Chapter 13

Seth held the door to the comics shop open for Maddie. She didn’t need more, since her room was filled with stacks of them, but it was the only olive branch he’d been able to think of. And he’d reached the point where there was a permanent ache in his chest caused by the ever-widening gulf between his daughter and him.

“Hey, how’s it going?” the skinny guy behind the register said.

“Hey,” Maddie mumbled, staring at her feet. She hurried off to the left side of the store.

Seth turned to follow her.

“Hey, are you…Chamberlain?” the cashier asked.

Seth closed his eyes. Dammit, of all the times for him to get recognized. This excursion was supposed to be about Maddie.

But he wasn’t going to be a jerk just because the guy had bad timing.

“Yeah. Hey.” He held out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Brian.” For as skinny as he was, the guy’s handshake was solid. “I had no idea you were a comic book fan.”

“I’m not really. But my daughter is. She lives for comics.” Seth inclined his head in the direction Maddie had gone.

“Oh, that’s cool.” Brian nodded, head bobbing up and down in a way that made him resemble a chicken. “Let me know if you need any help finding something. And great meeting you. Good luck this weekend.”

Seth smiled. “Thanks. Nice meeting you too.”

Heading toward the back corner, he went in search of his daughter. He found her inspecting a large display of plastic figurines with small bodies and large squarish heads. She balanced four boxes against her chest as she reached for a fifth. Wonder Woman. Except she had strange, muted colors.

Whatever. If it made Maddie happy, he’d buy it. Which felt suspiciously like trying to buy her affection, but if it garnered him even the slightest bit of goodwill, or opened the door to a non-hostile conversation, it was worth it.

“One of your adoring fans?” she asked, her sarcasm so thick it was practically visible.

Apparently he’d have to purchase the figurines before getting a chance for non-hostility.

Ignoring her snark, he tried to see the boxes she held. “Who’ve you got to go with Wonder Woman?”

Maddie sighed. “Batgirl, Harley Quinn, Katana.”

Which made four, and she held five boxes now. But he wasn’t going to argue math details. “Don’t you already have Wonder Woman and a few of the others?”

“Not the Bombshell versions,” she said in a duh voice.

“Oh, right.” Because he knew what that meant.

His gaze caught on a figure with orange hair, dressed in green. Poison Ivy. His heart rate picked up and he put his hands in his jeans pockets to keep from reaching for the toy. Carrie probably already had one. And there was no way he could explain to Maddie why he wanted to get that particular one. Yet the idea of getting one for himself, to put on his computer desk to remind him of Carrie, was compelling. They probably made Iron Man too. He could get the pair.

Which was a ridiculous idea. It was the sort of sappy thing men in love did to remind them of their wives. Lem had gotten a pair of bobbleheads made of him and Sarah for their tenth anniversary and they kept them on a bookshelf in their family room. He and Carrie weren’t even a couple. They were sex buddies.

Sex buddies did not buy action figures to remind themselves of them as a couple. Because of the whole not-a-couple part.

“Here.” She shoved the white boxes at Seth. He barely managed to catch them all before she disappeared around the back of the display.

“Hey, can I get a couple for Carrie?”

A present for Carrie? Hadn’t he just decided that was a bad idea? Or sort of, anyway.

But this was different, because it would be from Maddie.

Seth joined his daughter on the other side of the shelves. “What did you have in mind?”

She handed him a box containing a female superhero with brown skin and hair, a red, white, and blue costume, and a blue mask over her eyes. “Ms. Marvel. Carrie really likes her.” She gave him her winningest smile. The one she knew would get her whatever she wanted.

He reached for the shelf. “Let me guess, you want one too?” He grabbed another and added it to the stack he held balanced on his forearm, leaning against his chest.

“Thanks, Dad.” She wandered down another row of shelves, all containing action figures and other collectibles.

For the first time in days, Seth could almost draw a full breath as he followed her through the store. She was smiling, and had managed to go a whole five minutes without rolling her eyes or making a snotty remark.

“How come you never tell me about my mom?” she asked matter-of-factly as she rounded the end of yet another aisle. Her tone was so casual, it took Seth a moment to realize what she’d asked.

When he did, it felt like a punch caught him right under the rib cage. He could barely breathe for a second. Everything in him tensed, bracing for a fight.

“Because she left when you were a baby,” he spit out. The few pleasant memories he had of Jessa were vastly overshadowed by her abandonment of her own infant. “Why would you care?” He loved Maddie enough for two parents.

She stopped and gave him a withering stare. “I don’t know. Maybe because she’s my mother?”

Only in the strictest biological sense of the word. “I’ve told you everything I know about her.” Maybe that wasn’t 100 percent true. He’d glossed over details about how cold Jessa could be. The lack of emotion she’d shown toward their child.

He definitely wasn’t going to tell Maddie how Jessa called every few months asking for money, but rarely asking about their daughter. The first few times, Seth had asked her if she wanted to know anything about Maddie. Her answer had always been a genuinely confused “Why?”

“She took off before I got to know her very well.”

“You knew her well enough to have a kid.”

“Two stupid-drunk college kids don’t need to know much of anything for one of them to get knocked up.” As soon as the words came out, Seth regretted them, even if they were true.

Maddie winced, closing her eyes. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and tell her he hadn’t meant that the way it sounded, that his bitterness was all for Jessa and not at all for her, but he couldn’t. Besides the stupid figures he carried, everything about Maddie’s posture screamed not to touch her.

“So I’m a mistake,” she whispered.

Fucking hell.

He shoved the damn toys onto a shelf and took Maddie’s shoulders. He turned her toward him, but she didn’t open her eyes. He wanted to scream at her, he wanted to hold her forever, he wanted to puke. How had tonight gotten so royally fucked up?

“No. Absolutely no. We didn’t plan you, but you have never, ever been a mistake, Madison.”

When she finally opened her eyes, her glare was sharp enough that it felt like glass tearing through his heart. “Coulda fooled me.” She jerked out of his grip and stalked away.

Seth reached her in two large steps, grabbing her arm. “You can stop this tantrum right now. I know this move has been hard and the season is tough on you. I hate that it’s so hard for you. But never, not once in your life, have I treated you like a mistake. I love you more than anything. You might not believe it, but even football is a very distant second to you, Madison Deanna Chamberlain. From the second I first held you, you have been the best, most important thing in my life. You can be mad at me for plenty of things, including dragging you to a new city. But treating you like a mistake isn’t one of them. Treating you like I don’t love you so much it hurts sometimes isn’t one of them. So go right ahead and stay pissed at me for the shit Jessa did if that’s what you need to do. But you don’t ever tell me again that you’re a mistake.”

They stood in weighty silence for endless moments, Maddie staring at her feet, Seth trying to get his temper under control. Finally Maddie turned away from him. “I’m gonna go find a few comics.” She shuffled away.

Empty and deflated, Seth gathered up the stupid action figures and headed for the register.