“It’s hard not to be. You went all in, so I did too. Now, you need to clean up whatever this shit is before the rest of the band gets here and starts asking questions. I don’t feel like listening to Ronny ask over and over again if Tate beat you or whatever else his crazy mind comes up with.”
He helped me up and I went to my bathroom to do as he had suggested. He was right. By the time Tate, Ronny, and Cash came around no one had a clue that I had been a sobbing mess that morning. We rehearsed like normal.
I was able to get the boys out of my house with an excuse that I had a headache and wanted to relax with Tate before calling it an early night. Tate offered to make dinner and let me relax with Cara. I felt guilty about lying to him about the headache, so I offered to help him in the kitchen rather than let him cook alone.
Despite his bragging about his cooking skills, he still burned the pizza he baked. The salad I prepared to go with it came out great, if I was to say so myself. After dinner we went through our nightly routines, showering, putting on pj’s, and getting Cara down. She wasn’t in her own room yet, so we put her in her bassinet next to my side of the bed.
We were all in bed before ten and Tate was fast asleep shortly after. I found myself struggling. I had completely forgotten to call my dad back. Or rather, conveniently forgotten to do so. I wasn’t ready to talk yet, despite my brother’s pep talk.
Eventually, I got up and decided to get a glass of water. Maybe he’d still be up. I looked at the time and realized that it was almost seven in the morning there. He was probably out cold from last night’s performance. Guilt sloshed around in my stomach. I hoped he hadn’t been waiting for my call. I leaned against the counter, sipping my water and sighing when a knock on my door bolted me upright.
I set my glass down and went to the front door cautiously. Someone coming around at this hour wasn’t really uncommon, but that was before Tate and Cara became permanent residents. Who would be knocking now? I peered through the peephole and saw dark hair and a tall body. I relaxed and opened the door. Dallas.
No, it wasn’t. I froze. I opened the door wide and my heart stopped. Suddenly tears sprang from my eyes like turning a faucet on full blast. I could barely find the words as I stared at the middle-aged man who shared my raven hair and ocean eyes.
“Dad?”
He opened his arms to me and I hurried forward, thrusting my entire body into his hug. He wrapped his warm, familiar arms around me tightly. He was here. How could this be real?
We stood in the door for a long while. He waited until I was ready to let go before taking a step back. I wiped my face and blinked away any leftover tears. I had to press my lips together to stop the crying altogether.
“Come in, come in. Are you alright? You must be exhausted,” I urged him forward. He came in and stood in the living room, hands in pockets.
“I slept on the plane. Although I’ll probably feel groggy for a bit when I head back. My inner clock will be all sorts of wonky. So, do you want to talk now?” he smiled kindly. His eyes were filled with concern and love and everything that made me feel safe.
“Sure, I mean, obviously. You’re here. I can’t believe you came. You shouldn’t have,” I stumbled over my words. He shook his head and went to plop down on my couch. He patted the other cushion and I joined him quickly.
“My daughter needed me much more than any sea of fans will. I had them reschedule for tomorrow. Now, tell me why you were so upset.”
I shook my head, still in disbelief. I couldn’t even fathom how angry he had just made a lot of people. Or how much money it cost for him to come here. For me. I sniffled, the memory of it all returning.
“You know... about Tate.”
He nodded.
“I do.”
“And the baby. It’s a girl,” I paused, waiting for his reaction. He simply continued to nod slightly. “She’s beautiful,” I added.
“Does this baby girl have a name?”
“Cara Daisy Whitlock.”
“It’s very pretty. And what role do you play in all of this?”
“I changed my name to Whitlock already. I’m raising her with Tate. I want to be her mother.”
“Want to be, or are?”
“What do you mean?” I tilted my head in confusion.
“You’re acting like you’re embarrassed about it all. You can’t be. Either you’re all in or you’re all out. If you want to be her mother, then you are. Which... means I’m officially a grandpa?” He tested out the words. He cocked an eyebrow at me, which made me giggle. I nodded excitedly, tears starting to return. This time, they were happy ones. I shook them away.
“I think it does.”
“I know it’s late, but I don’t have much time before I have to go back to the airport. May I see the little thing that has you so ready to change your life for?”
I smiled and leapt off the couch to go get her. Thankfully, she was already stirring for another bottle, so I didn’t feel too guilty about getting her out of her bed. I took her out of the room and brought her to my dad. I flicked a dim lamp on to let him get a good look at her.
