Page 59 of Blue Sky

And there, standing outside my window, was my father

I knew it the second I saw him; his green eyes were the same shade of mine and we had the same chin.

He motioned for me to roll down the window, and I complied.

“You must be Paloma. I had hoped you would find me.”

He recognized me?

“Wow, let me look at you. You are beautiful, just like your mother. Please come inside.”

I emerged from the car and he pulled me into a long embrace and just held me. Held me so close and I breathed him in. My father. How many nights had I cried dreaming of this moment. Even a grown woman sometimes needs her father to hug her. Especially, when she never had that closeness growing up.

My father led me into the house. “Jill, I’d like you to meet Paloma. My daughter.”

Jill’s lip quivered, and I didn’t know if she was horrified by my presence or thrilled. Our pause was awkward, but after a few minutes she pulled me in for my second hug of the day.

“Nice to meet you dear, we have been waiting for you. I’m your step-mother.”

To hear this strange woman tell me she was my step-mother was almost too much to bear. My mom had warned me that his family would reject me, want nothing to do with me, just like Beck would. But so far, I was sensing this was exactly the opposite.

My father sat on a chair across from a sofa. “Please sit down. We have a lot of catching up to do.”

That seemed like the understatement of the year. He turned to his wife. “Would you get us some tea?”

“Of course.” She placed a hand on my shoulder.

The house smelled like roses. Though it wasn’t lavish by any means, I knew how expensive homes were in Coronado. I knew this home must be worth over two million dollars, a number that was mind boggling.

“You knew about me? Why didn’t you find me?”

The creases on his eyes deepened and a pained look fell across his face. “I tried. God knows I tried. I came back to El Centro once I found out your mom was pregnant. Your mom demanded that I marry her. And I loved her, but I wasn’t ready to get married.” He looked toward the door and his expression became vacant. “My family kept telling me that marrying your mom would ruin my career. I didn’t listen to them. But then 9/11 happened and I was given orders to deploy. I was so overwhelmed with my career—I just needed time to sort everything out. I sent your mom money, but she wouldn’t let me see you.”

“I understand.” And I did. It was complicated. Probably how Beck felt about me before I dumped him.

“But I came back. You were almost two and I remember seeing you at the air show, my own eyes looking back at me. I had spent the next year deployed, and all I could think of over in Iraq was you and your mother. I vowed that if I made it out of the war alive, that I would marry your mom. But by then, it was too late. She wanted nothing to do with me. Wouldn’t let me see you. Wouldn’t see me. I proposed to her, offered to share custody, but she wouldn’t even let me see you. I should’ve fought harder, Paloma. I should’ve fought harder for you and for her. I sent money and cards for years, but she would send them back. After a few years, I gave up. I met Jill and we have been happily married, but we unfortunately weren’t blessed with children. I had always hoped that one day you would come back to me. That you would forgive me. And now you are here. You are like an answer to my prayers.”

I was legit speechless. Should I believe this man? Why on earth would my mom not take him back, and worse yet not let him see me? And why would she send back money when we were so poor. It was unfathomable to me. Was he lying?

“I don’t understand. You could’ve filed for custody. You could have supported me. We were so poor. I spent my entire childhood hungry. My only daily meal was free lunch. I had nothing, and you have everything. Why would she cut you out?”

Jill returned with the tea and a china plate filled with cucumber sandwiches. She had a kind face and blonde hair. She looked to be in her early forties. Had this man fought harder to see me, I could’ve lived with them. Maybe I would’ve had a close relationship with Jill. Maybe she would’ve braided my hair, cooked for me, taught me how to be a woman.

Maybe she would’ve loved me.

“I don't know. You will have to ask her. It never made any sense to me either. I knew she never forgave me for not marrying her when I found out she was pregnant. Maybe she was afraid I would take you away from her. And you know, that was probably a valid fear. Had I known everything you had just told me, I would’ve filed for custody.”

I exhaled and I felt as if this world was closing in on me. The information overload was too much. Had my mother truly loved me when I was a little girl? Done everything in her power to keep me close? And this man just admitted that her fear would’ve been founded. He would’ve taken me away. And I would’ve lived a privileged life.

What happened to my mom? Why didn’t she want this man back? And when did she stop loving me?

“Did you really love her?”

“I loved her with every fiber in my body. She was beautiful of course, looked just like you. I met her when I went to eat in town. She sat across from me at the table and introduced herself.”

That definitely sounded like her. My mother had never been shy like me. “Go on.”

“Well, I was immediately taken in by her. She was so full of life and simple, and I don’t mean that in a condescending way. I’m from Connecticut and I was used to girls with money who always wanted to be pampered. My high school girlfriend had left me when I joined the Navy because she had wanted to be with a wealthy guy. So your mom was refreshing. She could have fun with a blanket and a picnic. She loved riding in my truck, stealing kisses in the moonlight. I fell deeply in love with her.”