“Do people really not like my daddy?” Her bottom lip quivers, and it takes all my power not to wrap my arms around her and block her from the hate in the world.
I take a deep breath, wondering how to approach this. “When someone is famous, like your daddy, they put their lives in the media for all to pick apart. The one thing you need to know is that not every person likes everyone. There are millions of people who love your daddy. But with that, there are some people who might not. That doesn’t make him a bad person.”
Her eyebrows bunch together, and I know I need to keep explaining.
“Is there a certain food you don’t like?”
Her nose scrunches. “I hate broccoli.”
I try not to chuckle at her admission. “Well, did you know I love broccoli?”
“How can you love broccoli? It’s disgusting.” She sticks out her tongue.
“Not everyone likes the same thing. But that’s okay. Do you understand now?”
She sighs. “I guess. I’ll never understand how you can like broccoli the same way that I’ll never understand why someone wouldn’t like my daddy.”
Her innocence is so endearing.
“Exactly,” I say, standing and closing the door before heading to my side of the car.
9
Sarah
Church starts at ten, but I asked Linda to bring Cailin around nine, so we can practice and go through how the performance will go. As I sit in the entranceway, talking to my mom, Cailin comes dancing in the door, smiling from ear to ear.
“Good morning, Miss Russo,” she says, swinging around to show me her outfit. “Do you like my new dress?”
I excuse myself from my mom and crouch down to her level. “Look how pretty you are. Did you pick it out yourself?”
She jumps up in excitement. “I did! Linda wanted me to get this boring yellow one, but this one has these ruffles, and when I twirl around, it looks so much better!”
I glance up to Linda, who’s shaking her head and laughing. “She keeps me on my toes; that’s for sure.”
I reach out my hand to shake Linda’s. “I can only imagine. Do you have children of your own?”
She covers my hand with her other one. “Oh, no, dear. The Lord had other plans for me. That’s what led me to Adam, and now, I get to help raise this little angel.” She lets me go as she stares down at Cailin with the love of a grandma even though I know she’s not.
“Ready?” I say, holding my palm out for Cailin to grab.
“I’m so excited,” she says as she skips to me.
I lead her to the open room and down the aisles to the front of the church.
Linda sits three rows back as Cailin sits next to me on the piano bench.
When my fingers press down on the first notes, Cailin doesn’t hold back as she belts out the lyrics. Just like before, her ability to sing in tune blows me away. Each word is sung with the correct inflection, and she pauses at the right points with no direction.
“You’ve been practicing even more, haven’t you?” I place my hands in my lap and turn to her in awe when we’re finished.
She smiles brightly. “My dad worked with me last night on it. We sang it over and over until we thought it was perfect.”
The idea of Adam Jacobson singing “Jesus Loves Me”over the phone with a little girl is something I’d never dream of him doing.
How is the guy I thought was the ultimate bad boy turning out to be anything but?
“That’s very nice of him. Did you have to teach him the words?”
