CHAPTER 1
Sayer
Inhaling deeply, I force a grin and a lightness to my voice and try again. “Ayla, please take one more bite for me.”
She meets my gaze, opens her mouth, reaches out with her hand and takes the egg from the fork, pushing the crumbles into her mouth the best she can.
Dad chuckles.
“You aren’t helping.”
“Son, she’s at an age where she wants to try to do for herself.”
I glare across the diner booth at him. “She can’t do for herself. I forgot the damn kid fork again and she’ll poke her eye out with a real fork. She’s not eating enough as it is. The last pediatrician said she’s underweight and looked at me like I was gum on the bottom of her shoe.”
“It’s all going to be okay, son. You’re doing fine.” He takes his coffee cup off the plate, scrapes the scrambled eggs onto it, adds some of his leftover french fries and puts the plate on her highchair tray.
Ayla immediately grabs a fry and chews on it, while stuffing a palm full of egg in her mouth.
Elbows on the table I cradle my head in my palms. “I suck at this.”
“Sayer, look at me.”
Begrudgingly, I do.
“Son, you have only knownabouther for four months. Only met her three months ago. During most of that time you saw her with supervision, twice a week. She’s only been ours for a month. Most fathers have a minimum of nine months to prepare. You’re doing fine. You’ve already got the most important part down.”
“What’s that?”
“You stepped up, and you love her.”
Taking a deep breath, I study my daughter.My daughter.
I never knew that the wild weekend after a particularly brutal deployment had produced such an exquisite reminder of life. Hell, I barely remember the weekend. We’d been deployed for six months, lost a third of our squad and others were seriously injured. Those left standing were drowning our sorrow, when someone brought in some women.
It was a release. An affirmation of life. I’m not proud of it. I vaguely remember the condom breaking. She said we were good, she didn’t need it anyway. Said she’d take care of it.
I remember stumbling outside, getting sick, and falling asleep in the yard. Two years, two months later I get approached for a DNA test. Ayla’s mom thought the guy she’d been living with was the father. Turns out he wasn’t. She was going down a list of the guys she’d been with around the time she got pregnant. She remembered me because she liked my name, and I was polite. Not like most of her johns. What started out as a shake down, ended up with her overdosing and a battle with the courts to gain custody of the little girl who is my biological child.
Ayla’s mom was not abusive in the true sense of the word, but neglectful. Dad and I talked. Thankfully, I was able to get custody of Ayla and she’s mine now.
I didn’t see it coming. Never thought about kids. I was married to my career. But I love her. It only took one glance from her innocent brown eyes, one smile from bowed lips, and the first time she grabbed my finger and tried to stick it in her mouth.
I love her with my whole heart. I can’t imagine life without her. It was a fight, but she’s mine now.
In the middle of that, Dad had what they called a mini heart attack. A heart attack is a heart attack in my book. And they’re all serious. After losing Mom when I was sixteen to a brain aneurysm, I can’t lose Dad too.
He’s been good, taking care of himself, doing what the doctors say, but was warned that keeping the business by himself was not in his best interest unless he could be owner in name only.
I’d planned on a career in the Army. Instead, after ten years in, I got a separation, a commitment to the reserves and a construction company that needs some serious updating, even if we are in a small town.
Ayla reaches out her hand to Dad. “More.”
French fries and chicken tenders, I swear that’s the only food she knows. With enough cheese dip sometimes a few green beans and broccoli flowerets.
I push a large curd of egg toward her. “Ayla, eat that bite of egg and you can have another French fry.”
“No.”
