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a father's love. | drabble
“Mommy, how come Apowwo has a dad and I don’t?” Lilah asks, lips pushed out in a pout. She had spent the last twenty minutes playing with Fergie and her brother in the living room while I took a nap, and from the disappointing look on her face, she didn’t have much fun.
The question takes me my surprise; I wasn’t dumb enough to believe that she wouldn’t ask these kinds of questions as she got older. It had been almost three years since her father died, and though I always told her that she did have a dad, I didn’t expect her to understand all that easily. “What do you mean, baby? You do have a dad. Fergie’s your dad, too.” I say, patting the empty space on the bed, indicating that it was safe for her to talk to me. “Come here.”
Little legs drag against the hardwood floor, and she climbs up next to me, cuddling into my side. My arms wrap around her, lips kissing the top of her head - I don’t pry for an answer.
“No he’s not, mommy. I mean…” Her little voice fades, and I watch the frustration in her face as she ponders her words. “I wove him, and I know he woves me, but… I miss my real dad.”
I didn’t know four words could cause me so much pain until they left her mouth. I’ve tried my best to give Lilah a good life - even when I was a sh*tty parent, she always came first. I guess I never took notice of how badly she was hurting - she was only a baby when Stone died. For most of her life, it was me, her, and Talulah. And though she and Fergie had a wonderful relationship, I should have known that she understood that they weren’t blood related. I exhale a sigh, fingers running through her hair. “I know, baby..me too.” I say.
Though I’m happy and secure in my marriage, there’s still the lingering feeling of ‘what if’ - what if Stone were still alive? What if he and I had another baby?
“Listen to me though,” I say, adjusting myself so I can look at Lilah’s face, smiling at her. “Your daddy - your real daddy - he loved you very much. He.. he was sick.” I still didn’t know how to tell her that Stone passed from an overdose. “He didn’t leave you because he didn’t want you, baby. Daddy was just sick. I know it’s confusing, having two dads. But Fergie loves you so much, and I think your daddy helped bring him to you.”
“He did?” She asks, her blue eyes gazing up to my own with a grin.
“Mhmm. I think daddy knew that we both needed someone to lean on, and he handpicked Fergie from the bunch because he knew how much he would love us.” I smile, giving her a small squeeze. "It’s okay to miss your dad, baby. But don’t forget that it’s also okay to call Fergie daddy, too. It doesn’t mean you love your real dad any less. And if you ever need someone that’s big and strong, you can ask him for help, okay?”
Her head nods, and I can tell that she's in better spirits “Okay mommy," she says, slipping off of the bed after giving me a kiss. I ask where she was going, and I watch as she turns with a smile, "to go find Daddy!"
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