“Oh! Is that the baby?” Imogene’s voice is soft and awed. Reverent. “She sounds so sweet.”
So do you, I want to say, but that could be taken all kinds of wrong. I have to try to walk a line between professional and friendly. And do I need to act affectionate to her in public? I don’t know if there’s some sort of legal trouble I could get into if people think it’s not a real marriage. Would they investigate me?
What happens if they find out I just found Laurel and didn’t legally adopt her or father her?
“Eee!” Laurel squees, and the worried thoughts vanish for a minute.
“She’s really excited to meet you. She needs someone to play with her while I’m trying to keep this little family going.”
“I know how that is,” Imogene says softly. “I’m excited to play with her and give her all the love she needs while her daddy is working to take care of her.”
“Thank you. Thank you so much for giving this a chance, for being willing to understand. You’ll see that I was telling the truth, and you’ll understand why I... Well, why I have to protect her.”
“I wish more dad were like you, willing to protect their daughters.”
Oooh, there’s a sad story somewhere there, and I want to ask all about it—but probably not now. Not yet. And if I ask, I’ll have to tell my story, and I don’t want to do that with pretty much anyone. “Do you think you’ll be here by tomorrow?” I ask.
“If I get a flight, I could be there by today,” she says in a hesitant voice. “We’re three hours ahead. It’s only ten in the morning here.”
“That would be amazing. Again, keep me posted. Did you get the money?”
“I think so.”
“Well, call me back if not,” I say, and we exchange goodbyes.
Laurel fusses when the call ends. “That’s... That might be your mama,” I whisper, and I hold her tight.
Can I really give Laurel a mother for two or three years, then take that away? Even if they stay close, but Imogene leaves, gets a new job, a “real” job with money and no quirky-probably-scummy living arrangements, it’ll tear Laurel up.
But if Laurel gets taken from me because I lose my job, some sicko at a lab or some bully in the foster care system could actually tear her up. Physically.
I feel sick. I have to stand and pace. “Wanna take a break?” I ask Laurel as we walk and bounce. “Let’s see what the internet recommends for infant Halloween costumes made by clueless dads with no money.”
Chapter Eight: October Thirtieth
October 30th, 2025
Wilkes-Barre-Scranton International Airport, Avoca, Pennsylvania
I pace, feeling out of place in the large, drafty lobby. Ed, the pilot from Idaho, brought me in a small cargo plane to Pennsylvania. It was a six-hour flight that landed in the dark. The regional airport is nothing like the deserted airfields, and I immediately feared that people would stare at me, that they’d somehow catch a glimpse of my skin and start whispering.
Instead, Ed waved goodbye and pointed me inside, saying I’d have to wait in the lounge that’s not officially inside the airport but rather where people wait to get picked up.
So that’s what I’m doing. I used Ed’s phone before we parted and called Mr. Taylor. I told him I could take a cab, but he said it wasn’t too far of a drive.
That was three hours ago.
My mind paces in time with my feet.He has to get the baby ready. He has to drive here. Maybe his car broke down. Maybe he changed his mind.
The giant clock says it’s 12:15. I’m alone in some mostly deserted airport in a strange city, in a strange state, with five hundred and thirty-three dollars and eighty cents. Ed wouldn’t take any money. I’ve been eating my beef jerky and drinking from a water bottle.
I could survive if I had to, I tell myself, but I almost weep with relief when I see a little gray car with dents and duct tape pull up.
Mr. Taylor. Laurel.
My family. At least for the sake of this job.
My breathing is racing my heartbeat as I watch from the window.
