?” Connelly asks, choking on Blackhawks like it’s a dirty word.
“All the way.”
He laughs, shaking his head. “You do realize that the Wings have won nearly double the cups as the Blackhawks, right?”
His stats are futile. Hazel has a binder full of her own. They start winging fan-filled mud, nicely of course. I have a feeling this back-and-forth bantering could go on for hours, neither of them giving an inch.
I start to clear the table while they each try to convince the other about the error of their ways for their NHL team selections and am surprised when Connelly stands to help. We all move around the kitchen in synch like we’ve done this a hundred times before. I have to tamp down the feeling of rightness. I know it won’t last.
When we’re done, Hazel asks again if she can give Connelly a tour. I want to say yes so we can delay the inevitable.
“Maybe in a few minutes. Connelly and I,” I pause casting him a quick glance, “we, uh, have something we need to discuss with you.”
Her eyes volley between the two of us as if she senses something in our lives is about to significantly change. “Okay.”
Connelly agreed to let me take the lead with this conversation, but if I don’t get some air about now, I may pass out. “How about let’s sit on the patio.” I pick up my liquid courage, walk to the glass sliding doors that lead to the enclosed backyard, and step outside.
Hawk runs right up to me and demands to be petted. I comply. He follows me over to the patio furniture as I sit. He stands protectively in front me, not really growling at Connelly, but not warmly welcoming him either. Hawk relaxes a bit when I start scratching behind his ears but never lets down his guard.
I’ve racked my brain about what I’m going to say to my ten-year-old. I decide the best approach is to be as honest and direct as possible. That’s the way Hazel and I have always been with each other, except for this one thing. And she’s mature enough to handle the truth.
Once we’re settled, Hazel and me on the loveseat, Connelly in a lounger across from us, I focus my attention on my daughter and start.
“Hazel, first I need to apologize because I wasn’t quite truthful the other day when we went to get that test.”
Her brows crease. “But I thought you were always honest with me? ‘Honesty is the best policy’ you always say.”
I choke on my guilt. So much guilt. “I made a mistake, Ladybird. I’m so sorry.”
She grabs on to my hand and tells me it’s okay. So forgiving. I hope she still feels that way in five minutes. It takes a few beats before I can go on. “I love you more than all the stars in the sky. Nothing will ever change that. You know that right?”
She nods.
“Do you remember what I’ve told you about your daddy?”
Her eyes now flick to Connelly and stay there. She knows exactly what I’m about to tell her. I feel like I’m going to barf.
“Hazel,” I gently prompt. When she finally tears her eyes away from her father and back to me, my breath hitches. I don’t see anger or blame or even confusion. I see…hope. And a thousand times more than Connelly’s acceptance, I need Hazel’s. I need to know I’m not going to lose her over this secret I’ve kept.
“Is Connelly my daddy?” her small voice asks.
My eyes fill so fast I can’t see. Now it’s my turn to nod silently and a few of them spill. Her attention lands on her father once again. For the first time since we sat down, I allow myself to look at Connelly. Leaning forward in his seat, elbows on his knees, hands clasped between his legs, he has a gentle smile on his face as he raptly watches our exchange. He’s trying to hide it, but he’s as nervous as I am.
“I know this is kind of coming out of the blue and I know you probably have a lot of questions. I promise we’ll take as much time as you need…”
My words fade into the background, trailing off when Hazel rises and walks over to Connelly. She stands there for eons as they view each other in a new and different light.
Father to daughter.
Child to parent.
Blood to blood.
Relief is palpable, and I know everything will be all right with Hazel and me when she throws her arms around Connelly’s neck in acceptance. It’s a tender moment I will never forget until I close my eyes for the final time. Connelly’s frozen for all of two seconds before he wraps himself around her tiny frame, holding her tight.
His eyes connect with mine. My hand flies to smother my sobs when I see tears glistening in the sunlight. Thank you, he mouths silently. All I can do is nod.
“Wanna tour now? Wanna see my drawings?” she asks, bouncing up and down in front of him. He looks to me for permission. I silently give it.
“Sure. I’d love that, Hazel.”
“Mommy, do you wanna come, too?”
“No,” I choke on a whisper. “Don’t you have any questions you want to ask first?”
Her eyes roll to the sky, but don’t come back to me. They land on her father. “Can I call you Daddy?”
A strangled noise escapes me.
“You can call me whatever you’re comfortable with, Hazel.” When I hear his voice crack it almost ruins me.
“I want to call you Daddy,” she replies enthusiastically.
This is the single best trait about Hazel. She is the most accepting person I have met, whether it be child or adult. She doesn’t question, she doesn’t argue. She has mentioned her father only a handful of times since she was old enough to understand he wasn’t with us. Every time, she just accepted my vague answer that he couldn’t be, but it wasn’t his fault. Now that he is here, she’s not questioning why, she’s just accepting that he is. I love her all the more for that.
Hazel gets halfway inside before she turns around and runs back to me, enveloping me in an enthusiastic hug. “I knew he was the one, Mommy. I just knew it,” she whispers in my ear. I don’t even try to stop the water cascading freely down my face.
Hazel rejoins Connelly and holds out her hand for him to take. They connect for the first time as father and daughter, walking inside with the biggest grins on their faces I could possibly imagine.
My heart has never been so full, yet so profoundly empty at the same time.
Chapter 27
Conn
“Hey, what’s up?”
“Nothing,” I lie. I’ve been sitting at the end of Nora’s street for almost fifteen minutes. I’m supposed to be there in five for my first outing with Hazel. I’m nervous as hell and need some encouragement. With the exception of Nora, I have always been confident, but I find I’m having the same insecurities now about my daughter. What is it about the Cantres women that makes me question myself?
“Isn’t tonight the first night with your daughter?” my twin prods.
“Yes.”
“What do you have planned?”
Because I didn’t want to ask Nora, making it appear as though I didn’t have a fucking clue what I was doing—which I don’t—I talked to Ella instead. Like she has so much more expertise than I do, but she also knows m
y daughter so I thought she’d be a solid second source.
She suggested taking Hazel to Millennium Park, so that’s what I’m going to do. After we walk around, I’ll grab us a bite to eat. Then we can picnic on the grassy lawn. It’s a beautiful fall day and with a sweater, hopefully she’ll be fine. Maybe I should make her bring her winter coat, just in case.
“Millennium Park.”
“That should be fun.”
“Yeah.”
“One-word answers.” Asher pauses. “It’s going to be fine, Conn. You know that, right?”
“Yeah,” I reply softly, hating the fact I’m this unsure about myself. Hazel was a ball of excitement after Nora and I talked to her a few days ago. She spent an hour going through all of her artwork and another hour showing me her photographs. Ella was right. She’s incredibly talented. And grounded. And mature. And funny. She’s incredible, period.
“Do you want Alyse and me to meet you?”
“No. Nora and I agreed that it just be us for a few weeks until Hazel acclimates. She seems to be handling it well, but we just don’t want to push things and overwhelm her.”
“Makes sense.” Another pause. “You know, out of any of us brothers, I always thought you’d make the best father.”
Snorting in disbelief, I ask, “Why?” I’m not sure how he could think that when I didn’t even think I wanted kids until days ago.
“Because you’re the closest in personality to Dad. You inherited his patience and level head. He did his best teaching by being a great role model and that’s you, Conn. You’re going to fuck up, because I’m sure being a parent is hard, but we reaped the benefits of great parents, so some of that had to rub off on you. Hell, I’m hoping it rubbed off on me.”
And this right here is why I called my twin. He always makes me feel better.
“Maybe you’re right.”
“There’s no maybe about it. I’m just thrilled that you’ll be doing all the learning before me. That way you can give me tips and keep me from making the same mistakes.”
I chuckle. “I’m sure I’ll fuck up plenty.”
“I’m sure you will, too. But that doesn’t mean you won’t be a good dad, Conn. It just means your kids will learn how to apologize.”
If there was one thing our father was good at, it was acknowledging when he’d screwed up. Our father was the best role model a kid could ask for. Both my parents were. I want to be that for Hazel. And I can tell how good of a mother Nora is. Even if she has kept my daughter from me all these years, there is no disputing her love for Hazel.
“Thanks, Ash.”
“Anytime. Now, stop dragging your feet and go spend time getting to know your daughter.”
I disconnect the call, start the car, and drive the short distance to Nora’s house feeling much better. The door flies open before I even reach it. Standing there with an ear-to-ear grin on her face is Hazel.
My God in heaven, she is magnificent.
Nora stands just a few feet behind her looking so fucking beautiful it kills me. I acknowledge her with a slight dip of my head, my heart speeding up for all sorts of different reasons. Anger. Lust. Punishment. Love. Her deceit is unimaginable, yet…yet I still need her. I fucking need her with an untamed wildness that seems to quadruple daily.
I’ve purposely stayed away from her for the past couple of weeks, except when we had to talk about business or Hazel. And there are always people around. If I get even a second alone with her, I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep from stripping her raw and raining the worst pain she’s ever felt before lavishing the most intense pleasure she can handle over every square inch of her. I want to spank her ass until she has tears of remorse running down her face before I fuck her until we both pass out. I can’t reconcile the opposing things I want to do to her. I’ve never been so torn.
But I have to push all those emotions to the back of my mind right now and focus only on my daughter. I’m still too raw to deal with anything else.
“Hi, Daddy!” Hazel throws her arms around my waist, hugging me tight.
Suddenly I wonder why I was so nervous.
“You got your camera?” I ask, matching her smile. I’d sent Nora a text, asking her to make sure she brought it.
“Got it.” She holds up a nice, but inexpensive Nikon. I already know for Christmas I’ll be getting her the next step up. One complete with interchangeable lenses for better shooting. Hell, I won’t even wait until Christmas. I have ten Christmases to make up for. Birthday’s, too.
“You need a jacket, though. It could get chilly.”
“I’ll be fine in this.” She pulls at her light, long-sleeve rainbow sweater.
“Zel, take your jacket.” Nora hands her a yellow zip-up hoodie, which Hazel accepts with some reluctance.
“Ready?” I ask, holding out my hand for hers.
“Ready.” She grins, lacing her small fingers with mine.
My gaze sweeps up to Nora who looks as if she may start crying any second. I shove away the guilt that makes me feel. “I’ll have her home by eight-thirty.”
“Sounds good,” she says softly. “Have a good time, Ladybird.”
“I will,” Hazel shouts behind her as we make our way to my car.
“I like that you open my car door,” she announces after I settle in the driver’s seat and pull on my own safety belt.
“Well, any man worth his salt opens a car door for his lady. Remember that,” I wink.
She grins, easily accepting my first bit of fatherly advice. “I will.”
Huh. I take a deep, relaxing breath as we back out of the driveway and head back toward the city. I may end up being okay at this father thing after all.
Chapter 28
Conn
We walk over the lush grass of the pavilion. There are no performances tonight, but it’s a nice night in the city and there are plenty of people milling around. Many have their blankets spread out, having the same idea I did. Everyone knows these nice days will be winding down as fall’s crisp air is sucked down from the north. Pretty soon, the snow will be falling once again.
“This is sooooo cool,” Hazel murmurs.
“It is, isn’t it?” I’ve honestly never stopped to appreciate this area. But Hazel…she is in absolute awe. She’s not taken that camera from her eye since we set foot in Millennium Park. Right now, she has it pointed up and is snapping rapid-fire pictures of the stainless steel ribbons that crisscross over the 7,000-acre lawn and stand over a hundred feet above us. It’s incredible how they look as if they’re suspended.
So far, we’ve walked the gardens, watched the fountains, and strutted around the Bean, an iconic draw for both visitors and locals. The Bean is a Chicago landmark that’s shaped like an oval and made from highly polished steel. The twelve-foot arch on the base of the structure provides a nice area to walk under and its mirrored surface is a dream for photographers to capture great pictures of the reflection of downtown Chicago. Hazel spent fifteen minutes taking snapshots from different angles.
I’ve finally convinced her we need to eat, so we grab a couple of hot dogs and sodas from Park Grill and try to find “the perfect” spot to sit. I keep pointing out to plots of grass beneath us but nothing seems to satisfy her. I think she just wants to case the entire span of this huge lawn until she’s exhausted or her digital card is full. I hope that card fills up soon.
“How’s this spot?”
At last, she takes the plastic away from her face and grins. “You’re hungry, aren’t you?”
I start laughing. “Starved.”
She points to the tiny pile of dirt coating the grass right by my feet. “There’s an ant hill there.”
“Good point. We don’t want to have ants crawling on our food.”
“And we don’t want to kill them either. Did you know ants can lift twenty times their own body weight? If I was as strong as an ant I could pick up a car!”
I am in utter amazement of this girl. My girl. So much like her mother wit
h trivial facts. “Wow. An impressive fact I did not know. Well if they’re that strong, couldn’t they just pick us up and move us if we sat on them?”
“Daaaaddy,” she chastises, hand on hip. Secretly loving my new title, I chuckle and grab her hand, taking a few steps ahead. Searching the grass, I see no sign of ants.
“Here?”
She carefully peruses the ground before deeming it acceptable. We spread the thin blanket I’ve been carrying and sit. I hand her a hot dog, which she quickly unwraps. When she takes a bite, she moans.
“Good?”
“I love hot dogs,” she says around a mouthful of bread and meat. “Do you?”
“Eh. I’m more of a fish guy.” Actually, I can’t stand hot dogs. They’re nothing but processed animal parts.
“I like fish, too.”
“I know.” I bop her on the nose. She giggles.
While we eat, we talk about school and moving. She says she loves it here, but misses her old nanny and friends. I tell her about my brothers and the fact she has two cousins with one on the way. That lights her up. She’s already begging to meet them. I tell her I’ll talk to her mother and work out a time soon. Then I talk about her grandma and tell her stories about her grandpa. She’s sad she won’t get to meet him. So am I. She asks me about my job and squeals when I tell her our company owns a plane. Unlike her mother, she likes to fly. After I tell her that her mom works for me, she just grins mischievously.
It’s light, easy conversation. She doesn’t ask hard questions and for that, I’m grateful because I don’t know how I’d answer them.
When we’re done eating, we lay back on the blanket, staring at the silvery structure above us. She grabs my hand, holds it tight. It reminds me of when I took Nora to the country club my parents belonged to for Memorial Day fireworks. We lay on the bank of Orchard Lake on a blanket similar to this one and held hands as colored lights exploded over our heads. Three days later, Hazel would be conceived.
Fuck.
My heart suddenly feels too heavy for my chest, but Hazel saves me from spiraling into despair without even knowing it.
