A lump formed in my stomach. “What do you mean, a hard time? About what?”
“Ah, Flynn, they’re kids, you know. Kids say stuff all the time.” She hesitated, and I knew she was reluctant to speak the next words. “Graham was telling the other kids that Bridget wasn’t really your daughter. He said she was just pretending because her real daddy left her when she was just a baby.”
I closed my eyes.Damn it.Forcing a smile, I patted Bridget’s back. “Honey, I’m going to step outside and talk to your mama for a minute, okay? I’ll be right back in.”
I opened the screen door and stood on the back stoop. “Ali, what the hell? What was he talking about?”
“I don’t really know. I’m just telling you what the teacher said Charlie told her. Is Bridget okay? Mrs. H. said she was a little shaken up. That’s why she called.”
“She was quiet all the way home, but she wouldn’t tell me anything. Shit. What’s wrong with Graham? Why would he be such a jerk?”
Ali didn’t answer for a minute. “Well, maybe he’s not so happy about his new cousin. He’s been the only child, the only grandchild for a long time. Could be he doesn’t like sharing the spotlight.”
I thought of his interaction with Bridget at my mom’s house. I’d noticed he didn’t seem to be welcoming her with open arms, but he was a boy. Boys didn’t do warm and fuzzy. I figured in a few weeks, they’d be playing together in the backyard, the best of friends.
Clearly I’d been wrong.
“So what do I do?” This was beyond my meager parenting skills. I’d only screw it up. “Do you want me to bring her home? Or do you want to come out here to talk to her?”
Ali laughed. “No, Flynn. If you bring her back to the farm, she’ll think she’s being punished. And if I drive all the way into town, she’s going to think it’s a bigger deal than it is. Maybe just talk to her. Give her some assurance. Oh, and if I were you, I’d talk to Iona and find out what’s going on with her son.”
“Yeah, you can bet on it.” I cleared my throat. “Listen, Ali. Thanks. You could’ve made a big deal out of this. But you’re trusting me to handle it, and I really appreciate it.”
“You’re her father.” Ali spoke softly. “I know most guys get a little ramp up time to this kind of deal, and I’m sorry you’re getting tossed into the deep end, but you can handle it.”
“I hope so.” I turned as I heard my mom’s car. “Listen, I’ll call you tonight and let you know how it goes, all right?”
“Uh . . .” She sounded a little flustered. “You don’t have to report back to me, Flynn. We can just talk tomorrow.”
“No, I’ll call tonight.” Ali trusted me, and I wanted to repay that with full disclosure. “I’ll talk to you then, okay? After Bridge goes to sleep.”
“Okay.” She spoke on a whisper. “Talk to you then.”
I ended the call and was about to go back inside when I changed my mind. Mom was in the kitchen now, pulling Bridget onto her lap and laughing about something shared between grandmothers and granddaughters. I scrolled through my contacts and hit my oldest sister’s number.
“Hey. I was just about to call you.” Iona sounded weary. “Listen, Flynn. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I had no idea Graham was even in the house, but he must’ve overheard us talking—”
“Heard who talking about what?” I was pissed, but I knew my sister would never do anything to hurt my daughter. Both Iona and Reenie had been great with Bridget. Which, of course, probably had only made Graham unhappier.
“Right after everything came out about Bridget, I was telling Mark the whole story. I mean, he knew it, mostly, but you know he’s a guy, and he’d forgotten you’d even dated Ali. Crazy, right? So I was trying to explain it to him, how Ali married Craig, and we all thought Bridget was his, and then about Craig leaving. Graham must’ve come inside without me hearing him. I never knew he’d been eavesdropping until the principal called today to say he’d been fighting. When I heard the whole story, I wanted to die. I’m so sorry. You know I love Bridget.”
“Yeah, I know.” I was silent for a few beats, trying to rein in my mad. “Did Graham say why he did it?”
She sighed, long and deep. “He’s a spoiled brat, Flynn. It’s not a nice thing to say about your own kid, but it’s the truth. And we’re trying to make it better, but eight years of only kid can’t be undone in a month.” She paused. “We were worried about this anyway, with the baby coming.”
“Baby? Iona, are you knocked up again?” Gladness filled me.
“Yeah, surprise, surprise. We never planned to space our kids out this far, but you know Mark’s been trying to build up his practice, and what with one thing and another.” She sniffled. “I wish I’d known to tell Daddy. Wouldn’t he’ve been thrilled?”
“You know it.” I thought about how much I hated that my dad had never known Bridget was his granddaughter. I didn’t want to do regret, but I could still be sad. “Iona, I’m not upset with you or Mark, but you got to make sure Graham understands that he can’t go around telling people I’m not Bridget’s father. He needs to know I’m her dad.”
“I just talked to him hard for twenty minutes, but I’ll talk some more when Mark gets home. And Graham’s grounded for two weeks, if that makes you feel any better.”
I laughed. “It doesn’t, but thanks. Talk to you later.” I ended the call and went back inside, where Mom and Bridget were still giggling over brownies. The sound of my daughter’s laughter had the miraculous power to release all the knots in my chest, and I slid into a chair to join them.
I’d only known about this kid’s existence for about a month, but I was ready to lay down every dream I’d ever had to make her happy. I’d do whatever it took.
For the rest of the evening, I didn’t bring up Graham or what he’d said. Bridget was having too good a time with my mom and then with Reenie when she got home. We all made dinner together, and my sister taught my daughter how to do the Twist when it came on the radio. I sat at the kitchen counter with a beer, breathing in the smell of my mother’s fried chicken and biscuits and watching Reenie and Bridge giggle and dance. For just a fraction of a breath, I felt my dad near me, his hand on my shoulder as he watched them with me. Then it was gone, and so was he. At the stove, my mother lifted her head to meet my eyes. She smiled a little and nodded.
