Wonder With Me (With Me in Seattle 12.5)

“Good idea,” I say with a nod.

“What about your room?” Noel asks.

“What about it?”

“Will I be decorating it, as well?”

“Oh, I don’t think that’s necessa—”

“Yes,” Piper interrupts. “Daddy, you have to.”

“I guess I am,” I say and laugh as we walk across the hall to the master.

It’s a big room, with masculine furniture. I only sleep here, and I haven’t had any guests since Piper came to live with me. Much to my surprise, I haven’t missed having the companionship of a warm woman in my bed.

“I have a plan for this, as well,” Noel says, her eyes shining as she approaches the French doors that match the ones in Piper’s room. “Do you share this deck?”

“Yes, it spans the house.”

“Excellent,” Noel says.

“I don’t mean to tell you how to do your job, but shouldn’t you be writing this down?”

Noel smiles, and it hits me in the gut. “I have a strong memory. I won’t forget. Plus, I have the photos.”

We wander through the rest of the house, and once we’re back in the living area, I act on impulse.

“Stay for dinner,” I offer.

“Oh.” Noel blinks, and if I’m not mistaken, her cheeks flush. “Thank you for the offer, but I need to get back to my office and get to work on this. It’s an unexpected extra project, and I’d like to stay on track, maybe even get ahead.”

“I understand.” Of course.

She’s here to do a job, not entertain you and your daughter, you idiot.

“I should have the design emailed in a day or two,” she adds.

“Daddy, can I watch the iPad?” Piper asks.

“Sure.” I hold a finger up to Noel. “Give me one minute to get her situated.”

Noel nods and watches as I get Piper settled on the couch with my iPad and a cup of Goldfish to snack on.

“I’ll walk you out,” I offer, leading Noel to the doorway.

“Your home is seriously beautiful,” she says as we walk outside and toward her little black car. “How long have you lived here?”

“About six weeks,” I reply, making her stop and turn to me with wide, golden eyes.

“Six weeks?”

I nod and brush my hand through my hair, which reminds me that I need a haircut. But who has time?

“Piper came to live with me two months ago. I had a condo in the city, which was perfect because that’s where my office is, but it’s not a place for a little girl to grow up. She needs a yard and a neighborhood. So, the condo is for sale, and I found this house and moved us in. It was convenient that it came furnished.”

“Wow,” she says. “Well, I’m happy to work on this project for you, and if, after the holidays, you want to do some redecorating, I can help you with that, too.”

Unable to stop myself, I reach out and tuck a strand of her soft, honey-colored hair behind her ear. “Thank you. I may take you up on that.”

She clears her throat and turns to her car. “Okay, then. I’ll be in touch.”

“Drive safe.”

She nods and lowers herself into her car, starts the engine, and pulls away, leaving me standing in the driveway long after she’s gone.

I tip my head back and look up at the sky. The sun is getting ready to set, something Piper and I always watch together.

But for this second, I take a deep breath and wonder if I know what I’m doing.

No. No, I don’t. I didn’t ever plan to be a father. But here I am, doing it every day. One day at a time. Learning one day at a time. Because to be honest, the first couple of weeks were a disaster. I didn’t know what to feed a child, or that she should only get screen time for a bit each day.

I’ve been reading all of the books on parenting I can get my hands on, pouring through blog posts, and calling my own mother for advice.

I walk inside, close and lock the door, and watch silently as Piper sings along with a song that’s playing on the iPad. She’s clutching that bunny to her side, and every once in a while, she pulls up one ear to her nose to sniff.

Roughly sixty days have gone by since I found out that I’m a father, and since she came to be with me.

She’s the center of my world. The best thing I ever did. And I didn’t even know.

Piper glances up and smiles.

“Come sing with me.”

“Later. It’s almost time for the sunset.”

“Oh, we don’t wanna miss it!” She jumps off the couch, runs to me, and grabs my hand, then leads me out to the edge of the patio. “Let me hold you.”

That’s code for pick me up. So I do, and hold her close as we watch the sun slide into the Pacific.