Maybe it was, because nothing had ever come easily to him. Every luxury he claimed as a man came from hard work, sleepless nights, and cut-throat determination. He proved that sometimes success comes from grit as much as it arrived from privilege. But goddamn, he was tired.
He’d always pushed himself to the brink of collapse, always thinking he had nothing left to give. Then Addison was born.
Having a daughter meant acting out of love not resentment. Being a father required him to tap into something pure he wasn’t sure he possessed. It couldn’t be genetic because his mother wasn’t the loving sort, and his dad left before he ever had the chance to meet him.
Most days Rhett faked parental confidence, but eventually, as his daughter grew and revealed this incredible little person with thoughts and opinions and an astounding ability to love, he discovered that caring for his child, loving her, putting her first, and assuring she never wanted for anything, well, that was the easiest job he’d ever had. Challenging, sure. Exhausting to the point of lunacy, especially when she was an insomniac infant. But taking care of her was also so easy.
And it made him wonder, if being kind and patient for his flesh and blood came so naturally to him, why had his own parents struggled with the task? Perhaps it was him.
No matter how hard he’d pushed himself, Addison brought him purpose and he pressed himself twice as hard to secure her a safe and happy life. He still struggled to decide stupid things like scented or unscented fabric softener and he felt like a true criminal whenever he accidentally got shampoo in her eyes, but most days he was able to guess the best choices. And every day she smiled up at him as if he himself had hung the moon and stars.
No one had ever looked at him that way before. Parenting was supposed to be selfless, but he selfishly did it for her adoration. Even on the days he screwed up and left her sleeping on an office chair with nothing but wax noodles and peanut butter and jelly in her belly, she still made him feel like he was doing the best job in the world.
He wanted to give her a better world. He started small, as the mayor of a little, hole-in-the-wall town, but aspired for bigger things. Perhaps he’d run for state representative, and move into bigger branches of government, earn higher pay, and fund the best education money could buy for his brilliant daughter.
But larger government jobs couldn’t be run strictly from his small town, and he’d have to travel. Addison would be older by then, but still young. Childcare was a necessity, and he struggled to determine if his ambitions were purely for her benefit or if the sacrifice she paid for his success might somehow cost them in the end.
Being a father created an endless tug of war between providing financial stability and a paternal presence. While men and women successfully acted as single parents all the time, playing the role of both mom and dad, he couldn’t help wishing Addison had both presences in her life. Hiring governesses seemed the closest substitute for the element of female nurturing he didn’t have a clue how to provide.
Jasper Falls had been a backwoods town five years ago. Hell, the town hadn’t even had its own name. It had been numbered as merely a district in Center County, Pennsylvania.
When he moved to Center County, he saw potential. Everything about this place screamed dusty, small-town charm. It was just hidden under the stench of buck-lure and diesel fuel.
It was after midnight when he finally made it to the kitchen and constructed a sandwich. He wasted no time on condiments or lettuce, too distracted by his open laptop on the counter. The office had just launched the new website design for the upcoming campaign, and he wanted to review it carefully before anyone else.
Sitting at the table, hair still damp from a shower and bare feet pressed to the cold floor, he slouched in his lounge pants and skimmed the site.
Women were his key demographic. He appealed to any fanciful natures and sold an image of old world, country charm. His analytics told him they were also the residents that spent the most time reading his website, so they really amped up the storybook appeal.
The male residents grumbled about unwanted changes but ultimately listened to their wives, but Rhett still had to work to appease everyone. Gaming laws and fishing tournaments could go a long way on winning their favor, so he also had to play those roles as well.
Once they rebranded District 23 into the enchanting town of Jasper Falls, citizens began to trust his vision and believe that such a fantasy might actually have a shot of becoming a reality. But the locals never let him forget they were the sort who put great credence in a man’s word, didn’t take kindly to strangers coming in and changing too much, and that this was a place that believed Sundays were for God, football, and homemade cobbler.