“We’ll figure out what works for her in terms of getting to know me. I’ll let you set the pace, but I want her to know I’m her dad. Soon, Alie.”
She nods and swallows. “Okay, I agree. She needs to know you’re her dad.”
“And I want to see her as much as I can.”
“I understand. I will need to tell my parents, too, so we’ll need to decide how to handle that.”
“Do you want me to do it with you? I would like to be there. I don’t want them to think I abandoned her.”
“Let me think about it. It might be best for me to handle that alone first.”
“Alie,” I start to argue.
“Let’s enjoy our day, and I’ll come up with a plan and let you know.”
I look at her for a minute, assessing. “Okay, but that’s a conversation that needs to happen immediately.”
“You’re right, and I will.”
“Mommy,” Sera calls from the other room. “Lunchtime?”
“I’m working on it now,” Alie answers.
“I want nugs.”
“Dinosaur nuggets?” I ask Alie.
“Yep. We’ll eat something else; don’t worry. I had some sandwiches delivered before you came.”
“Thanks.” I turn, looking at my daughter.
She takes a drink from her sippy cup, then looks over her shoulder and sees me. Her little hand lifts, and she waves with a toothy smile.
And when our eyes lock, I feel like time stops. She has my eyes. They’re brown, and her lashes are long. Same sharp assessment in the way she looks at people, like she’s trying to figure out who they are.
I feel like I’m looking in a mirror.
“Time for lunch,” Alie calls from behind me.
Sera hops up and rushes over to us. Alie lifts her and puts her into a booster chair at the table, and I see her kicking her little feet back and forth, like she’s got nowhere else she’d rather be.
I take a seat across from her, and I’m captivated by this little ball of energy.
She talks in determined toddler half words as she picks up a nugget, dipping it in some kind of yellow sauce.
When she finishes eating one whole nugget, she lifts up her little arms above her head and claps.
“Bite one down. See?”
“I see,” I say, leaning forward in my seat like this is the most important play of my career.
She beams, and in that moment, something in my chest caves in. Because that smile was for me. And I know without a doubt that I would burn the world down for her.
“Good job, Sera. Now eat the other ones on your plate,” Alie instructs.
I look between them. The love clear on their faces. And instead of jealousy for missing out on all these moments, I feel … content, peaceful. Because I know that even though I wasn’t here, this little girl of mine has been loved and cherished.
She dips another nugget into the sauce, and some of it drips on to her shirt while she lifts it to her mouth.
