As I dragged myself into work the next morning, I was nowhere close to having an answer for Marlie. I stayed up all night trying to figure out what the fuck I should tell her, and by the time my work alarm went off, I was nowhere closer to an answer.
I got on my computer and read all night about shit I had to do for a four-year-old. I watched videos on how to put a toddler in their car seat, and I read all sorts of shit on potty training and kindergarten and what the fuck to do if a toddler was still sucking their thumb.
Did Blithe suck her thumb?
I was inundated with information by the time got ready for work. Tea was going to do nothing to keep me awake for my shift, so I swung through a coffee shop and grabbed the biggest cup they had before going to work.
The moment Caden laid his eyes on me, he pulled me off to the side.
“What the fuck is that shit?” Caden asked.
“You drink it every morning,” I said. “Don’t you recognize it?”
“It’s fucking coffee. I know that. But why are you drinking it? Where’s that bullshit tea of yours?”
“In a cabinet somewhere, I guess,” I said.
“Okay. Sit.”
“Dude, I gotta go clock in,” I said.
He laid his hand on my shoulder. “You can be late ten minutes. You’re good. Sit.”
“No, I can’t be late,” I said, shaking his hand off. “I can’t do anything to risk my job right now.”
“Holy hell, I’ll talk to the boss. You’re drinking coffee. You’ve been up all night. Something happened.”
“You remember that conversation we had about me never going on dates?” I asked. “And I kept trying to recall that one woman I’d seen more than once?”
“The fuck does that have to do with anything?”
“You remember Marlie, right?”
“Oh, shit. The woman with the thigh-high boots. Hell yeah, I do. You saw her more than once?”
“Three other times after that night on the docks,” I said.
“Did she show up last night or something? Oh fuck, did Paige find you two? This shit blew up in your face, didn’t it?”
“Would you shut your damn mouth?” I asked. “Marlie’s dying, and we have a daughter.”
Caden’s face fell instantly as he pulled me down into a chair. “What?”
“Marlie has cancer,” I said. “And it’s killing her. And we have a daughter. A four-year-old.”
“And you know this is your kid,” he said.
“She looks just like me,” I said. “And I’ve seen her birth certificate, courtesy of Paige.”
“Wait, why the hell did Paige have your daughter’s birth certificate?”
“I don’t know, and I honestly don’t want to know. Look, things are so fucked up right now it’s insane. I was up all night reading information on how the fuck to manage a four-year-old. Marlie wants me to take Blithe from her when she dies.”
“Well, yeah, you’re her father,” Caden said.
“But I don’t know the first damn thing about being a father,” I said.
“You think Marlie had any idea how to be a mother when she got pregnant?”
I shrugged. “At least she had nine months to prepare for this shit.”
“Fair enough, but still not quite what I’m getting at,” he said. “The mother of your child is dying, and she’s shown up to hand the kid over so she can grow up with family. That’s a noble fucking thing, especially since she originally chose not to tell you shit about your daughter. I’m assuming you didn’t know, right?”
“Of course, I didn’t fucking know, Caden.”
“Just making sure,” he said. “Look, a child’s life is at stake here. You didn’t know you were a dad, but now you do. And the decisions you make from here on out are going to affect her, whether you like it or not. Yes, you didn’t have a role model for ‘father of the year’ growing up, but you know what you did have?”
“What?” I asked.
“A model of what not to do, and in my book, that shit’s just as valuable.”
“I can’t raise a daughter living the life I do,” I said.
“So, change it, moron. Talk to the boss, and tell them what’s going on. You’ve worked here for years, never been late.”
“Until now,” I said.
“And you’ve always taken shifts when people call out. They’ll work with you. And if you need a new place, then fucking get one. I’ll help you find one. One that’s safer and got a yard maybe, for… what’s her name again?”
“Blithe,” I said.
“For Blithe to run around.” He paused. “What the fuck kind of name is that?”
“The name of my daughter,” I said heatedly.
Caden laughed. “See? You’re already feeling protective of your little girl. And that’s just about her name, which you didn’t even fucking choose, I might add. Do you really want some other assholes raising her?”
I sighed as I leaned back into the chair. He had a point.
“You’ve been floundering for a long time now, and for good reason,” Caden said. “But it’s time for you to step up. It’s time for you to root yourself. It’s time for you to have a purpose in life.”
“I’ve been telling you that for years,” I said.
“But I’ve never had a reason to do it. You’ve got a kid now, Zach. It’s time to be the father that yours never was.”
“Sounds like your friend has a point.”
I whipped my head around at the sound of my boss’s voice.
“Derek,” I said. “I’m so sorry. Let me go clock in.”
“Save it. I’ve been standing here for like five minutes,” he said.
I looked over at Caden, but all he did was shrug and give me a smug little smile.
“Were you mouthing that advice over my head to him?” I asked.
“Believe it or not, that was all him,” Derek said.
“I’ll leave you two to talk,” Caden said.
Derek sat in the chair beside me, giving me a sympathetic look. “Caden is right. If you’ve got a kid, it’s time for you to step up. I don’t know the details, and I don’t need to know. Take the day off and do what you gotta do. Then come talk to me. We’ll get you on a schedule that works for you.”
“I’m not sure I’m gonna be ready to talk about this before the weekend’s out,” I said. “There’s still a lot to figure out.”
“I know there will be. That’s why you’re not gonna be scheduled to work next week.”
“Derek, I’ll find a way to—”
“Mr. Harte, I’m not going to tell you this again. Get the hell out of here, and go fix your damn life.”
I drew in a deep breath through before I nodded. “I’ll call you when I have an idea of what I’m getting into.”
“Don’t do that, because then I’ll never hear from you,” he said. “I’ll talk with you Sunday.”
“Sounds good.”
I pulled out the piece of paper in my pocket and dialed Marlie’s number. I told her I was coming by the hotel and that we needed to talk. I raced through the city, hoping I hadn’t waited too long to make this decision. I didn’t know what the fuck I was about to get myself into, but I knew Caden was right.
They were all right.
I pulled into the hotel parking lot and saw Marlie standing out front. She had a stroller she was pushing that held our beautiful daughter, and a small smile crept across my cheeks. I got out of the car, and she came walking toward me, her frail body basking in the sun as she grinned at me.
I held out my arms for her and embraced her as we stood in the middle of the parking lot.
“Are you hungry?” I asked. “We could go get something to eat somewhere. My treat.”
“I was actually hoping we could just take a walk. I’m a bit stiff, and Blithe loves the outdoors.”
“I’d like to hear more about her, actually,” I said.
“Wait. Does that mean…” Marlie’s big brown eyes looked up into mine with hope in them, and I felt a surge of happiness just before I answered her.
“Yes,” I said. “I’m taking Blithe.”
Marlie threw her arms back around me, and I held her close. I could feel how frail her body had become. My fingers sank into the ridges of her ribcage, and I could feel her body trembling. It was sixty-two degrees outside, but she shivered like it was below freezing. I put her down and shrugged off my coat before I wrapped it around her shoulders. Then I escorted her to the sidewalk so we could take a leisurely stroll.
“Thank you so much, Zach,” she said with tears in her eyes. “I don’t know how I can repay you. I’m so sorry for keeping this from you.”
I reached over and placed my hand on top of hers as she pushed the stroller in front of her body.
“May I?” I asked.
We stopped briefly so she could hand the stroller off to me.
“I don’t want to waste our time with apologies. You made the best decision for our daughter when you found out you were pregnant, and now, I’m repaying the favor. I’m making the best decision for our daughter under the circumstances.”
I looked over and saw tears pouring down Marlie’s face.
“Please don’t cry,” I said.
“I’m just so relieved,” she said. “I’m so happy Blithe will still be with family.”
“Does she not have anyone else? I mean, grandparents on your side or anything that want to see her?”
“My whole family practically disowned me when they found out I was pregnant. Compliments of a staunchly religious family.”
“So, it’s been just you?” I asked. “For four years?”
“It’s not as bad as it sounds. She’s a good kid. Very shy and doesn’t talk much. She’s very low maintenance.”
“Does she have any allergies to anything?” I asked.
“Not that I’ve found, but she’s never been a sickly kid. Never been hospitalized or on any major medication. I’ve got all her medical files and stuff in my car.”
“Wait, you have all of her stuff here?” I asked.
“I do,” she said.
The two of us stopped at a crosswalk. “When are you turning her over to me?” I asked.
“As soon as you can take her.”
We walked in silence until we came upon a park. I could hear Blithe shifting around in her stroller, so I stepped in front of her to unbuckle her. She immediately curled into the back of her stroller, trying to get away from me as her eyes stared at me with wild uncertainty.
I looked up at Marlie, and she urged me to keep going.
I unbuckled her from her stroller and held my hands out for her. She didn’t come to me, but I lifted her out of the stroller anyway. The moment I settled her onto her feet, she took off for the swings, throwing herself at one and giggling as she scurried up onto it.
“Does she need any help or anything?”
Marlie shook her head. “She’s very independent. I wonder who she gets that from.”
I grinned at the sentiment as I watched my daughter swing herself on the swings. “You’re sicker than you let on, aren’t you?”
“No point in trying to coax you into this with fear,” Marlie said.
“How long do you really have?” I asked.
“I don’t really know,” she said.
“Give me a ballpark.”
She sighed heavily as Blithe’s giggles filled my ears.
“Six weeks ago, they told me I had four weeks,” she said. “So, who knows?”
I turned to look at her, my body shielding her from the wind that was starting to pick up out of nowhere. “Does that mean there’s a chance that you’ll pull through?”
“No. It just means I have a great deal of willpower. Some days, I feel like I could conquer the world, and some days, I can’t even open my eyes. Those days scare me, and they’re coming more frequently now.”
I wrapped my arm around her shoulder and drew her frail body close to mine.
“I can feel it coming,” she said. “It’s weird, you know? I’ve read biographies of people where their loved ones said they could feel the end coming. That the person dying just knew it was about to happen. I can feel it in my bones, Zach. It’s coming, and there’s nothing I can do about it.”
I felt stomach bile rising up my throat, and burning tears stung the backs of my eyes.
“I have all her things in my car,” she said. “Everything from her medical history, all the way to her favorite stuffed animal. I have a notebook I’ve written everything down in. What she likes to eat and what she likes to do. Habits she has that I’m keeping an eye on and things she’s starting to learn. Things she’s still struggling with that I’m working with her on and things coming up that you’ll have to coordinate. Like preschool and kindergarten and stuff like that.”
“That’s good,” I said. “I’m going to need that.”
“Don’t feel overwhelmed. It takes time. She’ll have to warm up to you, and you’ll have to warm up to her. But I know this is the right thing. I know there’s no better place for her to be.”
“I can assure you she’s safe with me.”
“I have no doubt of that,” she said, grinning. “You’ve always felt safe to me.”
I squeezed her shoulder before I pulled her in for a hug, and I felt her bury her face into the crook of my neck.
“I’m so sorry, Zach,” she said breathlessly. “I’m so sorry for doing this to you.”
“Hush now. None of that talk. Just calm down.”
“Please tell her I love her,” she said, crying. “Please tell her that she was my world.”
“I will,” I said as I choked back tears. “I promise you I will.”
We stood there in the middle of the playground as Blithe continued to run around. She was giggling and swinging, and her jet-black curls were blowing in the wind. When she smiled, I could see the beauty of her mother in her features. I just hoped I could raise her to be as strong as her mother was. As strong as this frail woman who was crying into my skin.
“She’ll be just fine,” I whispered. “Both of us will be just fine.”