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“These are good.” Lincoln looked up at me and gave me a teasing grin. “But you forgot the most important question of all.”
I couldn’t help but smile. I knew his response was going to be something silly. “And what’s that?”
“Favorite ice cream.”
I shook my head, fighting laughter as I pulled a pen from my purse. “How could I forget something so vital?” Handing the pen to Lincoln, I chuckled. “Add it to the list.”
Lincoln scribbled the question at the bottom of my list. He set down the pen and glanced up at me. “What do you think she’s like?”
Amazing. Wonderful. Perfect. I sighed. “I don’t know.” I should know. I should know everything about her, every injury, every fear, every dream, but I didn’t because I’d been a coward and abandoned her when she needed me most.
Lincoln nodded. “I have an idea. Let’s each take a guess. Whoever is more accurate gets a drink from the loser tonight.”
My lips tipped up. “Okay.”
“Ladies first.” Lincoln smiled before taking a sip of his coffee.
“So are we talking about what she looks like, her personality, or her favorite things?” I asked, wanting clarification.
“All of the above,” Lincoln answered.
“Okay.” I pursed my lips in thought as I pictured my daughter in my mind; something I’d done many times over the years. “I think she has my hair and your eyes; my fair skin and freckles, and your nose and mouth. Her favorite color is purple, and her favorite ice cream flavor is cookies and cream. Her favorite subject is science.”
Lincoln grinned, his dimples standing out proudly. “Well, I think she has your hair and hazel eyes. Freckles and a cute button nose like yours. Her favorite color is pink, and favorite ice cream flavor is vanilla. Her favorite subject is reading.”
I didn’t care which one of us was right. Either way would be absolutely perfect. We’d find out in a couple of hours what our daughter looked like and learn about her.
The waitress brought our food, but my stomach was so tangled with nerves that I barely ate what I’d ordered. I managed to finish off the fruit, but only took a few bites from my plate.
“Nerves getting to you, huh?” Lincoln asked as he polished off his biscuits and gravy. Lincoln was the opposite of me. When he was stressed out and nervous, he ate everything in sight.
“Yeah.” I swallowed a lump in my throat. “I’m worried she’s going to hate me for giving her up.”
Lincoln set his fork down and reached for my hand, placing his larger one on top of mine and giving me a reassuring squeeze. “I don’t think she would want to meet you if she hated you. She may be too young to understand our decision now, but she will eventually.”
I nodded, grateful for his support and comfort. “What are we going to tell her about why we gave her up?”
Lincoln thought for a few seconds, then answered, “The truth. We were both too young, and we couldn’t support a baby.”
I furrowed my brows. “What if she asks more questions?”
“Then we answer them.”
I couldn’t help but smile. Lincoln was always optimistic and didn’t let anything faze him. I, on the other hand, over-analyzed everything. “That simple, huh?”
Lincoln leaned forward, placing his forearms on the table. “The way I see it, we don’t want to start our relationship off with lies. We need to be honest with her; she deserves at least that from us.”
She deserved that and so much more; she deserved the world. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
Lincoln sat back, feigning shock. “Did you just say I’m right?”
I giggled, shaking my head.
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you admit that I’m right.”
I scoffed. “That’s not true. You’ve been right plenty of times.”
He chuckled, crossing his broad arms over his chest. “Yeah, but you’ve never admitted it.”
