Rugged Daddy

“Sometimes caterpillars do that.” I was trying, but it didn’t look like I was going to get much conversation out of her. I hated it when she felt this down.

“When does it butterfly?” she asked.

“It wraps itself up in something called a cocoon, and then it falls asleep. When it wakes up, it’s a butterfly.”

“I want wings. Wings are cool.”

“They sure all.”

***

We entered Aubrey’s favorite place to eat because, according to her, they had the best macaroni and cheese. We sat down and ordered the same thing we always got when we came in, but her eyes wandered around us, falling on other children at tables and in booths.

I knew that she so desperately wanted to connect with other children, but she just didn’t know how.

The principal wasn’t completely wrong.

I knew it, and that made me furious.

I watched her eyes pan over to another child in a booth next to us, and I turned around. I watched the child feed her little brother a bottle as the parents praised her for doing well.

My heart sank.

I knew she wanted a sibling to share her life with and spend time with. I wished with all my heart I could give that to her. All the money in the world and I couldn't give her the one thing she wanted more than anything else.

How would I even go about doing something like that?

Hello, my name is Andrew—but not really—and my daughter wants a sibling soon.

Do you like mountain homes?

Because we’re running from the fucking Mafia.

Yeah. Great pick up line.

All the shit I’d gone through with my ex-wife had solidified my intent to stay single. I wasn’t opening myself back up to that kind of pain.

I’d loved that woman. She had been my world. I had wanted to fill our New York mansion with children who looked exactly like her.

Now, I thanked my fucking stars that the one child we did have looked like me, down to the brooding stares whenever Audrey looked off into space.

The same stare she had now.

“Rebecca?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you want a brother or sister?” I asked.

She nodded her head wildly as our food was set in front of us.

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“I want a best friend.”

“You know you could have one of those at school,” I said.

“But I want someone for home.”