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“My sister Jaime has a cat. He’s kinda evil, but looks cute when he’s sleeping,” Payton says, her words laced with nervousness and uncertainty.
“I like real cats. I want my dad to get me one, but he won’t. He don’t like ‘em cause they tear up his trash and poop in the flowers.”
“One time. I complained about the neighbor’s cat one time and she hasn’t forgotten.” The smile I offer Payton seems to help alleviate some of her anxiety. “Honey, why don’t you go draw me a picture at my desk while I talk to Payton. Then we’ll head home and get something to eat.”
“I want French fries! No, peanut butter and banana sandwiches. Oh, what about pizza?”
Payton laughs at Bri’s menu choices for this evening, but I’m used to her hodgepodge of entrees. “We’ll figure it out on the way home. Give me a minute, okay?”
Bri acknowledges me, but she’s more interested in digging out the paper and crayons that I keep in my desk drawer for times like this. It definitely wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had a surprise visitor at the office in the form of my daughter.
Walking over to the corner of my office, away from my daughter’s all-hearing ears, I turn to find Payton following me. “Listen, I’m sorry you found out this way. It was always my intention to tell you, but lately, every time I started, something got in the way.”
“You have a daughter,” she mumbles, as if trying it on for size.
“Yeah. She’s five.”
“And her mother…” she starts, leaving it an open-ended question.
“Not in the picture. Hasn’t been since Bri was a few months old.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispers, her eyes conveying sadness on our behalf. Her sympathy reaches into my chest and squeezes my heart.
That’s one of the things I love about Payton. Her ability to adapt and roll with whatever situation she’s presented with. Her emotions reflect in the depths of those hypnotic green eyes. She has a hard time masking her feelings, and has a heart that makes it easy to fall for her.
Wait. What?
Slow the horses, bucko.
Love? Did you just say love?
Like. One of the things I like about Payton.
No love. No. Love.
Just like.
“Thank you, but I came to terms with it years ago. It kills me that Brooke will never know how amazing her daughter is, but I can’t dwell on it. I won’t. She made her choice.”
“Daddy, can we go for pizza? She can go too.” Payton and I both glance over at my daughter and she’s smiling up at the woman across from me. Again, with that damn heart squeeze.
“I shouldn’t,” she whispers.
“Come with us.” That statement–three little words–is out of my mouth before I can worry about the implication. I don’t concern myself with how this might confuse my daughter. I realize in the moment that I really want her to go.
“But…”
“I know we have a lot to talk about,” I interrupt. “And we will. I want to tell you everything about her, but not here. And I really want to have dinner with you, even if it’s just pizza and we have an audience. So, come with us. Please.”
Her walls crumble right before my eyes. She wants to fight it, decline the offer, but she can’t. She won’t. Payton and I are in the same boat. No matter how stupid it may be, this thing developing between us is greater than both of us are prepared for. I’ve made my peace and am ready to roll with it. I can tell by the hint of trepidation in her eyes, she’s not quite there. Baby steps, though. Baby steps and patience will get us to where we need to be. I can feel it
And I know she can too.
I can tell by the way she closes her eyes and smiles, and answers, “Okay. I’ll go.”
* * *
I’ll admit the walk out of the office and past Cora was a bit embarrassing. We waited while she shut down her computer and gathered her things to leave, all while refusing to make eye contact. Thankfully, Bri is chatting a mile a minute, filling Payton in on everything about her day. It keeps my mind from wandering back to the scene they walked in on in my office.
