Sanchez lifts his chin but won’t say anything.
“This means something to Luisa. I know it would mean the world to her if you came to the ceremony. She doesn’t know I’m here. And she’s too proud to ask for you to be there.” I study the man. “Can’t imagine where she gets that trait.”
When he stays silent, I shift my feet and shake my head.
“You need to be there. Get your head out of your ass. She’s happy, but I know she misses her family. You only have so many years on this earth. Is this how you want things to be between you? Well, all I can say is that I love her, and I’m going to make her happy. And I’m going to love our child.”
“Child? What child? There’s a child?” her mother stands.
Oops. Guess I spilled the beans. Did I do it on purpose? Maybe. “Yeah. She’s almost four months along.” My gaze shifts to her father. “You gonna disown your grandchild, too?”
His jaw works, and his eyes glaze a bit, but he stays stubbornly mute.
His wife breaks into tears. “A baby?”
“Yeah. Luisa’s happy, and I won’t have either of you ruining it for her. So, Sanchez, if you can’t swallow your pride and be a damn father, then you’re a bigger idiot than I thought, and maybe I’m wasting my time.”
His wife nudges him. “Don’t be petty. We will lose her forever.”
“You’ve said what you came to say. Now go,” Sanchez orders.
“Got any messages for your daughter?” I ask, but he stubbornly shakes his head.
“You’re a fucking fool. I’ve met a lot of them in my day, but you take the cake, old man. You have a fantastic, smart, beautiful, sweet daughter, and all you can think of is how she’s disappointed you. Well, you can go to hell.”
With that, I turn and stomp back to my truck, flinging the door open and throwing gravel as I tear out of there.
Perhaps it was a wasted trip to come here, but I’m glad I at least gave it a shot. I’d do anything to make my baby happy. Even coming here and begging a fool to love his own damn daughter.
I turn the truck toward our little house. But it’s more than a house; Luisa has made it a home.
I stop off and grab us Chinese food from her favorite place, and when I walk in the door, she’s standing at the sink, pouring a glass of lemonade.
“Hungry, my beautiful wife?”
“Is that Jimmy Wong’s I smell? Oh, yes.”
Laughter vibrates in my chest. My girl loves her Mandarin beef and her Kung Pao chicken.
I set the paper bags on the counter, and she digs in, taking out the little white cartons and opening them.
“Did you get egg rolls?”
“Of course.”
“Fried rice?”
“Yep.”
“Spring Rolls? Wontons?”
“Yes, and yes. And before you ask, I made sure we got extra fortune cookies. There’s enough food there for a family of four.”
“I love you.” She digs out a shrimp wonton and carries it to my mouth.
“Mmm. Good,” I say around the mouthful.
She presses against me and kisses me.
