I knew nothing about her birth father, except for the fact he didn’t want her. We had a short medical history he’d provided when he signed away his rights, but the social worker wouldn’t tell us anything, spouting some bullshit about his privacy and anonymity.
What about Frankie’s safety?
I heard Derek snort and then ask, “Where is your dad?”
“Mom and Dad got divorced. Dad went to jail for hurting us,” Frankie said as if it was nothing. I knew what the counselor said, but I wondered if she’d blocked out the really heinous things Richard had done.
“Fuck!” Derek shouted as the tool he held in his hand dropped on his head. He sat up from the sink and rubbed at the spot.
“Are you okay?” Frankie asked, rushing forward.
“Frankie!”
What was wrong with my daughter? Had she learned nothing from my mistakes?
“Yeah, sorry for my language,” he said, looking sheepishly up at me.
I found myself shrugging and excusing his outburst. “I’m sure that must have hurt.”
Derek pointed a finger at Frankie. “You don’t say shit like that.”
Frankie giggled, and I found myself smiling at the contradiction of telling a child not to swear while swearing again yourself.
“Everything okay?” Slyce asked from the other side of the room.
“Derek dropped the wrench on his head,” Frankie crowed as if it were funny.
Derek shook his head, but I didn’t miss the small smile on his lips. His full lips that looked firm. Like they had enough power behind them to melt an iceberg.
STOP IT!
“Hazards of the job,” he said before sliding back under the sink and getting to work, Frankie by his side watching everything he did.
My heart hurt as my girl talked quietly with Derek. He explained everything he was doing patiently, answering every question. This was the kind of thing a father did. This was quality time spent with a child.
I didn’t want to leave Frankie alone with Derek. He might seem nice, but he was still a stranger. But I needed a moment to pull myself together.
“Go. I’ll stay,” Slyce whispered beside me.
I looked up at her, tears filling my eyes. She nodded and rubbed my shoulder. I looked back one more time before fleeing outside to the front porch. I sat on the steps and cried for my daughter. For everything she’d been through. For everything she was missing out on because I’d chosen the wrong man.
Twice!
When I heard the door open, I quickly wiped my cheeks. I took a deep breath as Derek sat on the step next to me, his toolbox between his feet. He rested his elbows on his knees and stared straight ahead.
“You’re a good mom.”
I laughed at the statement. This man didn’t know anything about me. He’d spent less than an hour in my home.
“I loved my mom,” he said when I didn’t reply. “She was my whole fucking world. But she wasn’t a good mom. She didn’t protect me. She didn’t protect herself. My father was a bastard and a drunk. He beat her every day. When I was three, he started on me. And she didn’t do shit.”
My gasp was soft, but when he looked down at his hands, I knew he’d heard it.
“She tried. She got between my father and me and took the brunt of it. But she never left. Then he killed her.”
“Oh, Derek, I’m so sorry.” I placed a hand on his arm without thinking. He looked over at my hand and then up at me when I pulled it away.
“You’re a good mom. You got away. You protected your daughter.”
