Cowboy Baby Daddy

“The torch is covered in thin sheets of 24-karat gold. It was restored in 1986 after a massive storm blew through, and they felt the torch of freedom needed a bit more pizzazz,” he said.

“Wait, seriously?” I asked.

“Seriously. And the seven rays on her crown? They don’t signify the seven parts of the country like many people think. They actually signify all seven continents on the planet,” he said. “And there is a date on her tablet: July 4th, 1776.”

“What else?” I asked.

“You can’t really see them unless you get up close, but the statue has broken shackles around her ankles to signify the broken bonds of tyranny the country was established under. And the statue has a name we truncated,” he said.

“What’s the untruncated name?” I asked.

“Liberty Enlightening the World,” he said. “This statue was supposed to be a beacon to the world. A symbol that if we could do it, others could, too. It wasn’t just supposed to bring us hope; it was supposed to bring hope to developing nations that they, too, could climb out of the mire and rise to the top.”

I was looking at him in awe and wonder, but I knew I wasn’t the only one. I could feel people staring at him, hanging onto his every word while we traveled through the water.

“And that concludes the information part of our journey, ladies and gentleman. Thank you for listening, and I hope you join us again sometime,” he said, grinning.

I giggled at him as he finally pulled his eyes from the statue. People around us were clapping and I couldn’t help but join them, and the blush that rose up onto Christian’s cheeks reminded me of his innate charm. I couldn’t help myself… I couldn’t help the shock rolling over my features. I had no idea where he kept the amount of information he knew. He looked around to try and figure out what I was looking at. That’s when I realized he really didn’t know.

He didn’t understand what a marvel he was.

“Everything alright, Stella?” he asked.

“Why did you never do anything with that brain of yours, Christian?” I asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Why have you let your intelligence waste away until a company was forced on you?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” he said, shrugging.

He picked up his drink as the waiter set our food down in front of us I reached out to curl my hand around his other hand, still on the table. I slid my foot toward his under the table, slowly running the toe of my shoe up and down the lip of his ankle. I knew he didn’t want to answer these questions, but I needed to know.

I needed to know why he was intentionally getting in the way of himself.

“Don’t block me out,” I said. “Let me in, Christian.”

“I didn’t want to disappoint my mom. She loved my random facts, so I read as much as I could so I would regale her whenever she wanted,” he said. “But, if I put my intelligence out there and I failed, then I would be a disappointment like my father.”

“Not even close to your biological father,” I said.

“My biological father, while an absolute asshole, started off as a disappointment. He left my mother and couldn’t be the man she needed. He disappointed her, and I didn’t want to be the other man that reinforced that principle.”

He took another long pull from his drink while my hand squeezed his in comfort. He still couldn’t bring himself to look at me, so I decided not to push it. We ate our delicious lunch quietly, though neither of us could finish. I held his hand while we watched the statue pass us by, and his facts were silenced while my gaze took in the whole of the beautiful monument in front of us.

“You could never be a disappointment,”

I said as we pulled back into the harbor. “Not to your mother, and most certainly not to me.”

“I was a disappointment to you my entire life, Stella.”

“You were a little shit my entire life,” I said. “That isn’t the same as being a disappointment.”

We finished our drinks and packed up our leftovers to take back to the room. I could tell Christian didn’t want to be out in public anymore, and I partially felt responsible for that. We got up from our seats, and he took my food, still trying to be a gentleman despite the subject I’d brought up.

But, when we got off the boat I couldn’t help myself.

I slid my hand into his while we walked down the road, our hands lightly swaying at our sides. Even with the sadness that had descended upon lunch, and though I had touched a subject that was sensitive to him, he never made a move to take his hand from mine. He didn’t try to get away from me or close me off, and I flagged down a cab before I turned and looked at him.