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“I will be whatever Collins needs me to be,” Heather said. “I’m not convinced it has to be—or should be—a mother. I’ll be there for her regardless. You can be sure of that.”
“I am sure of that.” I kissed those lips—whitened by tension—just to soften them again. “I know you’re here for the right reasons.”
“And what are the right reasons for you?”
“For love,” I said. “For a future with you.”
“Then, I want you to think about Collins’ future.” Heather planted her feet and put her hands on her hips—a battle stance if I’d ever seen one. “And how much she needs to be around peers of her own age.”
“This again.”
“Yes, this again.” Impressively, Heather stood her ground against what I was sure was a mask of rage on my part. “I know how much the idea of preschool upsets you and how insecure it makes you feel, but I wouldn’t bring it up again if I didn’t think it was important.”
“I’ll tell you again that I don’t think you understand what you’re proposing,” I said. “I would need her security detail present at every moment. The very institution would have to be researched back to its establishment. Every teacher, student, and staff member would have to be researched and vetted, and someone would have to prepare a summary of those reports to tell me why it’s safe enough for my daughter to leave the security I have provided for her these past four years.”
“Graham, I know you would move heaven and earth for Collins.” Heather hesitated only a moment before perching in my lap, rubbing my arm. She was trying to comfort me, to steel me for the blow she had yet to deliver. “Do so now, so she can experience what every child needs to experience to be as healthy, happy, and successful as they can be. If you think those are the things that would make you feel better about her attending a private institution for preschool like I originally proposed, then do it. I know you have the resources and manpower and connections.”
“I have everything I need,” I said. “The only thing standing in the way of progress when it comes to this is me.”
“What else are you afraid of?”
“Everything. Of Collins being hurt or taken, disillusioned, bullied, injured, stymied, or changed.”
Heather’s laugh was a welcome wind chime ushering me back in a cyclone. “Your daughter is going to change, Graham. That’s the fact of life. We all change, probably in ways our parents don’t always like to see. Make sure you’re giving her the support and resources she needs to be the best version of herself.
“And believe me.” Heather stroked the line of my jaw, not minding the stubble that had sprung up over the course of the day. “The best version of Collins is the one who has been tempered by the individuals around her. She needs friends, role models, and enemies, even, who can show her right from wrong. That’s what we’re all supposed to be doing at that stage.”
“Are you sure you’re not just trying to get my daughter out of the house?” I asked, only half-joking.
“Of course I’m trying to get your daughter out of the house. She needs stimulation, challenge, and adventure.”
“I just need her to be safe.”
“She will be. Just as safe as any of her other classmates. Safer, still, with the security detail that I know isn’t a negotiation.” Heather cocked her head at me. “Does your daughter know the people on her security detail?”
“Sort of.” I looked away so I couldn’t see Heather judge me. “Sometimes, they play with her at the park if there’s no one else around. Except I tell them to only take her to parks where there is no one else around.”
“Guess what? You’re just like every other parent who has ever existed. The only difference is you actually have the tools in your possession to either keep your daughter from developing into the person she should be or help her realize goals and opportunities you might have never dreamed of.” Heather smiled. “You’re a lucky man, Graham, and Collins is a lucky girl. Not every child is as privileged and loved and well cared for as her.”
“Sheltered, you mean.”
“Every parent wants to shelter their child from hurt. You’re no different.” She laughed. “Quit pretending to be.”
Collins finally headed out for her first day of preschool—an institution I had ordered exhaustive reports on, right down to the blueprints. She had a teacher she loved—one with a clear background check—and classmates she played with.
I had a list. I also researched the families and analyzed and assessed every threat.
You could chalk it up to what I did for a living. Of course, Heather probably chalked it all up to paranoia and my lack of trust in anyone who wasn’t within my immediate circle.
“I do not think you’re paranoid,” she protested when I brought it up. “I think you’re uniquely able to check in on everything going on, which makes you special. Everyone wants access to the kinds of resources you have so they can make sure their children are going to be all right. Do you know what I actually expect? For you to alert all the other parents with kids in Collins’ class if there actually is a problem with someone and for you to take action to protect everyone.”
It was hard to argue with that because it was true.
Harder, still, to imagine Collins reaching her full potential without Heather’s presence in our lives. I needed Heather to help make my daughter as strong as possible.
18
Heather
