Her eyes move to cut right through me. “Yes.” She’s frustrated that I would even ask.
“You should have tried harder to find me.”
Elodie sighs as we both look forward, probably at the stack of hay with a scarecrow sitting on top outside the coffeehouse called Foxy Rox. “Except privacy laws really make hotels unwilling to comply,Hale.Do you really want to go around in circles? What’s most important is that you know this wasn't intentional.”
It's a fair point. I look at her, and she meets me halfway. A quick memory of her in my arms, laughing and smelling of coconut, flashes by. We never ran out of things to say that night. But facts remain. “We barely know each other,” I admit.
I can't read her facial expression, but she seems to accept it.
“I don’t know what to do now,” she admits. “I don’t need your money or expect?—”
I chuckle under my breath, bitterness tightening my voice because the facts of the matter return. "It’s simple how this is going to go. I want you to know I’m determined to set things right with regard to Lola. Everything has come to mind while I waited for you. There are logistics. You will receive child support for all the years of missed payments. Lola can have her last name changed. A trust will be set up for her. My name is sure as hell going on that birth certificate, and I expect 50/50 on custody." Each word lands sharply.
She stands with her fists clenched and her face beginning to turn red. “No! You can't just waltz right in and uproot our lives.Herlife.”
I stretch my arm along the bench, jaw set. "‘Waltz’ is generous, sweetheart. I never even knew she existed. I lost two irreplaceable years, and that’s not something I can just accept."
Elodie grasps that I’m not backing down with my requests and quickly sits down with panic glinting in her eyes. She angles her body to me, intent on making me listen. “Will you stop! I get it. You missed it all and I didn't, but you need to take a step back. This is a lot to process. I clearly move at a different pace than you. And you have yet to meet Lola.” Her eyes pinch shut, then open, at the reality. “I mean properly, not spontaneously across a yard.”
“Then we make that happen,” I say, direct, even if every word she said is chipping away at this exterior I've chosen to wear today.
She grumbles in frustration, and in another fucked-up world where this wouldn't be our topic, I would consider it sexy as fuck.
Her hand movements signal for me to calm down. I pause, breathe, and reflect on where this conversation is heading.I perhaps need to take my foot off the gas pedal a bit. And I do, but I’m left in a cloud of curiosity.
“Allergic to pineapple,” I say faintly, remembering our earlier conversation. I lean forward and rest my elbows on my knees.
A subtle ease finds her. “Yeah. Not serious but enough to keep being cautious.”
Is this our starting point to step away from the legal talk of custody and those things? For me to calm down?
“When did she start to walk?”
“Thirteen months, though walk is an understatement—she ran. She’s learning to talk: animals, people, cookies. She has a stuffed bunny named Bagel.”
My mouth cracks into a half-smile from that. “Bagel?”
Elodie shrugs, smiling. “She named her at brunch a few weeks ago, and it stuck. Lola loves blueberry bagels with strawberry cream cheese.”
It slips into my mind. The fact that this woman in front of me carried my child for nine months and brought her into the world. “Labor went okay?”
She nods. “Yeah, I mean, I guess average. Savannah was there. She’s Lola’s godmother.” Our circles are even more entwined.
“Why the name Lola?”
Shrugging, she still maintains a soft smile. “I wanted something similar to me. Kind of had this view that it would be her and me, best friends hopefully. Plus, it’s a cute and playful name.”
“It’s not going to be just you and her anymore.” My voice is soft because the idea of her doing this all alone pings inside me. It's what she has been doing, but I'm in the picture now.
I like hearing things about Lola. I'm melting a bit. I can't help but wonder what it would've been like to witness hermilestone moments. What would I have felt? Now, I can only imagine, as anger refuels inside me.
But then I recall seeing Lola for the first time and the lightning strike without doubt that she’s mine. The shape of her mouth and nose was the giveaway; her eyes are far too familiar to my own. I tamp down my emotions and shock because I crave to learn every little detail about her.
“You'll send me photos?” I'm eager.
“Of course.”
“What else does she like?”
