“What’s the matter, baby?” I ask, thinking she may have stubbed her toe on the uneven concrete.
I see her face break out in a cheek splitting grin, then she screams, “Daddy!”
My heart falls through my stomach and onto the pavement. I look up and see Roam. He looks shocked that she knows who he is, but he holds his arms wide and Lola slams into him, knocking him on his ass.
“Daddy, you’re here,” Lola cries.
My heart breaks.
“Yeah, darlin’. Daddy’s here,” Roam’s voice cracks.
“Can you stay? Can you come to my house? I can show you all my things and I’ll show you where I keep all the pretties that you send me.” Lola is so excited; she’s bouncing in his lap.
“If it’s all right with your mom, I’d love nothing more, darlin’.”
“Momma, is it okay? Can daddy come to our house? Can he?”
I swallow the massive lump in my throat and then nod. “Of course.”
Lola takes Roam’s hand and helps him off the pavement. Then, still griping his hand, she tugs him in the direction of our house. I walk behind them, dragging my feet. I’m shaking so hard, I can barely put one foot in front of the other.
Roam doesn’t look at me; he focuses solely on our daughter. It hurts, but I can hardly blame him.
“Hurry up, momma,” Lola whines to me.
I speed up and unlock the door for them. Lola takes Roam straight into her bedroom and begins showing him her things. To distract myself, I set about preparing some supper. I decide on fried pork chops with butter beans, creamed corn and fried corn bread.
I hear Lola and Roam talking in animated voices. She explains every one of her toys in great details, and he sounds like he’s reveling in her story telling. I can’t make out their words, really. It’s just the pitches in their voices
Lola’s voice comes clearer as she walks closer to me. I know she’s going to the special cabinet, and I bite my lip, unsure of how this is going to play out.
“This is all the stuff you send me, daddy. I keep it in this special shelf with your letters – except the Dora dolly you sent me for my birthday, that’s too big to fit,” she tells him matter-of-factly.
“Uh, wow, that’s some real nice stuff.”
“You bought it, silly,” she laughs at him.
When the food is ready, I call them to eat. As we sit at the table, Lola doesn’t stop talking. She fills her father in on every life event that she can remember. Her blue eyes haven’t stopped twinkling since Roam turned up.
Roam still doesn’t acknowledge me.
When we’ve finished eating, I clear the plates and set about giving Lola a bath.
“I’m so excited that Daddy is here, momma. Is he gonna live with us now?”
“Uh, let’s just enjoy daddy being here for now, baby.”
“Okay.”
She climbs out and I dress her in her favorite Dora the Explorer pajamas.
“Can daddy read my bedtime story to me tonight? Please?” She begs.
“I’d love to, darlin’.”
“Yay!”
I tuck her into bed and then leave the room.
I stand behind the half closed door. I don’t want them to know I’m there. I just want to listen. Really listen. I want to hear what he’s like with her. This is it. After four long years, he’s back. I’m still as broken as the day he broke me.
“Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess,” he starts.
“That’s mommy,” she points out, referring to me.
“She moved to a small town one day, and there she met a handsome prince.”
“That’s you,” she says excitedly. I hear him chuckle.
“The prince was tall with dark hair and a short beard. He rode a big motorcycle and wore a leather jacket. The princess loved the prince’s blue eyes; they twinkled when he was happy. The princess fell in love with the handsome prince. She loved him so much that she had a baby. The most beautiful baby the world has ever seen-,”
“That’s me!” She claps, interrupting him.
I hear him chuckle, before he continues. “The princess looked down at her baby and named her Lola. She looked just like her daddy, with her dark hair and bright blue eyes. The prince and the princess were so happy with their new baby. They couldn’t wait to take her home so she could meet her older brother. The prince had a son, whose name was Jasper. Jasper looked just like his dad as well, except he had blonde hair. He lived in another town, but he visited often.”
I hold my breath as he nears the end of the bedtime story I know by heart - I’ve read it to her every night for the past four years; every night since she was ten weeks old. But that’s not the only reason I know it so well, I know it because I wrote it. The words are our story.
“One day, the princess got a sore heart. She was very sad, so she took the beautiful baby and moved them away so she would be happy again. The princess never stopped loving the prince, though. For every time she sees her daughters twinkling blue eyes, she is reminded of him and it makes her smile. The End.”
I hear him saying goodnight to her, so I tiptoe away. He’ll come and find me when he’s ready to talk. I know he wants to; it’s why he’s here. Well, that and to see his daughter. He wants answers. He’s mad, and he’s got every right to be. I’m not mad anymore. I’ve forgiven him, but just because you forgive, doesn’t mean you can forget.
I pour myself a glass of milk and wait for him. I hear his heavy boots lightly thumping as he makes his way down the floorboards of my hall. I sense him stop when he reaches the doorway of the kitchen, where I am. So I turn to face him. Gone are the tender eyes he gave to our daughter. In their place are hard, cold, livid eyes.
“Roam,” I whisper. I don’t know what else to say. I don’t know what else to do. He’s not scaring me, as such; I know he’d never hurt me. But, I don’t like being on the receiving end of the look he’s giving me and I don’t like knowing that it is my actions that caused that look to appear on his face. The silence is deafeningly uncomfortable. I want to run again, but I know I won’t, because I made a promise to myself. For the sake of my daughter, I would never run again. I would face my problems head on. I would not run.
“You better get to fuckin’ explainin’,” he growls at me. I flinch a little at the harshness of his words, and then I take a deep breath.
“Would you like something to drink?”
“Does it fuckin’ look like I want something to drink?”
No. No it doesn’t. “Maybe we should sit,” I suggest as I walk through into the living room. I sit down carefully on the edge of one of my couches and wait for him to do the same. He sits directly across from me, on top of the coffee table.
“Talk, Lacey,” he barks.
“I,” I start and then pause. I don’t know what to say. This is so much more difficult than I imagined it would be. He’s angry, and yeah he has a right to be, but dammit, so do I! He cheated on me and got another woman pregnant, for God’s sake.
“YOU FUCKIN’ LEFT ME,” he roars at me. “Took my fuckin’ kid and took you!” I watch as a single tear falls from his eye and my heart shatters.
“I’m sorry,” I sob.
“Sorry? You’re fuckin’ sorry,” he spits at me. “That’s all you got? You’re sorry? Well, it ain’t fuckin’ good enough, Lacey.”
He looks at me, his blue blazing. He deserves an explanation, because I know, above anything else, taking a child from a perfectly fit parent is wrong. I know that, and I've regretted it, ever since I left. But, sometimes, it’s too hard to go back on the choices we’ve made. Sometimes, it seems easier to live in ignorance, than to say you’re sorry. Sometimes, things hurt so bad they cloud your judgment, and even though you know deep in your bones that you’re taking the wrong path, you still can’t see clearly enough to get on the right track.
Finally, it’s time for me to do the right thing. So, I lay my cards on the table.
“Please let me explain withou
t interruption. Can you do that?” I ask, my voice quiet.
His eyes soften slightly, then he nods.
“When Christa came to the house that day and told me she was expecting your baby, I’ve never felt so much pain. My heart,” my palm automatically grasps the area, “my heart felt like it had been ripped out of chest and then slammed onto a bed of nails. I was blinded by pain, and the only thing I could focus on were words that my mother had made me promise her after each time my father hurt her. She made me promise to run away whenever there was a chance I could get hurt. I’ve known it was the wrong thing to do, for a while if I am honest, but I just haven’t wanted to admit it to myself. To be completely truthful, I had convinced myself that with Christa and the new baby, it wouldn’t have taken you long to forget about me and Lola.” His growl interrupts me, but I continue. “I truly am sorry; Roam, for taking Lola away from you. I let the pain I was feeling dictate the decisions I was making, and those choices affected the two people I love most.” I don’t even realize I am crying until the wetness begins to turn cold on my cheeks. I swipe the tears away and look at him. My eyes are full of sorrow and sincerity. I hope he can feel how genuine my words are.
I watch his jaw tick, as I wait for him to say something.
He says nothing. He just looks at me. My heart skips a beat when he stands up. Then, he nods and stalks towards the kitchen.
Turning back to me once he reaches the doorway, he says, “Tell Lola, I’ll be back to see her next week.”
He leaves.
My heart bleeds.
The doorbell chimes and I hear Lola shout, “Daddy!”
Tears threaten. I ignore the burning sensation in my nose and behind my eyes, and instead, I plaster a fake smile on my face.
“Hi, Roam,” I greet quietly.
“Lacey.” One word. That’s it. That’s all I get. I bite my lip so I won’t cry.
“Can you take me on your bike, Daddy?” Lola jumps up and down, clapping her hands. Her face is lit up by the biggest of smiles and her eyes are twinkling so bright, they might blind me.
My heart swells. I’ve never seen her so happy.
“If it’s alright with your momma, I can,” Roam smiles indulgently at her.
“Momma, please? Please can I go with Daddy on his bike?” She begs, her hands claps together, bottom lip stuck out in a pout.
“Okay,” I smile. “Why don’t y’all ride down to the park? I’ll walk and meet y’all there.”
“Yay!” I watch as Lola races down the drive and stands beside her father’s Harley.
“C’mon, Daddy,” she shouts.
Roam looks at me. He opens his mouth to say something, and then shakes his head. He looks down at the ground and walks away.
I take a deep breath and walk out towards them. He settles Lola in front of him, and shows her where to hold on. I laugh at the oversized helmet strapped to her head, and then wave as Roam slowly coasts down the road.
Ten minutes later, I make it to the park. Roam is pushing Lola on the swing. The sound of her giggling fills the air.
“Did you have fun on the motorcycle?” I ask Lola.
“Yes, it was so much. I love riding on motorcycles!” She gushes.
“Well, I’m glad y’all had a good time.”
I watch as Lola runs off to go down the slide. Roam surprises me by sliding his arm around my shoulder and kissing my head. “Did good with her, sugar,” he says, his voice gruff. He kisses my temple and walks away.
I swipe away a tear that escapes, then I shove a sucker in my mouth and walk over to the slide.
The doorbell chimes and I hear Lola shout, “Daddy!”
It’s been six weeks since Roam came back into our lives, and every week she’s just as excited as the last to see her daddy.
Today, we’re taking Lola to the zoo. She grabs her backpack off the couch and races out to her father’s truck. Swinging my handbag over my shoulder, I do a quick mental recap to make sure I have everything. I check my pocket for my phone and then lock the door behind me.
Thirty-five minutes later, we arrive at the zoo. After finding a parking spot, we make our way in to look at the animals. I take out my camera and snap way too many photos of Lola with every animal imaginable. I even manage to take few of Roam and Lola acting like gorillas outside the primate section.
“Momma, this is best day, ever.”
“Glad you having fun, baby,” I stroke her cheek with my thumb.
“Y’all hungry?” Roam asks.
“I am!” Lola answers.
My rumbling belly answers for me. Lola and Roam both chuckle. We find an empty table at the zoo café and order some food.
After we’ve eaten, Lola runs off to feed the birds her sandwich leftovers, while Roam and I watch her from our seats.
All too soon, it’s time to go home. Lola falls asleep on the drive back, so when we arrive home, Roam carries her into bed and I help him tuck her in.
“Best day, ever,” she mumbles in her sleep.
I grin at Roam, and he grins at me. His dimples appear and my heart stutters. My stomach clenches as I take in his beauty.
God, it’s been so long since I’ve felt anyone’s touch but my own. My breathing gets heavier as memories of me and Roam making love fill my mind.
“We gotta talk now, sugar,” Roam startles me by announcing.
“Uh, okay. Talk, okay,” I stumble over my words as I try to clear my brain.
We walk into the living room and I take a seat on the couch. Roam sits on the coffee table.
“I get it,” he surprises me by saying.
My brows pull together. “You get it?” I ask, confused.
“I get it,” he repeats. “Why you did what you did – I get it,” he explains.
“You do?” I ask hopefully. My heart begins to gallop in my chest and a lump forms in my throat.
“Yeah, sugar, I do.”
A sob escapes my lips.
“But you should have given me a chance to explain.”
“I know that now.”
“I’ve missed four fuckin’ years with my daughter, and four years with the woman I wanted to spend my life with.”
I hang my head in shame.
“Christa was never pregnant, Lacey.”
My head springs up. “What?” I ask in disbelief. I feel faint. “Yes, she was. I saw her, Roam. She was pregnant, heavily pregnant.”
“No, sugar, she wasn’t. It was fake. It was all a bunch of lies to get you to leave so she could move in on me.”
“Oh my god,” I whisper.
“You woulda let me explain, you woulda known that about five minutes after she spewed her bullshit.”
“Why? Why would someone want to tear apart a family?” My mind whirls. “What the fuck is wrong with her?” I shout. “She ruined my fucking life.” I begin to sob uncontrollably. All of the anger, hurt, lies and regret purges from my body, as I sit hunched over with my head between my knees.
Two, strong arms lift me up and then I’m sitting in the comfort of Roam’s lap. My senses are filled with his scent and a feeling of contentment immediately washes over me.
“Don’t cry, sugar. Ain’t nothin’ can be done now to change the past,” he hushes me.
I sniffle away the last of my tears, wiping my snotty nose on my sleeve in the most unladylike manner imaginable. Roam’s hands go under my arms and he lifts me off him, setting me back down on the couch. Another sob escapes my throat at the loss of his warmth.
I sigh heavily and then look into his tired, hurt, sad blue eyes. I imagine mine mirror his.
“So, what happens now?” I ask, cautiously.
He lets out a breath. “Got a lot of shit to work through, sugar. No more runnin’, Lacey. ‘Bout time you started fighting to stay.”
“I know,” I nod. “I know that, that’s why I’ve planted roots here.”
“No, Lacey. You gotta start fighting to stay, with me.”
“You want to be with me?” Fresh tears
fill my eyes.
“Ain’t ever wanted to be with anyone else, sugar.” I watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows hard. His voice is hoarse as he tries to overcome the overwhelming emotions that we’re both struggling with.
“And you never cheated on me?”
“Fuck no!”
“Oh God, Roam, I’m so sorry,” I cry. My chest constricts and the shield I had been building around my heart for the last four years, disintegrates on the spot.
“Come on, sugar. Don’t cry. It’s over, now. We can only look forward.”
“I love you, Roam,” I sob. “I never stopped. Not ever. I love you so much.”
He looks deep into my eyes and through the hurt, I see a little twinkle in his blue depths. “Love you, sugar. Now it’s time for make-up sex. Hope you’re ready, darlin’, ‘cause I got plans to turn your ass a different color.”
I feel my cheeks heat.
“You had other men, Lacey?” Roam grips my chin gently between his thumb and index finger, and tilts my head so I’m looking into his eyes.
“Only you,” I whisper.
“Good.” His lips crash into mine. My arms fold around his neck and I hold him to me, tightly. His hands move down to cup my ass and then he lifts me up. My legs automatically wrap around his waist, and he begins to walk.
He lays me back on the bed and proceeds to methodically remove my clothing. By the time he gets me naked, I’m panting and aching all over for his touch. He grasps my right ankle in his hands runs his tongue over the arch in my foot and I squirm at the sensation. His beard tickles me as he kisses up my leg until he reaches my knees. He spreads my legs as far apart as they will go, leaving me fully exposed to him. Then, he continues kissing until he reaches the top of my thigh. Just when I think his mouth will find my soaking center, he stands, and grasps my left ankle. He chuckles at my moan in frustration, then he licks the arch of my foot, repeating the same torturously sweet process as before.
Finally, he reaches the apex of my thighs. My body shudders when he runs his finger through the wetness that’s accumulated there.
“So wet for me, Lacey.”
“Yes,” I keen.
His tongue snakes out and licks me from top to bottom. I cry out and arch my hips skywards. “Missed the taste of you, sugar.”
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