"Daddy?" I heard a little voice and I opened my eyes.
"Yes?"
"Why are you sleeping?" she pointed out the window, "Look, the sun is still out."
I laughed, "I wasn't sleeping, baby.. just resting my eyes."
"Oh," she frowned.
She looked upset, and I wasn't sure why. She had been up in her room playing, but not for too long. I had only been laying on the couch for about 15 minutes.
"What's wrong, sweetie?" I opened my arms for her and she crawled in my lap.
"How come I don't have a mommy?" she looked into my eyes and about killed me. My heart ached for her. I saw myself in her eyes, when I would ask my mother why I didn't have a father.
What was the easiest way for her to understand this? Oh, shit, nothin' was easy. I had been dreading this question since she was born.
"Your mommy wasn't as grown-up as daddy and she didn't want to have a baby."
No, no, no. McLean, you've done it now, you've told your child she was unwanted. Oh, fuck.
"Mommy loved you very much."
I cringed inside. She didn't love her and she never had. She had kidnapped her, for God's sake. I had to lie, I had to lie to my daughter. I couldn't hurt her anymore than she had been hurt.
"What did Mommy look like?" she asked me.
The thing was... I didn't really know her mom. I never knew Claire. I don't have much to tell her, and I don't think I have anything to show her.
Wait, yes I do. The picture from the hospital, from the day she was born.
"When did you start thinking of mommy?" I asked her. I was curious what sparked this question in the first place.
"Because the girls on TV have mommy's."
I sighed, "You know what?"
"What?" she looked up at me with curiousity.
"I never had a Daddy."
Her eyes opened wide, "You didn't?"
"Nope," I replied, "All I had was my mommy, who's your grandma."
"So your daddy didn't make you PB&J's like you make me?"
The question made me laugh because she was so serious. But it also made me sad... I was really proud that I had done so much more than my own father had done.
"No, my daddy didn't make me PB&J's like I make you," I grinned at her and pinched her nose, "I love you, baby."
"Will you play Barbie's with me?" she asked.
I smiled, "If I must."
I wasn't the greatest candidate for playing Barbies, doing her hair, or girly stuff but I tried my best.
She started to crawl back out of my lap but I grabbed her back and kissed her cheek, "Do you know why your so special?"
She giggled and replied, "Because I get a cool Daddy!"
I smiled at her, "Good answer. Your special because you mean everything to your daddy, and I couldn't live without you."
"Love you, DaDa," she started to crawl off my lap again, "Can we pweease play Barbies now?"
I laughed, "Of course."
As I watched her play Barbies, I realized how smart she really was. I know it was an odd time to find out her intelligence but she made these dools talk like real adults. My baby really knew more than I thought.
I hated her not knowing who her mother was. It killed me because I never wanted for my kid to have to go through what I went through. My whole life I promised myself that. But I did my duty, it's just her mother didn't. I sighed.
"Daddy, your not playing!" she shoved the doll in my face and I took it from her.
"Sorry," I replied, and snapped out of my thoughts.
I just shook my head to myself and smiled. I could smile 'cuz I knew she was going to turn out fine. When she gets a little older, I'll tell her the real story but not now. Or anytime soon.