On Friday evening he had dinner with his parents. Over a table full of roast beef and mashed potatoes, he said, “I’m going to see Grace and Carly tomorrow for two hours.”
“Oh,” his mother said, surprised. “What are you doing?”
“Don’t know. I’m supposed to be planning it, but I honestly don’t know what a two-year-old likes to do for two hours. Do you have any suggestions?”
His mother went motionless for a moment, looked over at his father, then back at him. “Sure. She loves to play on playground equipment. Ice cream. Coloring, painting. Listening to stories.”
He nodded, absorbing his mother’s list. Two hours was a long time with a toddler. Maybe he’d start with the playground, then have a combination of all the other ideas in his back pocket in case he needed them. He loaded up his fork and stuffed it in his mouth.
“When are you headed back to Chapel Hill, son?”
He looked up, swallowing. His mother’s laser focus was zeroed in on him. He laid his fork down, his mind running while he tried to keep his face from reflecting his thoughts. Now wasn’t the time to drop the bomb of his pending change in plans. At least not until he’d cleared it with the university and finalized his transfer plans. So, it wouldn’t necessarily be lying to his parents if he didn’t clue them in to the direction his current thoughts were taking him. Just omitting the truth.
“Chapel Hill semester starts after Labor Day.”
“So, the visit with Grace and Carly is to spend a little time before you leave town?”
He considered that one. A positive answer would be a straight-out lie. “Just a fun afternoon before school starts.” There, that was accurate, if not altogether honest.
The rest of the dinner passed uneventfully, and Ryan relaxed. When he said good-night and went to his room, he thought of the day, not too distant, when he’d need to break the news to his parents. He was leaving Chapel Hill and transferring to a college nearby, so he could be a full-time father to Grace.
The next day, he drove to Carly’s apartment. His mother had helpfully packed a picnic basket full of finger foods that might appeal to a two-year-old: peanut butter and jelly sandwich quarters, potato chips, grapes, juice boxes, goldfish crackers. She’d included paper plates and a tablecloth too, explaining that if they found a picnic table they could cover it, but if not, they could spread it on the grass and sit on it.
He left the basket in the car, tugging it over to one side so that Carly could install Grace’s car seat in the other. Checking the car clock – 12:57, he headed for the apartment. A gentle knock left him wondering what Grace’s reaction to him would be. He'd last seen her nearly two months ago. No excuses, but he had stayed in Chapel Hill most of this summer completing summer classes and hadn’t arrived in town until recently. Well, that type of lackluster fatherly behavior was over, starting today. Grace was his priority and he intended to make sure she knew it.
As he waited, a thought dawned on him. Would Grace adjust to calling him Daddy? When Grace’s speaking skills first started developing, he and Carly had agreed that she’d know him as “Ryan.” “Daddy” would only confuse her. They’d keep the two of them on a first name basis and not deal with the confusion of labeling him her daddy.
He hadn’t minded it before now. But that was going to change too. Although he knew enough about the partnership of parenthood to know that he needed to speak to Carly about this before springing it on Grace. So, for today anyway, “Ryan” it was. Or, more accurately, “Why-n.”
The door swung open and Grace stood in the doorway. A smile adorned her adorable face, which he hoped meant she was excited to see him. Where his daughter was concerned, he needed a second chance, big time.
“Hi there, baby doll.” He squatted to be closer to her height, and opened his arms, hoping she’d run into them for a hug. She didn’t. The smile stayed pasted on her face and she announced, “It’s Why-n.”
He reached out for one of her hands, squeezed and said, “So good to see you. You sure look pretty in your pink outfit.”
Carly came up behind him, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Oh yes, pink is our favorite color, isn’t it Grace? In fact, we had a temper tantrum this morning when we realized that all our pink outfits were in the laundry basket.”
Ryan glanced back at Grace with a mischievous expression, popping his hand over his mouth. “Uh oh. What’d you do, Grace?”
The little girl widened her eyes, offered him a shy shoulder. “I cried.”
“Well you must’ve really wanted to wear pink today, huh?”
She nodded. With a laugh she turned and ran into the apartment, leaving Ryan to stand, looking down at Carly. She rolled her eyes good naturedly and motioned him inside. “I’m probably the worst mother ever, but it was either force her to wear red or blue, or just wash the darn pink clothes.”
He smiled. “Pink it is!”
She nodded. “As a mother you definitely need to pick your battles. We do pretty well on the big stuff. She eats her meals, brushes her teeth, goes to bed. But she’s really picky about her wardrobe. What am I going to do when she’s sixteen instead of two?”
Ryan followed her into the living room, his mind racing with thoughts of parenthood. He should be here for the daily battles, so Carly wouldn’t have to pick them all on her own. “You’re not the worst mother ever.”
Carly popped her head up from her task of packing a bag with Grace’s supplies. She tilted her head, unsure about his delayed response.
“You’re a great mother. Don’t ever doubt that.”
She went motionless for a moment, then shrugged and moved a small stack of diapers from the table into the bag. “How would you know?” Her voice was low, and her tone casual. But he knew there was a lot of emotion lined up behind the simple question.
He moved over to the table, wondering how he could help. “Look, I know you don’t think I notice because I’ve probably never said anything before. But you are an awesome mother. I know it. Grace knows it. And you should know that too.”
She sniffed and concentrated intently on her task. “You’re never here long enough, or often enough to know if I’m a good mother or not.”
What she was saying was accurate, and the slice it made in his heart was like a severe injury. But he couldn’t blame her for telling the truth. So, he recovered and said casually, “I know. But my mom’s here a lot, isn’t she, and she tells me all the time what a great job you’re doing with Grace.” Lame, but true. His mother was very fond of Carly and had told him several times what a good mother she was. “And I want today’s visit to be the start of me spending a lot more time with Grace. The kid deserves to have not only a great mom, but a good dad, too.”
Carly’s eyes went wide. He sensed her effort at holding in her words, biting her tongue as she contemplated his statement before she zipped the bag shut tight. The sudden noise made them both jump. “We’ll see about that, Ryan.”
Of course, she’d doubt his trustworthiness. Actions spoke much louder than words, and his actions so far, where Grace was concerned, had been crap. So, he’d keep his mouth shut and start letting his actions do the talking. He had all the time in the world. Any good mother would make him prove his worth as Grace’s father. He expected nothing less than her suspicion.
He turned to Grace who was now twirling in little circles in front of the cartoon on the television. “Hey Gracie girl, do you want to go to the park and play on the playground?”
That caught her attention and she clapped her hands, the cartoon now forgotten as she jumped up and down, clapping. “Yaaaaaay.”
Carly jumped into mommy mode, grabbing the diaper bag, throwing instructions at Grace and locking up the apartment behind them. When they got to the parking lot, she headed to her car while Ryan headed towards his. “Can you help me get the car seat latched properly into my backseat?” he called over his shoulder.
She
kept walking and responded, “No, we’ll take my car. The seat’s already in place.”
He bit his tongue and swallowed his disappointment. But it didn’t matter. Carly was probably right. It was easier this way.
“Okay, I’ll get the picnic basket and bring it over.” Joining them at Carly’s car, he laughed. “This is the same car you’ve had since I met you.”
She gave him a pointed look. “Yes, Ryan. It was old then, and it’s even older now.”
He shut his mouth. Every time he opened it around her he was sticking his foot in it. Of course, she had the same car. How would she have bought a new one? While his expenses were paid by a combination of his academic scholarship and his generous parents, Carly had no such luxury. She was a truly self-sufficient single mother, working hard to raise her daughter and educate herself. She deserved his respect, not flippant comments about the age of her car.
He hated to admit this, but if their positions were reversed: if Carly had had their baby, then abandoned her – and him – and left him to the day to day care and financing of such a life, how would he be doing? How would he treat her? He’d be resentful, he could say that with certainty. Especially if she was off at college living life the way she’d planned, as if nothing had changed.
He glanced over at Carly while she drove. “Okay, baby girl, off we go,” she chanted, a smile on her face. He couldn’t look away. Staring at her brought him back to when they’d first met in high school, when they were connected at the hip and head over heels in love, either with each other, or at least with the idea of being in love. He was the forward on the basketball team, and she was the sole sophomore cheerleader on the varsity squad. She’d attracted someone’s attention in the coaching staff with her athletic abilities. Her slight size made her a perfect candidate for the position of “flyer,” and her fearless courage allowed her to be thrown high into the air, arcing gracefully and then being caught by her teammates before she went crashing to the wooden floor.
In early November, he realized that the cute little cheerleader with the strawberry blonde hair, the freckles and the tiny little fit body, was someone he wanted to meet. By Thanksgiving he’d asked her out on a date, and by Christmas he’d fallen, hard. He’d picked out a stack of presents for her and presented them to her one by one under the mistletoe. A kiss in exchange for a gift. It seemed like a great deal to him.
By spring break, they both knew she was pregnant, and by prom, she no longer fit into the dress she’d picked out. A different one was needed to accommodate her baby bump. And by the time Grace was born, he was well into his first semester at Chapel Hill, trying to forget what he’d left behind. By Christmas break, he had become so accustomed to college life, the normalness of it, he hardly spoke Grace’s name to his friends. He’d get news of her occasionally from his mom. But it was so easy to pretend that it had never happened.
Easy for him. Not so for Carly.
Carly pulled into a little local park, the entire drive completed while his mind whirred over their past. Carly turned to him. “You mentioned a playground. Did you have one in mind?”
He looked around. “This is fine. I figured she’d enjoy the swings, a slide, whatever.”
Carly parked the car and went around to the back to unfasten Grace. The little girl bobbed on her toes in excitement. “Grace, hold Mommy’s hand.”
Ryan pulled out the picnic basket, and hooking the handle over his arm, he joined the ladies. “How about you hold Mommy’s hand, and Ryan’s hand, both?” She nodded, and they walked, connected, over the expanse of lawn, up a small hill.
“Mommy! What’s this?” Grace exclaimed. Her eyes took in the sight of an unexpected surprise: a carnival had set up at the park, complete with ponies to ride, a roller coaster, Scrambler and Ferris wheel, and even a selection of bumper cars.
“Cool!” he yelled, probably as excited as she was. “This’ll be fun.” He set the picnic basket down on a nearby table, and his gaze trained on the carnival, he swept Grace into his arms, and then up onto his shoulders in one swoop. She let loose an excited laugh.
He headed down the hill in the direction of all the fun. “Ryan,” Carly said, then a little stronger, “Ryan, wait.”
He came to a halt and turned toward her. “What?”
She shook her head. “I’m not so sure about this.”
“Why?”
“First of all, it’s expensive. There’s an entry fee for each person, then once you’re inside the gates, each and every ride costs extra tickets.”
The money. Of course, she’d be worried about the money. He tried to set her mind at ease. “Hey, don’t worry. My fun day with Grace, my treat.” He gave her a reassuring grin and turned back to the carnival.
They went through the front gate and strolled around, seeing all the carnival had to offer. He couldn’t see Grace’s face, so he looked down at Carly. “Is she okay up there?”
Carly was studying her with apprehension, head tilted back, eyes narrowed. She paused before responding, “I guess she is. She’s never been that high before. But I suppose if she was scared, she’d let us know.” Then she directed her next words at Grace, “You okay, Grace?”
“I got her, Carly. I won’t let anything happen to her.”
Carly let her gaze land on his eyes and dwell there for a minute. She nodded briefly.
At the ponies, Grace squirmed and leaned down so she could yell in his ear. “Horsie! Horsie!”
He swung her off his shoulders and onto her feet. She took off like a bullet. “Grab her!” instructed Carly so he chased her and within two steps, covered the distance and grabbed her hand.
“Ride horsie?” she asked with such a cute little voice and face that he knew there was absolutely no way he could deny her. He wanted to give her whatever she desired, so it was his fervent hope that Carly wouldn’t deny her this either.
He glanced over at Carly. “I’ll walk along beside her, holding her in the saddle if you’d like.”
Carly looked over at the children riding the ponies. The animals were small, short to the ground, wore saddles and stirrups for the children to hold onto, and best of all, they were slow. All that was missing was a seatbelt. And for each little child like Grace, either Mom or Dad was walking right alongside.
Huh. Maybe his paternal instincts were surfacing.
“Okay, but make sure she doesn’t fall off. I don’t want her getting hurt.”
A laugh escaped him, and he looked at her with irony. She bristled but then laughed along too. “I guess I didn’t have to tell you that, right?”
“It’s okay.” He knelt in front of Grace and said, “Let’s go ride ‘em, cowgirl.”
She squealed, and they made their way to the horse line. “I’m a cowgirl.”
“Yes, you are.”
“Cowgirl hat,” she announced, pointing at her head.
“Just like a woman,” he said good-naturedly. “Always in search of a shopping opportunity.”
They waited through two rotations, and then it was Grace’s turn. “You’re up, Grace.” He took her hand and walked into the rink with her, approaching the pony they were directed to, a pinto named Patches. “Do you like this one?”
She gave a determined nod, her mouth clamped shut, eyes wide, looking up with a mix of excitement and fear. She wanted to ride, but she wanted to scream a little bit too. He helped set the tone by lifting her into his arms and going to the little horse’s face, holding his palm out so the little guy could nuzzle his velvety mouth against it. “He likes me. He’s giving my hand little kisses.”
She let out a gasp and held out her tiny hand too.
“Yeah, palm straight out so he can’t bite your fingers.”
Back to fear, she darted him a look. Ooops. Don’t tell her worst-case scenario, Ryan. “Not on purpose, sweetheart. Just by accident if you stuck your fingers in his mouth. He’d think you were giving him food and take a b
ite. So just hold your hand out flat like that. Good.” The horse nuzzled her palm too and she let out a delighted giggle.
“Want to get on Patches’ back?”
By this time, she was comfortable. She nodded excitedly. He swung her high so her legs cleared the pony’s back and when she was in place in the saddle, he maneuvered her feet into the stirrups and showed her where to hang on.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll be right here beside you the whole ride. You won’t fall.”
“Won’t fall,” she parroted.
He wished they’d sold little cowgirl hats on the carnival grounds because he would’ve bought her one and she would’ve looked adorable. The kid was so cute. A balance of her mom’s fair skin and green eyes, and his chestnut hair. Features combined from both her parents to create one unique face. His heart welled with affection for their little family and he glanced across the ring at Carly. She was watching intently, of course, and he beamed a smile in her direction. She shifted her gaze from Grace to him, hesitated a second, then gave him a thumbs up.
He turned back to Grace. “Can you say, giddy up?”
“Giddy ...,” Grace tried.
“Giddy up is horse language for ‘let’s get going.’”
She leaned forward in her seat and yelled, “Giddy up!” At that moment, the cowboy managing the ponies got them started. The one in front of Patches started walking, and so did Patches. Grace triumphantly grinned and held onto the saddle horn with white-knuckled excitement.
Five minutes later, the pony ride was done, and Ryan deemed it a great success by the way Grace jogged over to her mom and chattered non-stop about it. Carly knelt and gave Grace a hug. “I’m so glad you had a good time.”
“What’s next?” Ryan asked good-naturedly. “Bumper cars?”
“Yeah!” exclaimed Grace.
“No bumper cars,” said Carly.
He missed the storm in her eyes and pushed it. “Why not? Bumper cars are fun. She can sit right in my lap and they’ll put the strap over both of us.”
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