“What?”
“That’s really sweet.” She wrinkled her nose, clearly trying not to cry.
He held out his arms, and she scooted sideways. As she leaned on him, she took the plastic CD case and turned it over in her hands. “You know, it’s kind of like an archeological dig for your emo journey.”
“Whoa, let’s not go too far.” He laughed, but she wasn’t wrong.
They went through the rest of the CDs together, playing some of the songs as they went, tracing his emo journey, as she put it.
But he wasn’t prepared for the last jewel case Becca picked up. It wasn’t metal, and it wasn’t country, the two types of music he usually listened to.
“What’s this one?”
Owen took the Dire Straits album, his throat closing up with emotion. The answer came out strained to his own ear. “That was your grandpa’s.”
“Can we listen to it?”
“Yeah, of course.” He blinked, his eyes suddenly hot and scratchy. He had to disentangle himself from his daughter, which was for the best. He didn’t want her to see his eyes get wet, or the way it took him a second to pull himself together before he could put the CD in the computer.
His dad had probably been Owen’s age now when he bought it. He hoped like hell that Becca would never be having the same conversation one day with her kid about the Lonestar CD. He wanted to be around to share the music himself.
“What are you thinking about?”
He glanced back at his daughter as the music started. “Lots of things. Probably the last time I heard this CD was when you were a baby.”
“And now I’m having a baby.”
Zing. Sometimes his daughter was too smart for her own good. He nodded reluctantly. “Yeah. There’s some circle of life stuff going on in my head.”
“Iknewit was an emo journey!” And sometimes she was a teenager, through and through.
He chuckled, grateful for the laugh. “Yeah. Listen, Bec…”
“Mmm?”
“I know I’ve had quite the period of adjustment to the pregnancy. But I see how happy you are, and I just want you to know that I’m not angry.”
“I know you’re not.” She tried to hold his gaze, but blinked and looked down after a second.
“Becca.”
She rolled her head. “I know, Dad! I know you’re not mad! But you’re disappointed that I’m repeating the whole…” She waved her hand. “You know.”
“It’s more complicated than that. It’s not disappointment, honey. It’s fear. When you were a baby—the most perfect baby I had ever seen in my entire life—you were the only thing that felt right. I don’t want you andyourbaby to be lost in a storm like that.”
She slowed her movements and looked at him. “Oh.”
“Your mom and I love you so much. With all of our hearts. But things were rough for us.”
“This is about Hayden.”
He took a deep breath. “Yeah.”
“Dad.”
“What? You don’t talk about him at all.”
“Because you don’t like him.”
