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She’s perfect.
All of this is just perfect.
So why the hell can’t I stop thinking about her damned father?
David Beckett.
I had no idea he was even living in the same city, let alone had a daughter.
It’s been that long? I guess it has.
They say blood is thicker than water, but something tells me all of that’s going to be put to the test and soon, whether I like it or not.
I try to push it to the back of my mind. It’s ancient history, over twenty years ago now.
But I’m snuggled up right next to David Beckett’s past twenty years of fatherhood, his only daughter.
She will be mine, I know she will. I’ll claim her properly when the time’s right.
But I also know her dad won’t want to see it that way.
Before I was an architect, the kind that designs billion dollar skyscrapers instead of energy-efficient bungalows; I was in college.
I was on my own, with no family or friends and if it wasn’t for a scholarship I wouldn’t have ever been there in the first place.
My roommate turned out to be David Beckett, another Architecture student. Like myself, he was from state care and had won a scholarship too.
Without blowing my own horn, or David’s; we were both very talented young guys with some ideas and designs that even had the senior staff nodding with jealous approval.
We were going places, and we knew it.
At least, I did.
David had this thing, he’d freeze up whenever he had to speak to more than one person.
Shy, but to the point of being useless as a presentation partner.
Jesus, I haven’t thought about this for years.
I used to worry about it. Feel bad even. But once I got my first solo design contract, once I banked that check, I never looked back.
It’s been over twenty years and I can still see his face. A major project with majority marks from the presentation, not just design.
A presentation pitched to the entire class, as well as the state moderators who gave a final grade.
I carried him through it, watching him freeze up every time he had to speak until I just took over. Led the whole presentation and finished to a standing ovation.
By the time I turned around to share the moment, he was gone.
By the time I got back to our dorm, his side was empty.
Cleaned out.
He never spoke to me again after that day and I only heard second hand the grudge he bore over the whole thing.
David Beckett still graduated though, became an architect. Last I heard he was working for the city, public housing.
Me? I was an overnight success in the design world. Sounds corny to some people, but like anything, if you get a few thousand for designing a million dollar house; you get a thousand times that for heading up a team designing a billion dollar skyscraper.
By the time I was thirty I was picking and choosing contracts, still do.
I haven’t thought about David Beckett, or even college for a long time.
Now I can’t think about anything else.
Truth be told, it’s more his daughter I can’t stop thinking about, but I do feel some sort of responsibility.
Hearing Valentine stirring, I figure he might need to go outside for a bit.
I untangle myself from Rachel, and covering her up I slip into the robe she had on to cover myself up from the cold.
I flick the thermostat remote on the way out, setting it to warm the whole house for a change, not just the room I’m sitting in.
“No running off either, okay?” I ask Valentine, watching him trot down the back of the yard as I half-close the door. The phone on the wall like a beacon, the reflection in the glass as I strain to keep sight of Valentine.
May as well get it over with.
I know this is the real reason I got up, Valentine can let himself out if he really has to go.
Most nights he sleeps so heavy I’m the one who has to wake him up in the morning.
I’ve never shied away from phone calls, or people, and even though it’s late I know he’ll be up.
I would be if she was my-
I can’t even think it. She is mine, she will be mine.
Sighing a little before snatching up the receiver, I hit the redial button. Rachel dialed before and now I’m re-dialing.
It rings twice before he picks up, and I can hear the worry in his voice.
“Rachel?” he gasps, and I feel it all at once.
All the pain, worry, and regret a man feels when what he loves suddenly disappears and he has no idea where it is or even when or if it’ll return.
“Rachel? I’m sorry honey, just tell me where you are and I’ll come get you… Rachel? Rachel!”
I should say something, at least let him know she’s safe.
