by Annie Stone
I smile at her, hoping to show her how much I love her. I don’t want to sound full of myself, but she has good genes from her father. And, obviously, a great mom…
I’ve never missed Mac more than in this moment.
Camille looks kind of humbled witnessing this epic moment between me and my daughter. She stands and smiles before she says, “See you tomorrow,” and leaves the room.
I look at Hazel, thinking about how remarkable Mac is. She’s put my needs above her own. It can’t have been easy for her to be excluded from these first moments of bonding between Hazel and me. And still, she’s doing this for me. I don’t really know, but I think maybe she’s trying to show me that she wants me in our daughter’s life. The thought makes me immensely grateful.
“Do you want me to find out if you could be transferred to San Diego?” Carey asks.
I nod immediately. “Yes.”
“Inpatient or outpatient?”
Even though I want to say outpatient so, so much, I know we shouldn’t rush things. We need to take it slow, take our time to get to know each other again. All of us. I can’t just burst into Mac and Hazel’s life. I don’t even know whether Mac has enough room for me. I don’t know anything about her, I realize. And that’s all my own fault…
“Inpatient.”
Nodding, Carey stands up and moves toward the door, and I feel panic build inside me. Suddenly, the little girl in my arms feels immensely fragile.
“Carey, please don’t—”
He gives me a reassuring smile. “It’s going great. I’ll only be gone a second.”
And then I’m alone with my daughter for the very first time.
I wonder what I’m supposed to do if she falls off my lap or runs away—I wouldn’t be able to catch her. Fuck, I’m completely helpless! And I’ll be helpless forever if I don’t learn to walk with this fucking prosthetic.
“Daddy?”
“Yes…?” What should I call her? Hazel? Or honey? Sugar? I have no idea. God, I’m not equipped to be a dad at all. I’m bumbling through this worse than my deployment to Afghanistan. Seriously.
How can you be so fascinated with someone and at the same time so scared of them? What if she doesn’t like me? Or worse, what if she likes Carey better than me? And what’s she allowed to do? What isn’t she allowed to do? Can I be strict with her, or do I have to worry that she won’t love me if I am?
My pulse is speeding up. I can feel sweat forming on my upper lip.
God. She’s just a little kid, and you’re a fucking Marine, I tell myself. But the truth of the matter is, she’s my little kid. I don’t care what other people think about me, but I couldn’t stand it if Hazel didn’t like me.
“Draw tree,” she says and holds out a purple marker to me.
“Purple? Not green?” I ask.
She vehemently shakes her head. Okay then. Purple it is.
I’m not a great artist, but I think I can manage a tree. I end up drawing a somewhat rudimentary structure—a trunk consisting of two lines with a fluffy cloud for a crown.
“Draw dod.” She giggles.
I can’t quite understand her. “Draw what?”
She giggles some more. “Dod!” she repeats. “Woof! Woof!”
Damn girl, what’s next? The Sistine Chapel? I do my best, bandaged wrists and all, to draw a purple dog. It looks more like a pig, but she claps her hands delightedly.
“Horsey!”
I’ve got it bad. She could say, “Jump,” and I’d say, “How high?”
I draw a horse, in green this time, because apparently purple horses don’t exist, according to Hazel. I watch her, the whole time. Maybe that’s why my drawings are so poor. No, cut that. I’m no Da Vinci even when I’m not distracted. I see so much of Mac in her, but so much of myself, too. She really is the spitting image of me. My perfect little girl.
I can’t describe the way I feel about her. I’m so filled with happiness… I never imagined I’d have a daughter. With the woman of my dreams, no less. I cannot screw this up. I need to take things slow. I need to gain Mac’s trust so she doesn’t take Hazel away from me.
“Birdy!” Hazel cries next. I don’t know much about kids, but she’s articulating her words pretty clearly, well, anything but k sounds. You can usually tell what she’s trying to say. Except when she’s drawing, then she just babbles away, and I don’t understand a word. Maybe Mac can decipher it, but to me these are just sounds devoid of meaning.
I draw green birdies on the top part of the paper. Actually, they’re just Ms. But she’s delighted. When I’m done, she turns around and looks at me. She reaches up, and even though I don’t know what she wants, I move toward her. She sticks her little fingers through my beard. Judging by the sound of her cute giggle, she seems to like it.
“Ree?”
Oh my God! What does she want? Ree? What’s Ree? Has she said this before?
“What’s Ree?”
She points at the green scribble in the drawing she did for me earlier. “Ree.”
Ree? I’m pretty sure those scribbles were people. Ree? Car-ree? Yes, of course! She can’t pronounce his name yet.
“Carey will be back in a second,” I say quietly, jealousy eating me up inside. My daughter shouldn’t be asking for her uncle while she’s sitting in her daddy’s lap. I know I’m being utterly ridiculous, but still.
“Tay.”
I hope she means okay. Otherwise, I’m screwed. “Hazel…”
She gives me a curious look.
“What does Mommy call you?”
“Hunny.”
“Shall I call you honey, too?” I ask. She shrugs. “Then what should I call you?”
“Haze.”
I nod seriously. “What does uncle Carey call you?”
She looks at me with big eyes. I can tell she understood the question but doesn’t know the answer.
“Doesn’t he have a nickname for you?”
She nods. Suddenly, her eyes settle on a point across my shoulder, and she smiles.
“Yes, he does. Right, Hazeline?”
I turn around to see Carey, who quickly lowers his hands. Was he giving me bunny ears?
“Hazeline?” I repeat.
He laughs. “I come up with something different every week. Hazeline, Haze, Hazy, stinker…”
Her smile is so broad, her entire face is beaming. “Ree!”
He ruffles her hair.
“Daddy draw too!” she squeals, pushing the paper across the table as proof.
Carey gives it a critical look and points at the dog. “What’s that?”
“It’s a dog,” I say defensively.
Carey nods slowly. “I’m glad I asked. I thought it was a kangaroo.”
Hazel laughs uproariously. “No, dod!”
“I’d like to see you try to draw something for the first time in a hundred years,” I mumble.
Carey laughs and picks up a marker. “Want me to draw a unicorn?”
Hazel nods enthusiastically. And the bastard can actually draw a fucking unicorn! He’s such a pest!
“There you go, Hazeline. What should we call it?”
“Princess,” she proclaims.
Carey writes Princess next to the unicorn and pushes the paper back to Hazel. “There you go. A unicorn named Princess for my little princess.” If he started vomiting a rainbow I wouldn’t be surprised.
“Show-off!” I grumble.
He grins. “Hey, never be afraid to shine, right?”
Hazel lovingly looks at the unicorn. “Ree drew unicawn.”
“So? Any news?” I ask Carey.
“They won’t discharge you until after the observation period.” He gives me an angry look. I nod, because I know what he’s trying to say.
I run my hand across my face. “It was just despair.”
“Fuck, Hunter!” Carey hisses.
“Fut! Fut! Fut!”
“You always had me.”
“I know, bro. But…I couldn’t see the light an
ymore. Everything was black.”
He looks at me firmly. “Never do that again.”
“I won’t.”
“I mean it! I will not allow you to put Mac and Hazel through that. If you are not a hundred percent sure that you’re going to spare them that, let them go.”
I look at the curly brown hair hanging over a sheet of paper.
“War changes people,” I say. “I’m not the same guy I used to be anymore.”
“You’re not supposed to be the same guy,” Carey says gently. “You just need to be the guy the two of them need.”
At that moment, Hazel turns toward us again, beaming. She squeezes me, and I wrap my arms around her like it’s a reflex, stroking her cheek.
“I can’t promise I’m going to spare them,” I say quietly, my eyes wandering back to Carey. “But I swear I’m going to try.”
He nods slowly. “That’s good enough for now.” He looks at Hazel, his serious face dissipating. “You hungry, kiddo?”
She shakes her head. “Tirsty.”
Carey gets a bottle of water and a mug from a bag I hadn’t even noticed and pours her some water. She grabs the mug with both hands and drinks greedily. Water runs down the corners of her mouth, dripping onto her shirt and my pants, but Carey doesn’t move to clean her up. It seems to be their way of raising her—giving her room to make mistakes and get dirty. God, I really need to talk to Mac. I know I don’t have a say in how she’s raised at this point, but I at least want to know how to act.
Hazel puts down the mug and rubs the wet spots on her shirt and my pants with her hand. She looks at me kind of shyly.
“It’s okay, Haze,” I say.
She smiles, and I may be repeating myself, but I have never seen anything more beautiful. She is just perfect.
“How was your therapy session?” Carey asks me.
“Man, I wish I didn’t need it. But it was all right, I guess.”
“Have you done any walking yet?”
“At the bar, yes. But I’ve been down much longer than I should have been.”
“If anybody can do it, it’s you, man.”
I cock my head. “It’s just that…” I sigh.
“What?” he asks.
“What am I going to do with my life now? I’ve only ever been a soldier. I’m useless.”
“No, you’re not,” he says, shaking his head. “I was going to save this for later, but…” He gets some papers out of his bag. “I’ve done some research for you. The navy would finance a law degree for you if you joined the J.A.G. Corps.”
He pushes a leaflet across the table. I knew J.A.G. was in charge of the Navy and the Marines, but I never considered it a career option before.
“You could stay with the Marines and keep serving your country. That’s what you want, right?”
I nod. It’s not such a bad idea, actually, now that I think about it. At least it’s worth thinking about.
“It doesn’t have to be law, either,” Carey says. “There are other subjects you can study. I just thought law might be your thing.”
“Thanks, man.” I stroke Hazel’s head. “For everything.”
He just nods.
At some point, they have to leave, and it’s hard for me to let them go. Hazel especially, but my brother, too. He hasn’t been part of my life for much too long. I’m such an idiot!
After they leave, I ask for writing supplies. I have no other way of communicating with Mac, so I have to write like it’s the nineteenth century. The nurse brings me paper and a dull pencil. Like I’d try to off myself with a pencil.
For a second, I don’t know what to write, but then words start pouring out of me.
Mac,
I don’t know how to thank you for this wonderful gift. Hazel is perfect. Thank you. From the bottom of my heart. I hope you’ll keep letting her come see me, but I know I’m in no position to make demands. Still, I beg you not to take her away from me after you’ve just brought her into my life.
Mac… We have so much to talk about. Fuck, I have so much to say. I’m sorry. About everything. If I had known… It would have changed everything for me. I wish you hadn’t listened to me and just hammered the truth into my brain, but I can’t blame anybody for it but myself. I wish I could turn back time…
When I get to San Diego, we’ll talk. Just you and me. And we’ll tell each other all the bad things we’ve been locking up inside ourselves since that night. I was so angry. And I’m sure you were, too. And then on top of that you were pregnant…
I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. I’m sorry you had to go through all of that on your own. I’m glad at least Carey was there for you. He told me you documented everything for me. Mac, I don’t know what to say. I don’t deserve your generosity. I hope we can get through this.
If it’s okay with you, I’d like to be part of Hazel’s life. I hope you want that, too. I can’t imagine not having her in my life.
I pause. Should I write that I feel the same way about her? That I don’t want her to disappear from my life now that she’s finally back? No. Take things slow, I remind myself. I’ll start with showing her my feelings for Hazel and take things slow with Mac. Because it’s true what Carey said. I’m not the same guy I was at eighteen. Not even the same guy I was at twenty-one. I’ve been deployed to Afghanistan twice since then, and that fucking country and its fucking war can force any man to his knees.
Clearing those thoughts from my head, I write on.
Today was the best day of my life because she drew a picture for me and I was able to listen to her babbling. When Carey left the two of us alone, I was so scared I might do something wrong… But she is amazing. Which is mostly due to the fact that you’ve done an amazing job. Thank you for this wonderful gift.
I hope so desperately that Mac will continue to let me see Hazel, but I think she will. She’s not a bad person. If she didn’t want me in her life, she may never have told me Hazel was mine, but she definitely wouldn’t have paraded her around in front of my nose only to snatch her away again. Not my Mac.
Of course, I know that as a biological father, I also have rights. But I can’t imagine suing my way into her life. I would never do that to Mac. Rubbing my eyes, I finish the letter.
We need to talk, Mac. We really do. As soon as I finish therapy, I’ll get transferred to a rehab center in San Diego, and then… God, Mac. There’s so much to say. So much that a ridiculous letter isn’t even a worthy beginning. Fuck. I’ve missed you.
H.
I can’t wait for the next day to start. I fly through my physio and therapy sessions. Dr. Wilson says it was a joy to see me with Hazel, and that it’s remarkable to see such a strong bond between us already. She says that can only be because Hazel was told about me again and again. Maybe because she’s seen pictures of me, too.
I feel content. Mac wouldn’t have done all that if she didn’t want me in Hazel’s life. She wants me. Maybe just in my capacity as Hazel’s dad…but I hope it’s more than that.
And then it’s morning and Carey and Hazel are back. I melt the moment I see her smiling face.
10
Mackenzie
It’s weird leaving Carey and Hazel to the hospital and spending the rest of the afternoon on my own. I want to be there with them. I want to watch father and daughter become acquainted. God, I want to be there so badly! It breaks my heart.
When Carey told me about yesterday, how Hunter and Hazel were already the best of friends, I started sobbing. That was exactly the reaction I’d been hoping for from Hunter. I want him to want her!
And Hazel talked about her daddy all night, like he’s some kind of superhero or saved Middle-earth or something. I’m so glad she likes him. I’ve told her about him again and again, showing her pictures in the hope that she wouldn’t be shy with him when she finally met him. And it seems to have worked. She’s not talking about him like she talks about Carey just yet, but she’s definitely not as shy with him as she is with Shane or Jean.
<
br /> I’m so happy—and at the same time so devastated because I can’t be there with them.
Instead, I go shopping. I hate shopping. But that’s how bored I am. I buy a few new outfits for Hazel, even though she won’t wear just anything I pick up for her. She already has her own sense of style. I was not emotionally prepared for that. I thought kids wouldn’t start picking out their own clothes until later. But I’ve become pretty good at guessing what she likes.
And then, once I’ve scoured the kids’ clothes… Yes, I admit it. I am one of those women. I buy clothes for Hunter. But only because he’s going to need some clothes as a civilian, and I don’t know if he owns anything besides uniforms and sweatpants. I don’t really know his size, but I think I have an idea because—I’m embarrassed to admit—I pick out Carey’s clothes for him, too. There, I said it.
They’re similar sizes. Hunter’s a little wider, but it’s definitely a good starting point.
I spend way too much money, but hey, it’s Carey’s… Oops. And then I pick up some sexy underwear, because you never know. But I pay for that with my own money.
When I get a call from Carey to pick them up, I drive over there way too fast.
“Mommy!” Hazel calls, tugging Carey across the parking lot as soon as I park and open the car door.
“Hazel baby,” I say, taking her into my arms. “I missed you!”
“Daddy draw!” she says, showing me a picture. Hmmm. Why exactly does she sound so proud? He’s not really a great artist…
“Wow, it’s great,” I lie. “What else did you do?”
She smiles shyly, and I look at Carey. He just smiles back and shrugs. Obviously, he left father and daughter alone for a while again today.
“Tuddle,” Hazel says, sounding all blissed out.
I run my hand over her head. “Your daddy’s good at cuddling, huh?”
She nods. “Daddy nice.” I nod before she asks timidly: “Daddy love Haze?”
“He loves you loads, Hazel,” I promise her.
She looks at Carey, who nods. “Hunter is very happy to be your dad,” he confirms.