Serena’s eyes were bloodshot, a sure sign she’d slept as well as him last night. “Ready?”
“Yes, no.” He laughed nervously. “I’ve never done this before.”
She cast a wry smile. “That’s a relief. I’d be a little worried if you had multiple children scattered about that you didn’t know of.”
“Funny.” However, her lame joke provided a small measure of relief, if for no other reason than they’d communicated without arguing. That, in and of itself, was a miracle.
“Come on in.” She moved aside and gestured for him to enter. “She’s waiting in the kitchen.”
This moment was thirteen years in the making. Yet as much as he wanted it, his feet became lead that refused to carry him. “I’m scared.”
“Me too.” She touched his arm softly. “We’ll be scared together.”
He wasn’t sure when he’d let go of his anger toward her. All he knew is that some way, somehow, in the last twenty-four hours, they’d formed a tentative truce of friendship for the sake of their daughter. Knowing they were in this together gave him strength to move forward, and he followed Serena into the kitchen.
The girl he’d seen yesterday sat at the table. Up close, she looked even more like him and his family than the picture from several years ago. She jerked her head up when they entered the room, then she stood up. She was tall for her age, a trait that came from his Dad’s side of the family, or maybe Serena’s mom’s side as Cecil was a taller gentleman.
Serena took one of his hands and one of Cecily’s. “Lucas, I’d like you to meet your daughter. Cecily, this is your father, Lucas Fontenot.”
Time stood still. Unconsciously, he placed the drink carrier on the table. He opened his arms and Cecily gravitated into them. His arms folded around her, and he held her tight. He memorized the smell of her hair and the beat of her heart. He was hugging his daughter. The child he’d believed had never been born.
He blinked away the burning moisture in his eyes. This encounter would be forever stamped on his memory. All the heartache, all the running, all the bitterness—it didn’t matter anymore. Only Cecily mattered.
He had no idea how much time passed before they pulled apart.
Cecily left a wet spot on his shirt and pointed to it. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not.” He swallowed the well of emotions in his throat. “It’s good to meet you.”
“You, too.” She smiled shyly, as though she didn’t know what next.
None of them knew. They were all playing by ear. He grabbed the drink carrier. “I brought drinks. I wasn’t sure what you like, so I got a cappuccino, drip coffee, and a latte. All hazelnut.”
“My favorite flavor.” Cecily reached for the latte.
“Your mom’s too.” He caught himself. “At least, it used to be.”
“Still is.” Serena grabbed the regular coffee. “Thank you.”
“Yes, thank you.” Cecily lifted the foam cup to her nose and breathed in deeply.
The gesture was so much like Serena that it caught him off guard. “You’re welcome.”
They each sat in a chair around the table, all on different sides. Silence permeated the room until Cecily spoke. “Mom said you’re in the army.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Have you been deployed?” Cecily’s shyness began to wear off.
“Several times.” He’d rather not think about deployments during this happy time, but he vowed to answer any question Cecily had.
“Last year, my teacher had us write letters to deployed soldiers. I always felt extra sad for them, and now I know why.”
“Whenever we got letters overseas, we’d read them over and over. It didn’t matter if it was from family or a stranger.”
Cecily frowned out of nowhere. “Will you have to go back?”
He rolled his lips inward, delaying a response. His enlistment was up in three months, and he’d had every plan to re-up. That was before he’d found out he had a living daughter. “It’s a part of army life.”
