by J. L. Beck
“You’ll always be daddy’s little girl… You know that right.” I whispered to her, enjoying the feel of her in my arms. I was a daddy, a husband, and a lumberman. My heart belonged was filled with so much joy and love that it was almost drowning me.
“No she’ll always be daddy’s little lumber girl, you know not lumberjack because she’s not a boy.” Lola walked into the kitchen and came back a second later with some freshly baked muffins, muffins that reminded me of my grandmother.
“You think she would be proud?” I asked Lola.
“I think she would be more than proud Jackson. I think she would be thrilled, and so damn proud of all that you have done.” As we sat on the couch listening to the crickets chirp outside I let the beauty of our simple life sink in.
I had the girl. I had the baby. I had the dream job.
What more could a man possibly ask for?