That went better than expected. At least from my point of view. I’m pretty damn sure Andi doesn’t see it the same way. Having Violet want me to stay is the greatest feeling … like nothing I’ve ever known before. When those little arms of hers wrap around my neck, I seriously want to melt. I’m a grown man. How can such a little mite make me feel this way?

Seeing the hurt in Andi’s eyes was like feeling it reflected in my soul. But I’m not stepping back. She caused all of this with her ridiculous actions. I never would’ve done something like this had the shoe been on the other foot. Furthermore, when you love someone, don’t you want to share this kind of shit? I’m not sure I can ever trust her again.

“Dada, drink.”

“Thirsty, Little One?” Her head bobs up and down. “Come on. Let’s get some water.” I hand her a sippy cup and chuckle when I hear her slurping the liquid. When she finishes, I set the cup down and pick her up, lifting her high in the air. I’m oddly thrilled by her squeals of laughter. Then I look at her, really pay attention to her features, and notice more bits of me in her. It’s definitely the eyes—steel gray—that are identical to mine. I missed it the first time, but I’m looking into a mirror. Maybe her mouth, too, the way it tilts up on one corner. I’ve observed that in pictures and it always annoyed me, but on her it’s adorable. Her pointer finger takes aim and goes straight for my nose. This time my reflexes are quick and I intercept it before she makes contact.

“Dada funny nose.”

“Yeah, Dada has a funny nose. But you kissed it and made it better.”

She puckers up her lips to kiss it again. Then she grabs her nose and lets out a serious giggle. My mind churns and I wonder if she picked up any of the Wilde athletic genes. Maybe it’s too early to tell. I set her down and ask, “Do you like to run?”

She nods super fast and then takes off around the house like a dart on feet. Little One can definitely run. I end up chasing her and her bubbles of laughter are infectious. This kid is too cute for words. I tackle her and we roll around on the floor, but I have to be careful of that damn finger of hers. She uses it as a sword, stabbing and pointing. She even finds a place between my ribs, just like Fletcher does. Damn, how does she do that? Her favorite phrase is, “Wa dis?” Most everything else is a garbled mess to me, though I’m sure Andi knows what she says.

Suddenly, she stops and pinches my cheek. That’s not too comfortable either. “Dada like?”

“Yes, Dada likes.” Not gonna lie. Violet is burrowing into my heart faster than anything. By the time Andi gets home, I’m afraid she’s going to have a fight on her hands bigger than anything she’s ever known.

“Story?”

“Story?” I ask. Does this mean she wants me to read her something? “Show me.”

She takes my hand and tugs me up to a sitting position. I pretend she has to pull me to my feet. It’s funny seeing this tiny toddler trying to do it. Finally, I stand and she grins. Her little teeth crack me up. Then she walks me to her room and picks out a book. It’s the old classic called Goodnight Moon about a bunny in his bed saying goodnight to all the things in his room. I remember my mom reading it to me when I was young. I didn’t know it was still popular.

“Is this your favorite?” I ask.

“Favrit.” Her head bobs. She loves to nod her head.

When I’m done, she dashes out of the room like a streak of lightning. If she’s this fast now, I wonder what she’ll be like when she’s older. Maybe I need to get her a little football and start working on her foot skills. Okay, that’s probably a little aggressive. I’ll bet she’s more into dolls or something. That is an area I have no clue about. As if she reads my mind, she scoots over to a basket in the corner of the living room and picks up a fuzzy-haired doll. The poor thing appears to have seen better days. Her dress is fairly tattered and her shoes are about gone.

Violet shakes her in the air and yells, “Ishabew.”

No wonder the damn thing is falling apart. Then she squeezes the thing until I’m sure the seams are going to pop. I’m sitting on the couch when Violet flies at me, coming to a stop as she barrels into my stomach. Christ, this kid is strong. “Ishabew.”

“Ishabew?”

“ISHABEW.”

Holy crap, she has a set of lungs on her too. “Okay, okay. Ishabew.” She shakes her head and stuffs the doll into my hands. Then runs away. What the fuck. Ishabew. Ishabew. I feel like I’m in a foreign country here. And then I get it. The baby’s name must be Ishabew. Or maybe Isabelle. Chasing after Violet is a full-time job. No one ever tells you about that part. I’ve always heard about the lack of sleep, but this kid wears me out. She’s like that damn rabbit on the battery ad. She keeps going, and going, and going. And I have a lot of stamina. I can’t imagine if someone doesn’t.

“Dada. Pway.”

“Okay. But what do you want to play?”

“Pony.”

What the hell is Pony? “Why don’t you show me?”

She hops off the couch and points to the TV. Ah, it’s a show. I turn it on and she gives me the word. “No.”

Then she points to a DVD. She must have a collection or something, so I have to hunt for Pony—whatever that is. “Show me, Violet.” She scrambles around on her hands and knees to where I am and starts rooting through the pile of DVDs. When she pulls one out and grins, I notice it’s My Little Pony. This occupies her for a while and it gives me a break. Now I get why parents love them so much. I check the time and am shocked to see it’s almost seven. This kid is probably starving.

“Violet, are you hungry?”

“Hungy.” She pats my stomach.

Heading into the kitchen, I try to figure out what to make. When I open the refrigerator, I see there are a couple of things in there. One is a plate with my name on it, and another is for Violet. Andi was forward-thinking on this dinner. I’ll have to remember to thank her.

Violet is my first priority, so I get her seated and strapped into her high chair. Last time I used a towel. There has to be a bib around here. Maybe she can help.

“Violet, bib?”

That handy pointer finger sends me off in the direction of where I hope they’ll be. I open a drawer and, sure enough, there is a stack of them. She claps her hands as I come and snap it around her neck. I have to wonder if she’s always this agreeable.

I warm up her dinner, which includes chicken, mashed potatoes, and some green beans. Andi put it in one of those little divider plates and the meat is cut in nice little pieces. I hope this is better than the Cheerios.

Making sure the food isn’t too hot to eat, I set it down in front of her, along with a plastic cup of milk and a spoon. I’m not sure how safe forks are for kids. Violet digs in while I heat up my plate. It’s the same food, only a larger amount.

When I sit down next to Violet, I want to laugh. She has potatoes smeared all over her cheeks.

“Violet, is it good?”

“Good.” She grins with her mouth full, and ordinarily I would be grossed out. But not now. I could kiss her she’s so cute.

“Chew your food real good for Dada.” The last thing I need is for her to choke. I wouldn’t know what the fuck to do. “And don’t put too much in your mouth at once, sweetie pie.”

“Sweetie pie,” she repeats. She does much better with this meal than with the cereal. Green beans, however, are a source of entertainment for her. I find her making little designs on her tray with them, or at least that’s what it seems like.

“Eat your green beans, please.”

“Beans. Pleeeez.” Then she makes a scrunched-up face. Guess they’re not her favorite.

I take a bite of mine and say, “Yummmm.”

She takes a bite and says the same, but that face goes all crazied up and then she shudders. It’s so comical I laugh. So does she. We do this several more times until she won’t take any more bites. I give her a pass. She really must hate the things.

When we’re both done, I wipe her down, making sure there’s no residual food anywhere. Then there’s a knock on the door. I have an idea who it is. Grabbing Little One out of her chair, I go and answer it. Owen stands there with his daughter.

I invite him in and the girls start playing when I set Violet down.

“Andi asked me to check in on you … to see if you might need anything.”

In a terse voice, I answer, “You can report back to her that everything is under control.”

“Oh, I don’t think that’s—”

I’m not interested in anything he has to say. “No, I’m sure it isn’t. I’m not exactly excited about getting checked up on. By you or anyone. I’m fully capable of handling my own daughter.”

His mouth sags open, then it clicks shut. “I see. Well, I’m happy to see you’ve decided to take part in Violet’s life. A child needs her father.”

This time it’s my jaw hanging open. “I’m not sure what Andi’s told you, but clearly you have the wrong information. Now, is there anything else?”

He suddenly squares his shoulders and pulls himself up to his full height, which doesn’t come close to my six-three frame. “As a matter of fact, there is. Andi is important to me. I care about her. If you’ve come back to cause her problems, maybe you should rethink that. She and Violet were fine before you came to town.”

Crossing my arms, I stare him down, just as I would an opponent on the field during a timeout or a foul. “Is that a fact? All I can say is, Owen, my man, you are in the dark. You know absolutely nothing about this situation, or me. And if I were you, I’d keep my nose out of this business.”

The puzzled expression lets me know that Andi has told him nothing about us or this. He thinks she’s an angel. Let him. He’ll find out soon enough on his own.

Suddenly, he blurts, “Holly, come on, honey. We have to leave.” His daughter skips over to him and they head out the door with Violet yelling, “Bye bye.”

I do feel a bit guilty, because he’s been good to my daughter. Plus, Violet and Holly are friends. But he’s another one who believes I’m a deadbeat dad. Andi is going to set the record straight with everyone.

Violet and I watch more TV until she starts to nod off on my lap. I make her brush her teeth before I take her to bed. After I read her another story, she begs me to get into bed with her. I accommodate her wishes, with the intentions of getting up and sleeping on the couch. But that never happens. The next time I wake up, the sun is shining in the room and it’s almost eight in the morning.

Looking up, I see Violet staring at me.

“Dada. Potty.”

Great. I hope she doesn’t leave me a surprise again like she did yesterday morning.

“Okie dokie. Let’s get up.”

I walk her to the bathroom, where she goes. It’s quick and it’s only pee-pee, as she tells me. I wash her hands afterward and have her wait outside so I can do the same. Then when I’m done, she brushes her teeth. I borrow her toothbrush and brush mine. She zips out of the bathroom like someone zapped her butt with a cattle prod, and the zooming begins.

“Mama.”

Andi’s bedroom door is closed.

“Ssh. I think Mama’s sleeping.”

“Look.” She runs to Andi’s room, and before I can stop her, she’s inside and almost waking her up. Andi must’ve been tired, because she’s asleep on top of the covers. I fold the blanket over to cover her up and take Violet out of there so she can sleep. Then I hunt for some breakfast to make.

When I check the freezer, I find frozen waffles. After suggesting them to Violet, she starts repeating the word over and over, so I’m sure they’ll be a win.

Feeding her waffles is considerably easier than cereal. I’m learning more and more every day. After I clean up the dishes, Violet wants me to count her toes. We play all sorts of games, from hide-and-seek, to the tickle game, to story time. We’re on the couch and she’s snuggled on my chest when Andi finally wakes up.

“Sorry, I didn’t intend to sleep this late. I saw you spent the night in her bed.”

“Yeah, I didn’t plan on that either. I lay down and fell asleep.”

“I know how that goes,” she says, rubbing her eyes.

Better to get what needs to be said off my chest now. “Look, Owen came by last night. I want you to clarify something with him. He seems to think I have now just decided to become involved in Violet’s life. That’s the last straw, Andi. I don’t deserve that. From now on, it’s nothing but the truth.”