Chapter 5
Mrs. Parker did not let Daniel inside.
She called Dad first.
Dad arrived twenty minutes later with his lawyer, Mr. Bennett.
Daniel waited on the porch the entire time.
He didn’t complain.
He didn’t knock again.
He just sat on the steps holding the envelope.
Lily stayed behind me.
“Is he really my other dad?”
I didn’t know what to say.
Mrs. Parker said gently, “He says he’s your biological father.”
“What does biological mean?”
I looked at her.
“It means blood.”
She frowned.
Then she whispered, “Like what Mom said?”
I nodded.
Lily grabbed my hand tighter.
When Dad came through the side gate, Lily ran to him.
Daniel stood.
The two men looked at each other.
Nobody spoke.
Finally Dad said, “Daniel?”
“Yes.”
“I’m Ryan.”
“I know.”
Dad’s expression changed.
“You know?”
Daniel looked toward the house.
“Amanda sent me pictures years ago.”
Dad stared at him.
“She told me you disappeared before Lily turned two.”
Daniel laughed once.
There was no humor in it.
“She told me you knew I existed.”
Dad looked at Mr. Bennett.
Then back at Daniel.
“What’s in the envelope?”
Daniel held it out.
“Proof that I didn’t disappear.”
Dad didn’t take it immediately.
“What kind of proof?”
“Court filings. Returned letters. Child support receipts. Emails.”
Dad went still.
“Child support?”
Daniel nodded.
“I’ve been paying it.”
Dad stared at him.
“For how long?”
“Since Lily was nine months old.”
Dad’s face lost color.
Amanda had told him Daniel never paid a dollar.
Dad finally took the envelope.
Mr. Bennett opened it with him.
I couldn’t understand most of the papers.
But I understood numbers.
Hundreds of dollars.
Every month.
Deposits.
Transfers.
Some had Amanda’s name.
Dad looked sick.
Daniel rubbed his hands together.
“I’m not here to take her.”
Lily heard that.
Her shoulders relaxed slightly.
“I just wanted to see her.”
Dad looked at him.
“Why now?”
“Because Amanda called me last night.”
Everything stopped.
“What?”
Daniel nodded.
“She told me you were trying to steal Lily. She said if I signed something saying you were dangerous, she’d let me have visitation.”
Dad stared at him.
Mr. Bennett said, “Do you have that communication?”
Daniel pulled out his phone.
“Text messages and voicemail.”
Dad looked toward us.
“Mrs. Parker, can you take the kids inside?”
I didn’t want to go.
But Lily did.
So I went with her.
We sat near the kitchen window.
We could still see them.
Daniel handed his phone to Dad.
Dad listened.
His face became colder with every second.
Then he handed the phone to Mr. Bennett.
Lily whispered, “Do you think he’s nice?”
I shrugged.
“He looks sad.”
“So does Daddy.”
She was right.
After a while, Dad came inside.
He sat across from Lily.
“Sweetheart, Daniel would like to meet you.”
She looked nervous.
“Do I have to?”
“No.”
“Will you stay?”
“Yes.”
“Can Ethan stay?”
Dad looked at me.
“If Ethan wants to.”
I nodded.
Daniel entered slowly.
He sat on the far end of the couch.
For a long moment he just looked at Lily.
Then he smiled.
“You have my mom’s eyes.”
Lily immediately looked at Dad.
“Do I have your eyes?”
Dad smiled.
“No. Mine are brown.”
“Mine are green.”
“I know.”
She turned back to Daniel.
“Are yours green?”
He nodded.
“Yeah.”
She studied him.
“Mom said you didn’t want me.”
Daniel flinched.
Dad looked at him.
Daniel took a breath.
“Your mom and I had a very difficult relationship.”
“What does difficult mean?”
Daniel almost smiled.
“It means we argued a lot.”
“Like Mom and Daddy?”
Dad looked uncomfortable.
Daniel said carefully, “Maybe.”
Lily waited.
Daniel continued.
“When you were a baby, your mom and I both made mistakes. I wasn’t ready to be a dad.”
Lily’s eyes lowered.
“But that doesn’t mean I didn’t want you.”
“Then where were you?”
Daniel looked at Dad.
Dad didn’t rescue him.
He had to answer.
“I was scared.”
Lily frowned.
“Of a baby?”
Daniel laughed softly.
“Of being responsible for another person.”
“Daddy isn’t scared of me.”
Dad looked down.
Daniel nodded.
“He’s probably a better man than I was.”
Lily thought about that.
“Are you better now?”
Daniel’s eyes filled.
“I’m trying to be.”
I liked that answer.
He didn’t say yes.
He didn’t pretend.
Lily asked, “Why didn’t you come?”
“I tried.”
“Mom said you didn’t.”
“I know.”
“Is Mom lying?”
Daniel looked at Dad again.
Dad spoke.
“Sometimes adults tell versions of a story that make themselves look better.”
Lily frowned.
“That means lying.”
Nobody answered.
She crossed her arms.
“That means Mom lied.”
Daniel rubbed his face.
“I sent you birthday cards.”
“I never got them.”
“I sent Christmas gifts.”
“I never got those either.”
His jaw tightened.
“Okay.”
Lily’s voice softened.
“What gifts?”
Daniel smiled sadly.
“When you were four, a giant stuffed giraffe.”
Her eyes widened.
“How giant?”
“Almost as tall as me.”
Lily looked offended.
“Mom kept a giant giraffe from me?”
For the first time, Dad laughed.
Just a little.
Even Daniel smiled.
Then Lily asked, “Did you send me the purple bike?”
Daniel froze.
Dad did too.
“What purple bike?” Dad asked.
Lily looked at him.
“The one Mom sold.”
Dad’s smile disappeared.
“What?”
Lily shrugged.
“There was a purple bike in the garage when we first moved here. Mom said somebody gave it to me, but it was too small. She sold it.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
“That was mine.”
Lily stared.
“You sent it?”
“For your fifth birthday.”
“You knew where we lived?”
Daniel looked at Dad.
“For a while.”
Dad leaned forward.
“What happened?”
“Amanda moved and stopped answering. My attorney couldn’t locate her. I filed through the court, but the notices kept going to old addresses. Then about two years ago, I found out she had remarried.”
“To me.”
Daniel nodded.
“I wrote to this address.”
Dad stared.
“I never saw anything.”
“I figured she threw it away.”
Dad stood.
He walked into the kitchen.
Opened a cabinet.
Then another.
He looked confused.
“What are you looking for?” I asked.
He didn’t answer.
He went to Amanda’s little desk in the dining room.
Most drawers were empty now.
She had removed her things.
But one drawer was locked.
Dad stared at it.
Then he looked at Daniel.
“Did you send certified mail?”
“Yes.”
“What color were the envelopes?”
“Some white. Later my lawyer used yellow.”
Dad’s expression changed.
I had seen yellow envelopes.
Once.
Amanda had shoved one into the locked drawer when she thought nobody was watching.
Dad got a screwdriver.
Mr. Bennett tried to stop him.
“Ryan.”
“It’s my desk.”
“It was primarily used by Amanda.”
Dad paused.
Then he stepped back.
“You’re right.”
Mr. Bennett photographed the drawer and called someone.
I didn’t understand what happened after that.
Adults started discussing evidence.
Property.
Documentation.
Court orders.
But Daniel stayed.
He didn’t push Lily.
He let her ask questions.
He showed her a picture of herself as a baby.
He was holding her.
She touched the screen.
“You knew me.”
“Yes.”
“I don’t remember you.”
“I know.”
“That’s sad.”
Daniel swallowed.
“Yeah.”
Lily leaned against Dad.
Daniel noticed.
His eyes lowered.
Then he said, “Ryan.”
Dad looked at him.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For being there.”
Dad didn’t answer right away.
Then he nodded.
That evening Daniel left.
He promised he would not show up again without Dad knowing first.
Lily stood at the window watching him go.
“Do I have two dads now?”
Dad put his hand on her shoulder.
“You don’t have to decide anything today.”
She nodded.
Then she looked at me.
“How many moms do you have?”
The question hurt.
“Two, I guess.”
“But one died.”
“Yeah.”
“And Mom is…”
She stopped.
I finished for her.
“Complicated.”
Dad looked at me.
“That’s a big word.”
I shrugged.
“I hear adults say it.”
That night, Dad made dinner.
Fried chicken.
Mashed potatoes.
Green beans.
The same meal Amanda had made for herself and Lily.
He put equal plates in front of both of us.
I stared at mine.
Dad noticed.
“You okay?”
I nodded.
But I couldn’t eat.
He sat beside me.
“You don’t have to finish.”
I looked at him.
“Amanda said wasting food was bad.”
“Wasting food isn’t ideal.”
My stomach tightened.
Dad continued.
“But you never have to eat because you’re afraid you won’t get food later.”
My eyes burned.
“Really?”
“Really.”
I picked up a piece of chicken.
Lily took one from her own plate.
She held it up.
“Same size.”
I held mine next to hers.
Almost identical.
We laughed.
Then Dad’s phone rang.
His smile vanished when he saw the name.
Amanda.
He answered.
“What?”
She wasn’t crying this time.
Her voice was cold.
“I know Daniel came to the house.”
Dad looked toward Lily.
“Who told you?”
“You don’t get to ask questions.”
“Amanda.”
“You think he’s going to help you take my daughter?”
“No one is taking Lily.”
“You already did.”
“You left her here.”
“Because my lawyer told me not to create a scene.”
Dad stood and walked into the hallway.
I could still hear.
Amanda said, “Daniel is dangerous.”
Dad stopped.
“How?”
“He has a temper.”
“Did he hurt you?”
Silence.
Dad’s voice changed.
“Amanda, did Daniel ever hurt you?”
“I don’t want to discuss it.”
“That’s important.”
“I said I don’t want to discuss it.”
Dad looked troubled.
For the first time that day, Daniel’s story no longer seemed simple.
Then Amanda said, “Ask your new friend why he lost visitation.”
Dad looked toward the window.
“What?”
“He didn’t disappear, Ryan.”
Her voice dropped.
May you like
“He was ordered to stay away.”
Then she hung up.
