Another Man's Child

He’d allowed his sterility to shake his confidence in himself to the point where he actually thought that if he didn’t have what it took to make a child, then he didn’t have what it took to care for one. But being a father wasn’t about perfection or the ability to do everything. It wasn’t even about biology. It was the willingness to struggle, to worry. It was the intense need to provide. To protect. The willingness to give up one’s own life, if need be, for the little being dependent on him.. Being a father was about loving. And somehow this tiny baby snuggling against him so trustingly had known how much he loved her even before he’d known it himself.

LISA SAT UNMOVING in her chair, tears streaming unchecked down her face as she waited for Marcus to turn around. She wanted to get up, to go to him, but she was trembling so much she wasn’t sure she could stand. So she sat. And waited. For what seemed like hours, but was probably only a couple of minutes, while Marcus held his baby.

He turned around slowly and Lisa choked on a fresh wave of tears as she caught her first glimpse of her big strong husband holding their tiny daughter in his hands for the first time. Marcus’s palms were resting one on top of the other, supporting Sara’s body, but it was his eyes that told her they’d finally found their dream together. His eyes were glistening with tears-and awe.

He walked toward Lisa slowly, lifted the baby away from his chest, kissed her tiny head and slowly lowered her into Lisa’s arms.

“I’m a father.” His gaze met Lisa’s briefly before going back to the baby in her arms. He reached out and ran one finger lightly down the baby’s cheek, as if, now that he’d finally held her, he couldn’t touch her enough: “I’m a father,” he said again.

Too moved to speak, Lisa nodded, as cheers broke out around them.

Marcus watched his wife brush her lips across their baby’s brow, and his heart was finally at peace. He’d given Lisa what she’d always wanted, after all. Her dream had not been to have a baby with her husband, but to share one with the man she loved.

And by some miracle, that man was him.

EPILOGUE

THREE-YEAR-OLD Sara Barbara Cartwright was not a happy camper. She kept watching out the window like Mommy had told her, but Daddy’s car wasn’t coming like Mommy’d said it would. She stomped her foot, trying to make someone notice she wasn’t happy, but the sound just went right into the carpet. Mommy didn’t even glance up.

Sara looked over her shoulder at Mommy and Aunt Beth, kind of glad they hadn’t heard her. She didn’t like being naughty. Mommy saw her and smiled and took Sara’s mad away.

“You keep watching, Sara baby. Daddy’ll be home in just a few minutes.”

Sara turned back to the window.

She wondered what “few minutes” was. She’d thought Daddy was coming now.

Aunt Beth had her hand on Mommy’s tummy, waiting to feel the new baby kick. Sara had gotten to feel it first, so she didn’t mind when other people wanted to feel it, too. Especially Aunt Beth. Aunt Beth was married to Grandpa. And she made babies. She made her, Sara. She made her new sister, too. Except she made her new sister bigger than Sara. She was staying in Mommy’s tummy longer.

Sara didn’t remember being in Mommy’s tummy, but she sure wished her new baby sister wouldn’t stay in there so long. Mommy couldn’t play on the floor so much now. And she slept a lot. One day Sara had even seen Daddy have to tie Mommy’s shoe. She wasn’t sure why having a baby in your tummy made you forget how to tie your shoes.

She wished the baby would just come out so she could play with her. It wouldn’t be so hard to wait for Daddy to get home if she had somebody to play with. Sara stuck her thumb in her mouth, staring out the window. She didn’t like “few minutes.” It was making Daddy take too long. -

Then she heard his car. She couldn’t even see it yet, but Daddy drove a really loud car that sounded like the big truck on cartoons. Sara ran to the door.

She started to jump up and down when she heard his key in the lock. “Daddy!” she shouted, barreling toward his legs as soon as the door opened.

“Hi, pumpkin!” he said, swinging her up over his head, and then back down to straddle his stomach. “Did you have a good day?”

She played with the buttons on his shirt. She loved his buttons. They were all the same size. Not like Mommy’s, which changed every time she wore different clothes. “I drawed and made cookies,” she told him, hoping she wasn’t leaving out something else good.

“Cookies? That’s great! Did Hannah help you?”

She nodded. “Hannah buyed me gum,” she told him, remembering the other good thing.

Daddy carried her into the living room where Mommy was with Aunt Beth. He kissed Mommy hello, and his voice got all soft and gooey like it always did when he talked to her. He said hi to Aunt Beth, too, and then carried Sara with him into the kitchen. They were going to have cookies.

Really, he was going to have some. Mommy wouldn’t let her have any of her own because they would spoil her dinner, but Daddy would share his with her. Daddy’s cookies didn’t spoil dinners.

“You promise to eat all your dinner, pumpkin?” he asked her as he reached into the cookie jar.

“Yes, Daddy.” She always had to finish every bite so she’d grow up big and strong.

Mommy came into the kitchen just as Daddy popped the last bite of cookie into his mouth. Sara giggled, trying hard to keep her own mouth shut so Mommy wouldn’t see the cookie in it.

“What’re you two doing out here?” Mommy asked.

“It’s a father-daughter thing,” Daddy said. Sara wasn’t sure what that meant, but she was glad she had it with Daddy.