“Not everyone likes the same thing. But that’s okay. Do you understand now?”
She sighs. “I guess. I’ll never understand how you can like broccoli the same way that I’ll never understand why someone wouldn’t like my daddy.”
Her innocence is so endearing.
“Exactly,” I say, standing and closing the door before heading to my side of the car.
9
Sarah
Church starts at ten, but I asked Linda to bring Cailin around nine, so we can practice and go through how the performance will go. As I sit in the entranceway, talking to my mom, Cailin comes dancing in the door, smiling from ear to ear.
“Good morning, Miss Russo,” she says, swinging around to show me her outfit. “Do you like my new dress?”
I excuse myself from my mom and crouch down to her level. “Look how pretty you are. Did you pick it out yourself?”
She jumps up in excitement. “I did! Linda wanted me to get this boring yellow one, but this one has these ruffles, and when I twirl around, it looks so much better!”
I glance up to Linda, who’s shaking her head and laughing. “She keeps me on my toes; that’s for sure.”
I reach out my hand to shake Linda’s. “I can only imagine. Do you have children of your own?”
She covers my hand with her other one. “Oh, no, dear. The Lord had other plans for me. That’s what led me to Adam, and now, I get to help raise this little angel.” She lets me go as she stares down at Cailin with the love of a grandma even though I know she’s not.
“Ready?” I say, holding my palm out for Cailin to grab.
“I’m so excited,” she says as she skips to me.
I lead her to the open room and down the aisles to the front of the church.
Linda sits three rows back as Cailin sits next to me on the piano bench.
When my fingers press down on the first notes, Cailin doesn’t hold back as she belts out the lyrics. Just like before, her ability to sing in tune blows me away. Each word is sung with the correct inflection, and she pauses at the right points with no direction.
“You’ve been practicing even more, haven’t you?” I place my hands in my lap and turn to her in awe when we’re finished.
She smiles brightly. “My dad worked with me last night on it. We sang it over and over until we thought it was perfect.”
The idea of Adam Jacobson singing “Jesus Loves Me” over the phone with a little girl is something I’d never dream of him doing.
How is the guy I thought was the ultimate bad boy turning out to be anything but?
“That’s very nice of him. Did you have to teach him the words?”
“I did. Can you believe he didn’t know any words to this song? Thankfully, he caught on quick. I kept telling him I needed to practice, not teach him.”
A sharp laugh escapes my lips. I love how this little girl is not afraid to tell him how it is. “Well, I’m glad he caught on. I’d say he has practice in doing so.”
“He kept reminding me how, normally, he writes the lyrics, so there’s no learning involved. I told him he was silly. Even though he wrote them, he still had to memorize them.” She gives the best duh expression, and I have a hard time keeping my smile hidden.
When our time arrives during the service, my father announces that we have a special performance before Cailin and I walk to the stage, hand in hand.
I turn to see if she’s nervous, but the smile spread wide and shoulders held high prove she’s more than ready. I place my fingers on the keys, and she sings right on cue.
The sudden hush over the crowd surprises even me. I glance up from the piano to see everyone’s attention on us. My mom’s hand covers her mouth, and my sister’s eyes are open wide as she listens to the singing little girl, who is only a year older than her daughter.
This is the first time we’ve had a child sing other than the children’s Christmas pageant, and when we finish, the congregation gives her a standing ovation. Warmth radiates throughout my body, and I cover my mouth to hide the joyous laughter wanting to release from my lips.
For everyone else to see and recognize the talent I saw last week, it makes me just as proud as if she were my own.
Her face glows when she glances up at me, stunned at the reaction. When my eyes meet with Linda, I see the tears flowing freely just as one slips from mine as well.
We take our seat back in the pews, and multiple people turn to congratulate Cailin on how well she did.
She sits, curled up in my side for the rest of the service. Her being here feels so natural, and—I’m not going to lie—I love having her next to me.
When my dad excuses us, more people approach Cailin with praise. She modestly accepts it, making sure to thank every person and smile sweetly doing so.
Linda is holding up her phone and motioning for us to go to the side of the stage. I take Cailin’s hand and head to Linda, only to see Adam staring back at me on FaceTime.
Instantly, my breath hitches.
Why am I doing this?
I should be staying away from him, yet here I am, singing with his daughter and having her curled up by my side.
Why aren’t I thinking things through better? She’s the one child I should be keeping my distance from, yet I keep inviting her in closer.
Way too many memories have come boiling up ever since I learned he was her dad. A trip down that lane is not one I ever want to take.
Cailin, of course, runs to him. “Daddy, did you see me?”
She yanks the phone from Linda and holds it so she can see him more clearly.
“Sugarplum, you were amazing!”
“Thank you, Daddy, and Miss Russo too!”
She points the camera my way, catching me off guard.
I wave, and Adam smirks, slightly raising his eyebrows as he says, “How could I miss Miss Russo?”
Heat creeps its way up my body, and I pray my face isn’t turning bright red.
Linda catches my attention as a shit-eating grin covers her face that makes me flush even more.
Cailin turns the phone back to where it’s facing her and begins to tell her dad every part of her performance, including the applause at the end. If Adam was on FaceTime during the song, then he already knows all of this, but he sits silently, taking in everything that Cailin says like it’s the most important thing he’s ever been told and he doesn’t want to miss one single word.
Linda steps closer to me, whispering, “It’s moments like this that make everything worth it.”
I nod, tilting my head to the side in awe of the two of them. Seeing them together like this melts my heart and fades my worries away about letting her in.
10
Sarah
Cailin and I walk to the car after school. The photographers gave up after a week of not seeing her, but we don’t want to take any chances.
There’s still a buzz around the town that a rock star is moving here, but since he’s not arrived yet, everyone is guessing as much as I am about how this is all going to work out.
My father brought the photos up to me, saying how sad it was that I got mixed up in Adam’s madness, only to be plastered on the internet like that. He didn’t see how amazing it was that Adam had changed his entire schedule to dance one song with his daughter. All he saw was that Adam wasn’t there to be with her every day like a parent should be.
I guess it’s all about perspective, but to my father, he’ll always be right.
As I try to focus on the now and what’s to come, I’ve enjoyed my time with Cailin these past few days. Since I don’t allow her to sing in class, we’ve made our car rides home full of singing. The funniest songs are those by Devil’s Breed. She tries really hard to sing like her dad, and when there is a cuss word in the lyrics, she skips it but keeps up the tempo exactly the same as if it were still there.
When we pull up to my place, Linda’s not there, so we head up to my apartment where I offer Cailin a snack.
As we eat o
ur cookies dipped in milk, there’s a knock on the door. I swing it open, holding up my sugary goodness to Linda, showing the milk running down it, almost to my fingers, saying, “It’s cookie ti—”
My mind can’t complete the rest of the sentence when I see Adam standing in front of me instead of Linda. His tall frame fills my entranceway, but his eyes feel like I can see right through them.
“Daddy!” Cailin screams, running straight for him, spilling her milk all over my counter.
“Sugarplum,” he says as he swings her around in a tight embrace.
His eyes close, and his face glows with pure happiness.
When they pull back, she places her hand on his face, saying, “My Chestnut.” They hug again. “I thought you weren’t coming home until tomorrow.”
“I wanted to surprise you.”
“That’s not very nice, Daddy. I wanted to wear my new dress for you, so I’d look my best.”
Adam and I both laugh. He runs his hand down her hair. “You’re gorgeous in any outfit.”
She rolls her eyes and hits him in the chest. “You have to say that; you’re my dad.”
He chuckles under his breath as he puts her down and notices the spilled milk. “Let me help you clean that up.”
He enters my small apartment, and I finally snap out of my shock.
“No worries. I can get it.” I run to the kitchen and grab some paper towels.
Adam takes them from me and starts to mop up the mess. “I don’t mind,” he says, looking straight at me.
I rip off another paper towel and wipe the floor. When Adam leans down, placing his hand over mine, I freeze.
“Please, let me get it. You’ve done so much for my daughter; let me do something for you.”
He’s staring directly at me, and I have to think real hard to keep my body from swooning at his touch.
My mind needs to stop going there.
I can’t get my mouth to function, so I slide my fingers from under his and nod before standing and getting Cailin more milk.
“Can I get you a cookie and milk too?” I ask.
I guess I’m used to offering kids stuff like this, so of course, this is my go-to.
“I’d love one.” He pulls out a chair from my kitchen table as I get him a cup and pour some milk.
Cailin crawls up on his lap without a second thought.
“When did you get back?” Cailin asks through a mouthful of cookie.
He steals a bite of her cookie before answering, “A few hours ago. We left early this morning. You should have seen Max and Jack; they were not okay.” Adam laughs at the memory but quiets abruptly when Cailin puts her hands on her hips.
“Daddy, did you make them get up again? You know how that went last time.”
Adam sits up straight, acting just as serious. “Why, yes, I did. They knew I wanted to get home. That was their decision to stay up, partying like that.”
She gives him a side-eye, and Adam engulfs her in his arms, laughing.
“I missed you, kid. It’s good to be home.”
She sharply turns to him, pursing her lips together.
“Oh. Sorry. I missed you, Sugarplum.”
She sternly nods her head one time. “That’s better.”
I turn to start rinsing the dishes in my sink, feeling awkward, sitting in my own kitchen, watching these two interact so personally.
My dad was always around, but I never curled up in his lap or questioned something he did. I was raised that kids were seen, not heard and that there was a time and place for play, and it was not around him—ever.
Adam seems to welcome the crumbs on his lap and milk spilled on the floor.
“Hey, Sarah,” Adam says, making me drop the cup I was washing in the sink.
I pick it up, trying to play it off. “Yeah?”
“You don’t have to stay over there. We are in your house and all.” He raises his eyebrows to me. “As long as we aren’t invading your space, I’d love to hear what’s going on with Cailin’s schoolwork.”
I wipe my hands and join them.
Cailin hands me a cookie. “Do you want another one?”
I swipe it from her and take a bite. “Why, thank you,” I say, trying to act as normal as possible and not freak out that I’m sitting at the same table—in my house—as Adam Jacobson.
“Okay, Sugarplum, I want to hear how you’re doing from you, and then I’ll see if she has the same story.”
I cover my mouth as a laugh escapes my lips. “I always tell my parents, I’ll only believe half of what I hear about you as long as you only believe half of what you hear about me.”
Adam turns to face me. “Is it that common for kids to make up tales?”
I sway my head from side to side. “Kids like to embellish a little.”
He pulls her closer to him. “What’s your favorite part of class?”
She purses her lips together, tapping her finger to her mouth in thought. “I like cutting things, and I’m getting real good at it.”
“You are?” he says, full of interest.
“She is. I used her work as the example the other day,” I interject.
“Look at that, my daughter setting the bar for the rest of the class.” The pride beaming from his face is palpable.
“And she’s one of the best readers in the class.” I can’t help myself; seeing him so amazed at his little girl is beautiful to witness. If I have to tell him every little thing she’s good at to have this moment continue, I will.
Cailin jumps off of Adam’s lap and runs to her backpack. She pulls out a four-page printed book I sent home to practice on and holds it up for Adam.
“I’ll show you!” She hops back on his lap and opens the book. With her tiny tongue peeking out of her mouth, she diligently studies the words before starting to read them.
Adam turns to me in shock and then awe. His face spreads in the biggest smile as she turns the page and continues the short story about a rabbit trying to steal a carrot.
When she closes the book and beams back at Adam, he wraps his arms around her. “That was amazing! I can’t believe how smart you are.”
If I’m not mistaken, he’s blinking back tears but lets out a bark of a laugh when she says, “Duh, Dad. Of course I’m smart!”
“Of course you are. I never doubted it for a second.” He pats her back and points his head toward the door. “You ready to get going? I’m sure we’ve taken up enough of Miss Russo’s”—he stops and glances at me for a brief second—“Sarah’s time.”
“It’s no problem at all.” I shrug, trying to play it off.
“Do you live here all alone?” Adam asks, doing a quick once-over of my place.
“Sure do. It’s been fun, having someone here to come home with me after school.”
He lifts Cailin to his side and stands up. “We can’t thank you enough for your help, especially for teaching her that song. I’d love to come sometime if you guys are going to do it again.”
Pure panic runs through my veins as I think of what to say. How could I not realize that he would want to see her perform in person? That will not work.
“Oh, um, yeah. We’ll have to set up another time soon. I won’t be there the next few weeks. I’m working with the teens on a special presentation they’re doing,” I lie and hate myself for it.
Cailin’s bottom lip sticks out in a pout. “But I wanted to sing again.”
I place my hand on her back. “You will. Just not right away. Let me finish this project, and we’ll set up another time.” More lies. I’m going to hell for sure.
I hurt for her. She just wants to show off to her dad, but I don’t have the heart to tell her that it will never happen—at least, not there.
I’m afraid of what my dad would do if Adam were to step foot in his church. I feel bad about lying, but knowing my father, I’m saving Adam and Cailin from a disaster that is bound to happen.
I hate that my dad is so judgmental. Church should be open to every person wh
o wants to worship, no matter how they dress or what they look like. Unfortunately, he’s as old school as they come, and with what happened in the past, it’s not a risk I’m willing to take.
They head toward the exit. Adam grabs Cailin’s backpack as I open the door. “Will you be dropping her off tomorrow, or should I expect Linda?” I ask for more selfish reasons than not. There’ve been a few times I’ve answered the door mid-bite or while brushing my teeth, so I’ll have to be prepared if Adam will be at my place early tomorrow.
Adam stops and faces me, mere inches away. His eyes sparkle brightly in the afternoon sun peeking through my doorway. I fight hard not to bite my lip or show him how his simple glance makes my heart pound and my palms sweat.
“If it’s okay, I’ll be dropping her off and picking her up from now on, but we’d love to keep the same arrangement, at least for a little while longer, of us meeting here still. I want people to get used to having me here before I show up at the school every day.”
My stomach jumps into my throat. Every day. He’ll be here every day.
How can I try to avoid him if he’s here everyday?
I know my face is bright red, and the slight tug to his lips shows me he notices.
I can’t get out the words, so I raise my eyebrows and nod my head, forcing a smile on my face.
“Bye, Miss Russo!” Cailin yells—thank God!
“Yes, bye, Sarah. See you tomorrow.”
The way he says tomorrow offers more hope than I wish to admit. I need to remember he’s from a world I don’t want any part of. I cannot go back there.
Or can I?
Lord help me …
11
Sarah
I couldn’t sleep a wink last night, and to make matters worse, I climbed down the rabbit hole again and was up at two in the morning, watching every video I could find on Adam.
I watched music videos and interviews, and I even read his own posts on social media. Now that I’ve seen the man in person, it’s hard to imagine the lunatic jumping off the speakers into a crowd, only to be carried through the venue, is the same guy who teared up at the sound of his daughter reading.
Our Song Page 7