Rhett

“I want to find a mom for Joa,” Locke says. We’re seated on a park bench just outside my neighborhood in Philly. Our mom is pushing her in the baby swings and our dad is taking pictures.

They’ve been forcing these “family days” on me lately because they’re convinced I’m depressed or there’s something wrong with me, but I guess I don’t mind.

It takes my mind off things for a while.

“How could anyone not want to be her mom?” Locke asks. “I mean, look at her. She’s fucking perfect.”

I nod. “Yeah.”

“Alexi’s really missing out,” he says. “It’s really sad.”

I think about the day that’ll come, many years from now, when Locke has to sit Joa down and tell her about her mother, who goes by the stage name Alexi Elektra. I can only hope by then she’ll have a mom who loves her so hard it cushions the blow. And then I hope she’ll understand that everything happened exactly the way it should.

She changed Locke’s life for the better.

She’s kind of changed all our lives.

I see the way my parents fawn over her, the way she lights the room and makes everything else seem insignificant. It isn’t easy being a parent, at least not from what I’ve observed with Locke. Maybe our parents were a little overboard in the overprotective area when we were growing up, but I kind of get it now.

Sometimes you love something so much, you want to protect it with everything you have. They didn’t have much back then except curfews and jurisdiction over our comings and goings.

But all of this makes me think of Ayla ... and I realize now what I’ve done. My initial reaction when I’m feeling powerless is to push her away. If I can’t control the direction of the relationship, I shut down.

Locke waves at Joa from across the park, and she waves back, kicking her legs like she’s ridiculously excited to see her father all over again.

Crazy how something so small knows how to love, and she doesn’t even talk yet.

“Hey, Locke. You remember Ayla, right?” I ask. I’ve still yet to mention anything to him about our impromptu meet ups.

He squints. “Uh, yeah. Why?”

“Ran into her recently. She wrote a book about me.”

“No shit?”

I nod, stretching my arm across the back of the bench and crossing my legs wide. “I kind of went off on her.”

Locke whips his gaze in my direction. “What? Why? You should be honored she wrote you into a book. That’s like a rock star writing a song about you.”

“I don’t fucking know.” I exhale. “I just ... I felt like I lost all control, like she did this thing, this big thing, without my permission, and I just ... lost it.”

“If you fucked her, she doesn’t need your permission to write about you,” he says. “Just ask Alanis Morrissett and Dave Coulier. They oughta know.”

“You’re a moron.”

“Have you read the book?”

“Some of it.” I scratch at my temple, watching my dad take Joa down the kiddie slide.

“Is it good?” he asks.

“That’s irrelevant,” I say. I didn’t realize I’d walked out with her copy in my hand until I was halfway across town, headed back to my hotel. Now the book rests on my nightstand at home. I can’t bring myself to finish it just yet, but I will. Truth be told, I want to know what happens in her version of our story. “Anyway, I’m going to call her tonight. I owe her an apology. I overreacted.”

Hopefully I can undo two days’ worth of radio silence with a single phone call and heartfelt regrets.

God, I’m an asshole.

I really am a prick.

Locke thumbs through his phone, and I ask what he’s doing.

“Deleting a bunch of women’s numbers,” he says.

“No shit?”

“I’m serious. I want to start dating. I want to find the one,” he says, turning to me. “And don’t fucking make fun of me either. I’m turning over a new leaf for my daughter. I want her to have everything she could ever possibly need, starting with a mom. And a dad who loves her mom like crazy.”

“Isn’t that sweet,” I say with a chuckle.

“Maybe you should think about doing the same?”

“Yeah,” I say. “Maybe I should.”

“I don’t care what I said way back when,” Locke says. “I take it all back. It sucks to be alone. Love is where it’s at. That’s the secret to happiness.”