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"Look, Giant, the bears."
My mind comes back into focus as we arrive at the bear enclosure. Charlotte lets go of my hand, and she places both her palms on the glass. Her nose is touching it too while she stares at the bears.
"Do you like bears, Giant?"
"Yeah, they're impressive."
"I know a lot about them," she says.
Another smile sets on my lips as I gaze at her. "Tell me what you know about bears," I say with curiosity. Charlotte has been nothing but amazing with her knowledge of animals. She knows facts about animals I didn't know.
She glances at me and starts, "They call baby bears cubs. During hibernation, the American black bear's heart rate slows from fifty-five to just nine beats per minute. Cool, don't you think?"
"Yes, that's very cool." I observe the bears when Charlotte stuns me with another revelation.
"I think my daddy is part bear."
Perplexed by her remark, I turn my attention to her, but she's looking straight ahead. She's biting her lip and fidgets at her sweater. I squat next to her, and without looking at her, I ask, "Want to explain that to me?"
She stays quiet for a moment, then she turns her head and studies me. "Promise you won't tell Mommy."
"I promise, Smarty."
She nods and explains. "I've seen a documentary about bears. It said that once a daddy bear has made a baby with a mommy bear, he leaves and has nothing to do with raising his cubs. My daddy did the same."
God, my heart breaks hearing her say this.
"But I hope my daddy isn't part polar or a grizzly bear. Because they sometimes kill cubs, not knowing they are their own. My daddy hasn't ever met me. What if he comes back, and he accidentally kills me?"
I shoot my body sidewards to face Charlotte when I hear her revelation. She avoids my gaze, so I grab her small hands and squeeze them lightly. Her eyes come up, and when they contact mine, they show a genuine fear.
God, kids should never be afraid of their parents. They should associate parents with feelings of trust and love. When her eyes slide back to the bears, I try to get her attention.
"Charlotte, can you look at me?" When she does, I say, "Do you trust me?"
She nods.
"If your daddy ever comes back, sweetheart, he won't hurt you, not even accidentally. Because he will see how sweet and kind you are. Please, never worry about that."
Charlotte's eyes are glossy, and it hurts me to see her this worried.
"Come here," I say, crouching down. Charlotte's little arms swing around my neck, and she gives me one of the most heartfelt hugs as I wrap my arms around her petite frame. "You'll always be safe, Smarty."
"I wish you were my daddy, Giant."
Her words affect me, and my heart overflows with an unknown emotion.
"I know, sweetheart," is all I can say.
When she lets me go, I stand up. "Let's find your mom and our drinks."
She nods, and when I hold out my hand, she places her hand in mine. As we make our way back to the drink stand, I make a promise to myself. I'll do everything in my power to make sure she's safe. We spend the rest of the day visiting the other animals. On our way back home, we stop at a diner with a large playground attached to it.
After parking, we walk into the small restaurant where an older woman welcomes us and points to a place by the window. When we sit, the server comes over and stops at our table.
"Good day," she says with a smile as she gives us three menus. "What would you like to drink?"
"Emma?" I ask.
