Part 38 (2/2)
Her bottom lip quivers and she takes in a shaky breath. She doesn't respond, but nods to the window. I can't help but ask, ”Why didn't you just ask me, if you wanted to meet her?”
Ceecee turns to me; her tear-stained face makes my gut burn. ”Would you have let me meet her?”
I shake my head. ”h.e.l.l no.”
”That's why,” she explains weakly.
I sigh. ”She tell you she's got a family?” Ceecee nods. ”And I'm guessing she wasn't as excited to see you as you were to see her.” Ceecee shakes her head softly. I ball my hands into fists to spot myself from losing my s.h.i.+t. ”You don't need her, baby. You never did. You got me, and I love you enough for a hundred people.”
Chin trembling, tears fall from her eyes and she nods in agreement. ”I know, Daddy. I love you too.”
My heart races. I'm close to the breaking point, but I keep my calm enough to ask, ”How'd Helena find her? She hire someone? Took me close to a year to track her down.”
Ceecee looks over at me, confused. ”Helena didn't find her. I did.”
My body stiffens. ”What?” I ask, numb.
Ceecee wheels herself over to her closet. She opens the door and pulls out...
My heart beats even faster. My body hums. You have got to be kidding me. As she pulls out the box I've kept hidden all her life, I ask on a whisper, ”Where'd you find that?”
Rather than answering the question, she mutters, ”Her address was in here. Photos too. I sent her a letter weeks ago asking her to meet me this morning. She sent one back saying she would.” Her eyes find mine. ”Helena didn't know. She thought I was meeting my new friends.” She opens her mouth to speak, but closes it. Finally, she says a hushed, ”I didn't tell anyone.”
Dread fills me as the realization hits me. Helena didn't know.
”I didn't do anything wrong.”
”This is all a big mistake.”
”You don't understand, Max. It wasn't like you think.”
My heart stop beating altogether. What have I done? I close my eyes, trying to swallow, but my mouth is suddenly as dry as the Sahara Desert.
Jesus f.u.c.king Christ, what have I done?
”You're right. She's not mine. I'm not her mother. But sometimes, I wish I were.”
I feel the blood drain from my face. My palms sweat.
”Are you okay, Daddy?” I swallow hard, the pressure in my ears building as she whispers, ”I'm sorry, Daddy. So sorry.”
I turn to my daughter. ”I'm fine.” No, I'm not. ”As long as you are.”
Ceecee smiles sadly. ”I always thought meeting my mom would be a happy memory.”
I shake my head and sigh an apologetic, ”Cricket.”
She shrugs. ”Helena told me it didn't matter, that mom didn't matter.” She smiles a small smile. ”She got angry and said all that matters is I have a family who loves me, and Mom isn't cool enough to join our family, because she has a giant stick up her a.s.s.”
Helena. Of course she did.
Our family.
Our family.
My stomach turns as my head pounds. I think I might just throw up. I stand and move towards my baby girl, hugging her tight and placing a kiss to her head. ”I'm glad you're okay.”
Ceecee straightens and states, ”I can't imagine you with her.” Unknowingly stabbing me in the heart, she mutters, ”She's not like Helena, and I sort of thought she would be. I thought she'd be cool, and funny, and loving.” Her eyes narrow in thought, likely pulling a memory from this morning. ”She was just...cold.”
I rub absently at the pang in my chest. Ceecee looks up at me, grinning. ”You should've seen Helena yell at Mom. She wasn't even scared.”
I'll bet she wasn't.
I clear my throat. ”I think maybe we should do Coney Island next week, don't you think? We've already had a lot of excitement for one day. Maybe we can just sit around, watch movies, and eat junk today, yeah?”
She reaches up and takes my hand. ”I'd like that, Daddy.” Stroking her hair, I smile down at her before moving away. As I walk out of her room, she calls out, ”Can you call Helena to come too?”
Somehow, I think she'll kindly decline. Not that I'd blame her. I'm an a.s.shole. Rather than telling Ceecee that, I call back, ”I'll call her.” And call her, I do.
But she doesn't answer.
Not any of the eighteen times I call.
Chapter Thirty-Eight.
Helena It takes me over an hour of walking for me to realize I have no idea where I am. Luckily, my cell, which rings in my pocket every minute or so, is in my pocket. I call for a cab and wait patiently for it, sitting on the stone fence of a fancy house. A woman comes outside the property, pretending to get the mail, but I see her eyes me good.
A wave of irritation flows through me, but I squash it. Standing from my sitting position, I turn to the woman and smile. ”I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sit there. My feet are a little sore.”
The woman walks over to me. She looks to be in her fifties, with kind eyes. ”That's okay. You sit if you need to, doll.”
My throat thickens and I choke out, ”I've been walking a long time.”
My phone chirps in my pocket. I pull it out.
Max calling.
I stare down at the display, devastated.
The woman steps closer. ”Are you okay, sweetie?”
The simple question causes my emotions to erupt. With my phone vibrating in my hand, tears flooding my vision, I sob out, ”I'm pretty sure my boyfriend just broke up with me.”
<script>