“I understand.” There are so many questions I want to ask her about Mark and about our own marriage. But I’ve picked up on enough to know that her story with Mark isn’t a happy one. Scott filled me in on some details of what Mark did—to me and to others. What kind of mess had I gotten my family into? When I think of what she must have been through living with a man like Mark…
“She knows now,” she continues. “I told her Mark was her pretend daddy and that her real daddy is you. When I told her, she decided she was going to build a time machine one day so she could go back and find you.” She lets out a small laugh with a breath. Frowning, she looks at the floor. “Mark was a distant father…” She swallows, her voice hoarse. “…but he never…hurther.”
Her words make my stomach twist. If there is one thing I could have right now, it would be Mark standing in front of me. I’d kill him.
“Whew… maybe we can talk about all the heavy stuff a bit later.” She smiles weakly and asks me to let Natalie give me a tour of the beach while she finishes dinner.
“Come on, Daddy, let’s go.” Natalie takes my hand. Unlike the rest of us adults, she needs no warm-up, no getting to know you period. She’s already accepted me and is eager to share her world with me.
“Your momma told me you’re going to build a time machine one day?”
“Yes, Mr. Finn will help me do it when I get older. He’s almost as smart as Mr. Hawking.”
“That’s super cool. Tell me more about it?”
“Mr. H.G. Wells wrote the book. A time machine can take you where you want to go in the past or future. Going to the future is no good. But if you go in the past, you can fix things.”
“Why is the future no good?”
“It spoils the surprises.”
“Can’t argue with that logic.” Giving her head a ruffle, I laugh when curls land in every direction.
“Daddy, you’re messing up my hair. Here.” She hands me a piece of paper. “I wrote this for you.” The handwriting isn’t bad for a six-year-old. There are doodles of turtles, dolphins, and fish in the margins.
I luv the ocean and my momma and daddy.
My daddy is a sayler and he is brave.
He swims in the ocean.
and saw a hole at the bottom.
I think about him a lot.
I wanna find him one day.
“Daddy, don’t cry.” She raises her little hand to my cheek and brushes it with her fingers.
I concentrate on her touch. This is unconditional love, and I feel it. Some may say you can’t without your memories. But that’s not true. Because I do.
“Something happened to my brain, and I can’t remember anything. There’s so much I want to share with you, I just can’t remember.”
“It’s okay, Daddy. We can learn everything together.”
How did I make a kid so wise at her age? She must get it from her mother.
“I’d like that.”
Holding hands, we walk back inside.
“Ya’ll are just in time. Dinner’s ready.” Crystal has the table set with enormous bowls of pasta, sauce, bread, and salad.
“My favorite! Sketti.”
“It’s Daddy’s favorite too,” Crystal says and smiles playfully.
It is my favorite.
