“Paisley?” I asked, even though I knew it was her.
“Yes,” she answered simply. I expected her voice to be hoarse from crying, but she sounded fine. Just like a normal little girl.
“My name is Sean Yates,” I said slowly. “I’m your—”
“You’re my dad,” she interrupted. “I know. I’ve seen pictures.”
“Oh,” I said. I fell silent, trying to think of something else to say. My mouth was dry and my tongue felt heavy. I wanted to say something, anything that might make her feel better. There was nothing.
“Is my mom really dead?” she asked bluntly. I sat down beside her and exhaled loudly. I tried to answer her, but the only thing I could do was nod. She nodded back and said, “Yeah.”
I waited for her to cry. I expected to see her slump in her chair and succumb to sobs, but she didn’t. She simply sat there and stared off into the distance. I watched her closely, waiting for any sign that she might need comfort. She never gave any. In that moment, she reminded me so much of myself. She was quiet. Stoic. Strong. Everything I was, and everything I wished I wasn’t.
“So,” she said. “I guess that means we’re stuck together now.”
I nodded again and she sighed deeply. She folded her hands together and turned to face me head on. I started into her eyes and it was like looking in a mirror. They were the exact same shade of blue as mine. I wanted to reach over and wrap my arm around her shoulder, but I told myself to wait. She didn’t even know me yet.
“When can we leave?” she asked. “I don’t want to be here anymore.”
“I’ll go sign the papers and then we can go.”
I hurried over to Tony and dealt with the formalities. By the time we were finished, it was late, and I knew Paisley needed to get some rest.
“When can we get inside the house?” I asked Tony. “Claire’s house, I mean. Paisley will need clothes and…”
“We took her home to pack a bag,” Tony explained. “Everything else will be handled quickly. We’ll be in touch.”
“Okay.” I nodded and turned back to Paisley. She grabbed a duffle bag from underneath her chair and walked over to me.
“Ready?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
She followed me out to the parking lot. I led the way to my bike and held my hand out for her bag. I flung the strap over my head so it sat across my body. Pulling out my helmet, I placed it on my head before grabbing my spare and handing it to Paisley. When I turned back to her, I saw that she was staring at the motorcycle with her mouth hanging open.
“You drive a motorcycle?” she asked softly.
“Is that bad?” I asked quickly. “If you don’t want to ride on it, we can ask one of the officers to drive us. I’ll just get the bike later.”
“Are you kidding?” Paisley said. “This is awesome.”
I smiled and threw my legs over the bike. I held my hand out to her and helped pull her on behind me.
“Is your helmet tight?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said.
“Okay, hold on to me,” I ordered. “Tightly. And do not let go.”
“Okay.” I felt her little arms wrap around my waist. I turned on the bike and kicked it into gear. Paisley’s arms tightened as we pulled out of the parking lot.
I drove ten miles under the speed limit the whole way to my place. My heart raced with fear as I turned every corner. I knew after about five minutes that I would need to invest in a used car. Paisley didn’t need to be on the back of my bike any more often than she had to be.
When we pulled into my driveway, I turned the bike off and helped Paisley to the ground. We walked in silence to the front door. I unlocked it and walked inside with Paisley right behind me. Immediately, I wished I’d cleaned up that morning. The place wasn’t a wreck, but I wasn’t proud of it, either.
“This way,” I said.
I showed Paisley to the spare bedroom. She walked inside and looked around. I laid her bag down on the bed.
“The bathroom is just down the hall,” I told her. “And my room is across the living room. If you need anything, just come get me. Did you pack a toothbrush?”
“Yes.”
“Okay,” I said. “Well, it’s late so…”
Paisley climbed on the bed and rolled over to the face the wall. I stayed in the room for another minute, trying to think of something to say. “I’m sorry” felt fake and “Everything will be okay” just felt like a lie. Instead, I decided to say nothing. I left the room and pulled the door closed behind me.
That night, I didn’t know how I was going to be a dad. I didn’t know the first thing about raising an eight-year-old girl, let alone one who just lost her mother. All I knew was that I had to try. No matter what.
CHAPTER FOUR
Tara
Monday morning arrived faster than I expected. My weekend was filled with nonstop thoughts about the company. More than anything, I wanted to find a solution that would make everyone happy, but I kept returning to that picture of Sean. Ray seemed whole-heartedly against the idea, and I didn’t know why. All I knew was that a model would never work.
All weekend, I wondered whether I should bring up the idea with Ray again. As opposed to it as he was, I thought I saw some sliver of curiosity in his eyes when I pitched the idea. There was something there I didn’t understand. After five years of working for Ray, I never once met his younger son. Sean was just someone I vaguely knew existed, but I hadn’t even learned his name until I found that picture. I couldn’t imagine what could have caused such a rift between him and Ray.
As I walked into the office on Monday morning, I let my feet drag. For the first time ever, I was arriving five minutes late. I walked down the hall toward my office without saying hello to anyone. All I wanted was to disappear into my office and work through my confusing thoughts.
Before I got the chance, Ray called out to me from his office. I passed his door and walked a few more steps. I considered ignoring him and following through with my plan, but I knew I could never do that. Instead, I turned around and walked into his office with a fake smile plastered across my face.
“Good morning, Tara,” he said. “How was your weekend?”
“It was fine,” I said with a shrug. “Uneventful.”
“Did you get a chance to think any more about our predicament?” he asked.
“I did,” I answered simply. Ray stared at me, waiting for me to elaborate, but I stayed silent. I already pitched the one idea I was sure would work. I refused to waste my time throwing around half-assed brainstorms we both knew would fail.
“And?” Ray finally asked.
“I thought you wanted to go with a model,” I said. “Jennifer already rounded up a few agencies. She has all the information ready for you.”
“I know,” Ray sighed. “She gave me the list this morning.”
He leaned back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling. I followed his gaze for no reason and waited for him to speak again. I had no idea what I was doing in his office at that point, but I stayed where I was. Despite my mood, I remained professional and polite.
“What do you think, Tara?” he asked. “Honestly.”