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But watching him with Adele striped me, too, of my reservations, of my will. The way he looked at her turned my heart into a puddle in my chest. The way she looked at him was like they shared some huge ridiculous secret that the rest of the world wanted in on.
I couldn’t say no to him. And I certainly couldn’t say yes to him.
We agreed on a compromise. He’d call me first and ask to see Adele. Adele would see him only if she wanted to. Visits would be supervised. We’d figure out child support with a lawyer. I was not ready to talk about custody—may never be. He could not, under any circumstances, ask me out again.
His eyes were downcast in disappointment and pain, but he agreed to it all.
I couldn’t stop looking at his lips, his forearms, the glint in his smoldering green eyes.
“Are you going to stay here with Fox?”
“Ellison, this is my home. I’ve got no place else to go.”
When I left him, he asked for a hug. Even though every piece of me wanted nothing more, I told him no. But that didn’t stop Adele from her goodbye.
“See you around, Dad,” she said when he fist-bumped her goodbye.
Dad.
Her father was home. Adele had a father for the first time in her life.
“When do you think I can see my dad again?” Adele asked when I tucked her into bed a few nights later.
“Do you want to see him again?”
“I do but I don’t want to make you sad.”
“Why would that make me sad?”
“Everything about Dad makes you sad. It always has. That’s why I never pressured you about trying harder to see him. You get all withdrawn and then I’m scared you’ll go hate yourself and play with the razor again.”
Oh, Jesus Christ. From the mouths of babes.
I pulled her into a tight hug.
“I’ve had so much goddamned therapy that I’m pretty sure I’ll never cut again. Whatever makes you happy makes me happy. I want you and your father to have a connection. You should see him whenever you want.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Are you still in love with him?”
Holy Crap. Is nothing sacred?
“I love your father very much. But a lot has happened since we were together. A lot has changed.”
“So you’re not into, like second chances?”
“I am into them, Adele. But maybe not in this context. Do I want to date a murderer? Marry one? He’s unstable and I want you to have a healthy home environment.”
“So it’s cool if I just like invite him over for lunch tomorrow or something?”
I kissed the top of Adele’s head. “I’ll give him a call and we can set something up.”
“Thanks Mom, you’re the best. Can I ask you a question?”
“Anything, Kiddo.”
“Didn’t Calvin kill Monty to protect his mom? Like if he hadn’t stepped in maybe Grandma Meg wouldn’t be here at all?”
“Well, that’s more or less why the judge gave him a light sentence.”
“I’d do that for you, Mom. I’d sacrifice everything to save you”
I kissed her again and turned out the light. I was speechless. Adele had bravely, and maybe unconsciously taken her father’s side.
When I left Adele’s room I poured myself a glass of wine and sat down on the sofa to watch television, but I kept glancing at my phone. I knew what Adele was asking for wasn’t too much, Cal was her father and she needed to decide for herself what kind of relationship she wanted with him but a part of me was terrified of opening up my old wounds that seemed to have never really healed. But this was about my daughter and wasn’t about me.
I saw my phone flash with a text from Fox.
FOX: You ok?
ME: Yeah, I’m fine. Overwhelming but I’m ok.
ME: Hey do you have Cal’s number?
FOX: Yeah, why?
ME: Adele wants to see him.
FOX: You ok with that?
ME: Yes! I want them to know each other. I’m more scared for myself than for her.
Fox sends me Calvin’s contact information.
ME: Thanks, Fox. Maybe I can bring Adele over tomorrow so she can spend some time with Calvin. He’s staying with you right? Would that be all right?
FOX: Yeah. I’ll be here so you don’t have to.
ME: Thanks.
I ran my fingers over the scars along my arms. I’d never been one to process loss. But it was slowly creeping into me that Calvin was no longer lost. He’d come home, and if he kept himself out of trouble, he once again, could become a permanent fixture in our lives.
CALVIN
I woke up to music coming from the living room, which was a hell of a lot different than the sounds of cell doors slamming and COs yelling that the morning grub was ready. A sweet melody, an angelic voice. Sounded like my old Fender and I wondered if it were possible that the artist was Adele, my own daughter. Who taught her to play like that?
