She slowly held the phone up so I could see. I remembered the argument we’d had about me going through her phone. Remembered her asking Michael if he had told me something. I took the phone from her hand and adjusted my glasses. Looked down at a little girl who, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say looked like . . . me.
“Who is this?” I asked her.
“Michael’s daughter . . .”
I scratched my chin. Ran a hand through my locks and frowned. No way could what I was thinking be true. “You sure?”
“He’s been raising her as his daughter.”
“So this isn’t his daughter?”
“Not biologically, no.”
“So . . . I mean, I don’t understand,” I said, lying to Summer and to myself. “Sadi and Michael adopted?”
She shook her head, and the tears in her eyes rolled down her rosy cheeks. “Nah, she’s Sadi’s biological daughter.”
My left leg started to shake. Heart was threatening to explode in my chest. “How . . . how old is she?”
“Had just turned ten before Michael got here.”
I moved my glasses so that they sat atop my head, used my index finger and thumb to rub the inner corners of my eyes. Sat there doing the simple math in my head.
“She’s your daughter, David,” Summer told me quietly. “He has known for quite some time. Sadi doesn’t know that he knows, or she thinks he’s too stupid to know, but yeah, he knows. He was supposed to tell you, but I guess with all the shit that happened, he said, ‘Fuck it.’ I told him I would tell you. Told him that no matter if he walked away without telling you, I would,” she explained and then huffed like she was choking on her tears. Her voice shook with each thing she said.
I pulled her closer while she sat on my right leg. Wrapped my arms tighter around her waist, because I could see and hear the pain in her voice. I stared at the little girl’s picture like she was an enigma. Gemma looked exactly like me. Summer’s body shook with her sobs. I didn’t know what I was feeling, if it was anger or nervousness. I didn’t know what to feel. The little girl was ten years old. I had a daughter.
Summer continue to tell me about the conversation she’d had with him. Told me how he’d originally come down here to tell me about Gemma so he could hurt me. “So, yeah . . . David, you have a daughter. A ten-year-old daughter,” Summer said languidly. “Your firstborn.”
I didn’t have to hear her say it to know she was crushed by the thought of someone else having my child. We’d talked about children. Had talked about the gender we wanted our first child to be. Had made plans for our first child. But she could no longer give me my first child, and she was hurting because of it. She’d given me my first real family. I’d been her first love, the first man she’d ever loved. The first man who’d ever loved her. But she wouldn’t bear my first child....
I locked the phone in my hand. Wouldn’t let my daughter go. Wrapped my wife in my arms and held her. I didn’t want her to see the tears in my eyes when I told her, “I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry.”
She nodded, tried to say it was okay, but I knew it wasn’t.
“Shhh,” I told her. “I’m sorry.”
I was apologizing to my wife and to the daughter I hadn’t known I had. I’d missed a whole damn ten years. She had already developed her personality. She was her own person. I’d missed first steps, first words, first days of school, first tears, first everything. I went from being regretful to angry, then back to sorrowful. My emotions were all over the place. The one that stayed with me no matter what was the desire to confront Michael and Sadi. Why would they do that? Why keep her away from me? What was the reason for the madness? I had to know. Needed to know.
Summer sat with me as I dialed Michael’s number. I got his voice mail. I tried every number I had, including his shops in New York, and got the same message each time. He wasn’t there. I called Sadi. Had more luck with her.
“Hello, David,” she said as soon as she answered.
I put the phone on speaker, laid it on the table so Summer could hear. “What’s up? Are you busy? I wanted to talk to you about something.”
“I was, but I can make a few minutes for you. Hold on.”
Summer’s face had turned into a frown. She’d never gotten over Sadi’s assault. She still had a scar over her eye to show for it. We could hear Sadi ordering people out of her office in the background.
“Okay, talk to me,” Sadi said once she got back on. “But first, I need to apologize about what happened—”
“No need,” I said to cut her off. “Charges were dropped. We’ve moved on.”
“Oh, thank God. That’s good to know.”
“Yeah, but, look, I need to ask you something.”
“Ask away.”
I didn’t want to beat around the bush or waste time. “Is Gemma my daughter?”
“Wh-what?” Sadi asked like she couldn’t or didn’t hear me.
“Gemma, is she my daughter?”
There was silence on the other end of the line for a long time, and then . . . she hung up. She hung up on me without a yes or a no. But her nonanswer was the answer I needed. Didn’t matter, though. She didn’t have to answer me.
I looked at Summer, who had stopped crying, but her eyes were still puffy and red. “We have to go to New York,” I told her.
“I know,” was how she responded.
I didn’t understand why God had decided to go this route. I wanted the chapters of my life with Michael and Sadi, all the madness, to be done. I wanted it to end, but I guess the Most High had other plans. I’d never get why Michael and Sadi would keep my daughter away from me. I would never accept what they had done. As Summer stood next to me as I fought for the right to see my daughter, to get to know my daughter, I would have a hard time forgiving the man who used to be my best friend and lover, and his wife.
But seven months later, when Summer and I would be in the delivery room and our son would be born, we’d know what it was to fall in love all over again. As the years passed, we’d remember why we hadn’t given our first son my name. His honey-golden eyes, his dark chocolate skin, and his sly fox–like grin would give us the answer.
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