CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Sean
Sunday was a slow day at the house. Paisley was tired from the exciting weekend, and I was miserable because I missed Tara so much. I felt pathetic, like a whipped teenager who just got laid for the first time. No matter how many times I told myself to get it together, I couldn’t stop thinking about her.
That night, I finally caved. I decided to take Paisley out to dinner, and I asked if she wanted to invite Tara. Of course, Paisley said yes. She loved Tara just as much as I was starting to. I called Tara and invited her. She said no and I had to pretend like I understood, but my heart fell into my stomach. We got off the phone, and I told Paisley Tara was busy. Paisley was upset, but she got over it quickly. The two of us went out to dinner alone, and it was amazing.
The entire time we ate, Paisley talked my ear off about her swim camp and how excited she was for her swim team to start in August. I didn’t even know she was on a team, but I could tell by her face that it wasn’t something she would forget. I smiled and asked all the right questions. By the end of the night, I felt even more like a dad. Paisley fell asleep in the car on the way home, and I carried her to bed. She felt so light in my arms and I never wanted to put her down. I sat by her bed that night and watched her sleep. I couldn’t believe I’d already missed so much of her life.
When I went to bed Sunday night, I couldn’t sleep. I touched the pillow where Tara had slept two nights earlier and I felt a familiar sense of loneliness wash over me. I had fun with Paisley, but I still missed Tara desperately. What was worse was the fact that I wouldn’t get to see her Monday morning either.
Tara gave me the day off on Monday to spend time with Paisley. I was excited for it, but I’d also been looking forward to seeing Tara again. The higher ups in the company were going to have a big meeting to go over all the numbers, and I wasn’t welcome for that. I was important enough to model and give press conferences, but not to deal with the real stuff. It didn’t bother me, though. I always hated the business side of things. I would much rather spend my time working on the bikes than brainstorming ways to sell them.
When I finally fell asleep, I dreamt of Tara. She floated in and out of my subconscious the whole night, and when I woke up, she was still on my mind. I sighed and climbed out of bed, resigning myself to yet another day of not seeing her. Once Paisley woke up, I would have enough distractions to get through the day, but I still had an hour before that would happen.
I went into the kitchen and took my time making breakfast. I made a huge meal complete with waffles, sausage, pancakes, and bacon. I fried up a few eggs and sliced some fruit. I knew it was too much food for Paisley and me to eat, but I didn’t care. I had a special day planned for her and I wanted to start it off the right way.
Paisley came into the kitchen just as I finished slicing the fruit. She rubbed her eyes and sat down in her usual chair. I brought all the food over to her with a flourish and a smile.
“Wow,” she said. “This is a lot of food.”
I shrugged. “I know. I got carried away this morning. Besides, we’re celebrating.”
“Celebrating?” Paisley asked.
“Yup.” I grinned. “We’re going shopping today.”
“For what?” Paisley asked.
“Anything you want,” I said. “Remember when I said you could decorate your room?”
“Yeah.” Paisley nodded.
“Well, we’re gonna do that today,” I said. “We’ll get everything you need and spend the day decorating. What do you think?”
“Okay!” Paisley said. She grinned and began eating as fast as she could. I laughed and thought I should have waited until she finished breakfast before I told her the plan.
***
At the store, Paisley and I went down every aisle, making sure we got anything and everything she might need. We bought her a desk lamp and a new bedroom set complete with curtains and throw pillows. Then, we found a few posters to hang on the walls and some new outfits. She was having so much fun that I almost didn’t want to leave.
“Anything else?” I asked, glancing into the basket. “What about a trash can? You need a trash can.”
“Sure!” Paisley said. She ran down the aisle and grabbed a bright purple trashcan. It didn’t match anything we’d gotten so far, but I didn’t care. This was her day and her room. She could have whatever she wanted.
As we made our way to the checkout lines, we passed by the toy section. Paisley glanced down a few aisles but didn’t show any interest until the bikes came into view. She gasped loudly and stopped in front of a small green one. It had a white basket and a bell attached to the handlebars. She slid her hand over the sides of it, staring at it in awe.
“I’ve never had one,” Paisley whispered. I couldn’t tell if she was talking to herself or to me. She spoke so softly.
“Never?” I asked. Paisley jumped and whirled around. She hadn’t realized I was watching her.
“Sorry,” she said, shaking her head. “I didn’t mean to stop.”
“It’s okay,” I said. “Check it out for a minute.”
Paisley circled around the bike. She touched the seat and rang the bell. Her eyes were wide and her mouth hung open. I’d never seen her look so excited about anything.
“Do you want it?” I asked slowly. I didn’t want to seem like I was trying to buy her, but she seemed so excited that I couldn’t help myself.
“No,” Paisley said quickly. She shook her head and stepped away from it. “It’s okay. I don’t need it.”
“Well, I know that,” I said, laughing. “But do you want it?”
“I don’t know how to ride,” Paisley whispered. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and I took a step forward.
“I can teach you,” I offered.
“Really?” she asked. She looked at me suspiciously like I was lying to her.
“Of course,” I said. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“My mom always said she would,” Paisley admitted softly. “But she never had time. She always said she was too busy.”
I nodded. “I see. Well, I’m not too busy. I think we should get it.”
“Are you sure?” Paisley asked. She looked back at the bike with a frown. I could tell she wanted it, but she was nervous.
“Positive,” I said. “Come on.”
I grabbed the bike, and we took it up to the checkout lanes, along with our basket. It was an expensive shopping trip, but after getting my first paycheck from Yates’ Motorcycles, I didn’t care. We were celebrating.
We paid for everything and loaded it into the car. Once we got back to the house, I ordered us pizza for lunch, and we went to work decorating Paisley’s bedroom. I made the bed with her new sheets and comforter. Then we added the throw pillows. While I hung the curtains and the posters, Paisley plugged in her desk lamp and set up the trashcan. She moved it three times before she finally found the perfect place.
“Do you like it?” I asked when we were done. She looked around the room slowly, taking in the full effect.
“It’ll do,” she said stubbornly.
“It’ll do?” I scoffed. “Come on, you love it.”
“It’s okay,” she insisted.
“You love it,” I teased. I poked her in the side. She jerked away and tried not to giggle.
“It’s nice,” she said.
“Nice?” I exclaimed. “I’ll show you nice!”
I lunged forward and grabbed her around the waist. I threw her over my shoulder and pretended to drop her on her head. She screamed and laughed while I tickled her. We played and joked around for the rest of the day.
Slowly, I was learning more about my daughter. I knew she only liked cheese pizza and that she loved the color green. I knew her drawings were personal, but she loved to share them with the right people. I knew she would swim all day if she could, and I also knew that she really missed her mom.
As we sat together in her bedroom, I finally braved the subject.
“I’m sorry about your mom,” I said softly. “I know we haven’t talked about her a lot and I’m sorry for that. I just wanted to give you some time. I know you must miss her a lot.”
“I do,” Paisley said. “But sometimes I don’t. Is that bad to say?”
“No.” I shook my head. “It’s human. It means you’re healing.”
“I don’t want to forget about her,” Paisley said softly. “And sometimes I’m really mad at her.”
“Mad at her?” I asked. “Why?”
“Because she always said she’d never leave, but she did,” Paisley said. “She did leave. She died.”
I watched Paisley eyes fill with tears, and I fought back tears of my own. I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and held her against my chest until all her tears dried up. When she was done crying, I knew the conversation was over. She’d said as much as she could about her mom.
“Come on,” I said, taking her by the hand.
We went out to the driveway, and I parked her bicycle right in front of her. She stared at it apprehensively, unsure of what to do.
“I’ll help you,” I said. “Just climb on.”
Paisley climbed onto the bike and I held her up. Together, we slowly moved down the driveway. She pedaled and I made sure she kept her balance. She was nervous at first, but the longer we rode, the more comfortable she became.
I didn’t know when to let go, but I thought I would know the moment when it came. She wasn’t ready yet. She was still teetering to either side too often, and besides, I knew I couldn’t let her fall. Not yet. Not when we were finally starting to feel like a real family.
I led Paisley up and down the street until the sun began to set. She didn’t want to go inside, so we sat on the porch together and watched the stars come out. I showed her a few constellations, and she had fun naming the stars with silly names.
“That one’s Tibby,” she giggled. “And that one is… Spoon!”
“What about fork?” I asked. “If there’s a spoon, then there has to be a fork.”
She shook her head. “No, just the spoon.”
I laughed. “Okay. Whatever you say.”
We spent an hour just looking up at the stars and making jokes. Paisley laughed more that night than I’d ever heard her laugh before. I suddenly realized that I didn’t need Tara around to make Paisley happy. As much as I loved Tara’s company, Paisley and I were doing just fine on our own. She was my daughter and I was her dad. No matter how rough our beginning was, we were finally falling into the roles we were always meant to play. I couldn’t believe I let so much time go by without knowing her or that I once thought she would be better off without me. I could no longer imagine my life without her in it.