An odd sense of calm transforms me. “I’ll be right out.” They nod and disappear. Turning my head back to Hannah I offer a smile. Nothing big or fake. I don’t see the point in treating children as idiots. “So you know I’m your father?”

She nods.

“Do you know what that word means?”

“Some of my friends have fathers.”

My eyes close as pain stabs me. I glance up at Claire who explains with compassion, “She’s just started Kindergarten.”

“I see.” So she’s felt the loss of not having me there when she saw other children with their dads. I’m sure she asked Tanny about it. What story was told to her?

I have only myself to blame for this. I can imagine what I would have said back then if Tanny had come to me. It wouldn’t have been pretty.

I clear my throat and take the leap. “Hannah, would you like to come live with me?”

Unsure, she looks up at her grandma who squeezes her hand. “I have to go back to the hospital, honey. You can trust him. Justin is a good man.”

Inwardly I cringe but keep my face unreadable as innocent eyes come to rest on me again.

I offer her my hand, palm out between us. “Hannah, I am truly sorry we’re only meeting today, for the first time. But I want to be there for you now, if you’ll let me.”

She lays miniature fingers onto my hand. “Thank you.” Lifting her into my arms, I rest her on my hip to tell Claire. “Follow me, please.”

As we slowly walk out of the green room I motion to a staffer. “Do you have any wheelchairs here?”

“We do.”

“Bring her one immediately.” Guiding Claire to the side of the stage I explain, “Mrs. Walters, you can watch from here.”

Her eyes dart to her granddaughter, wondering if I’m going to set her down. I’m not.

Senator Rothdale is talking to staffers, but his daughter is staring at me with parted lips. From her expression I know Jaimie’s thinking I’m pulling a stunt to address our treatment of the elderly and maybe even education for our children, that these two are here for a campaign strategy. She has no idea what’s really going on.

I nod to her, and turn away.

The announcer’s voice introduces me and I step out to applause, little Hannah on my hip. Kids are heavier than they look. I nod to the large crowd. At the podium I lean into the mic, our faces lit up by a spotlight as cameras flash and phones are held up by dozens of hands, recording video of today’s important event.

“Hello Savannah!” They all cheer. I wait for them to settle, my mind racing. “This speech is completely unplanned and unprepared so forgive me if it comes out less than perfectly. But I’ll be as clear as I can, because I’ve been telling you for months that I have your best interests at heart and that I want to be your Senator. That I want to create changes aligned with our current needs, and how it is I plan to do that. I’ve also said that family values are very much a part of my vision, as they should be.” Pausing I scan unfamiliar faces, the silence deafening as they wait for me to say more. “I have also told you I am like you. And I am. I am as flawed as every man is. Some of you may know from the media that I’m a slut.” The crowd starts tittering before bigger laughter sets in.

Some are shocked and unimpressed.

But they aren’t here for me anyway.

They’re here for Rothdale.

“Yes, it’s funny,” I smile. “But I’m not kidding. I owe you the truth. And I owe her the truth.”

I look into Hannah’s eyes. She has no idea what to make of this, but I’m hoping she’ll remember it, years from now.

Into the mic I explain, “I’ve just met this beautiful young lady today. Her mother was taken from her two night’s ago in an accident.”

The crowd reacts.

I hold up my hand to quiet them.

“Those videos you’re recording on your phones, please post them everywhere you can so that the truth will be out there and the media can’t twist it. This beauty is my daughter.”

Gasps wave throughout the auditorium.

The whispers begin.

Ignoring them I continue, “We never had a chance to meet because I was a fucking asshole and didn’t deserve her.”

A hell of a lot more whispers spread out.

To my daughter I apologize, “I’m sorry, Hannah, but your daddy swears.” I direct the rest into the microphone, “I want everyone to hear it from me that it was my fault her mother didn’t tell me. She knew I wasn’t ready, and that I’d harshly judge her, which would have been a grave error. It is a symptom of sickness in our society that when we should be coming together, communicating in ways we’ve either forgotten how to or have never known how to, we stay quiet. We hide from responsibility. I know there are a lot of fatherless children out there because of this. And it needs to stop. It’s stopping with me today. I’ve been asking you to put your trust in me. Well that’s all good and fine to ask for something. But I need to deserve that trust. And if I haven’t shown that I deserve it in my personal relationships with good women like Tanny Walters – the mother of my child – then I don’t deserve it from you yet. I have to apologize, and hope that you will be there for me when the next election comes around.” People’s eyes widen as they realize what I’m doing. “I’m withdrawing my name from the Senatorial race in order to spend time with my daughter.”

The audience goes nuts.

Kissing her soft hair I whisper, “Maybe you don’t know what just happened, but know this. I’m going to make up the last five years to you even if it takes me a lifetime to do it.”

As I walk off the stage with insanity and chaos behind me, Senator Rothdale and I meet eyes. He’s as dumbfounded as everyone else is, but like my father he’s a seasoned politician. He nods with grace, his posture perfect.

“Senator,” I say, conceding the loss with a respectful nod.

“Mr. Cocker,” the Senator returns, his voice grave.

My eyes lock with Jaimie’s next. She’s slowly shaking her head like she can’t believe it. The urge to go to her is so strong I can’t stop my legs. She and I stare at each other a moment before her eyes flit to Hannah’s quiet face, then back to me. “You’ve done a good job, Ms. Rothdale. He would have won anyway.”

“Justin…” she whispers, stunned.

“Excuse me.” I turn to look for Claire Walters. Hannah sees her sitting nearby in a nondescript wheelchair and reaches for her, so I place her onto her grandmother’s lap. They hug, with Claire’s eyelashes rising to gaze at me with gratitude.

“I don’t know what to say!”

“Mrs. Walters, I want to bring you to Atlanta for care so Hannah can be with you as much as possible…while she can.”

Her face contorts with tears. “That would be wonderful. Thank you! I really don’t know what to say.”

I really need Jason to get here.