Daddy's Desperate Little Girl (Wounded Daddies 7)
“Yay!” Lena says. “I can’t wait for him to meet Joyce.”
“Me either,” I say. “Have you heard from the agent yet?”
“Not yet,” she says. “But it should be in the mail today! I’ll check it when I get home.”
“Wonderful!” I say, “and I’m proud of you, little girl.”
“Thank you, Daddy,” she says. She’s quiet for a moment, then she asks, “Daddy?”
“Yes, Princess?”
“Thank you. I mean, thank you for helping me be confident enough to start writing again. I never thought I’d be able to succeed at anything again.”
“I’m happy to help, little girl, but you should give yourself credit. You’re the one who wrote an amazing story and found the courage to share it with the world. I couldn’t be prouder of you, princess.”
“I love you, Daddy,” she says. Then she gasps. It’s the first time she’s said that. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry! I wanted to tell you that in person!”
“It’s okay,” I respond. “I love you too.”
“Really?” she says.
“Really, really,” I reply.
She squeals on the other end, and a moment later, Rollie and Joyce join in. I laugh, and when the squealing dies down enough for me to speak, I say. “I have to wrap up here in time to meet Carl for lunch, so I’m going to let you go, but I’ll see you later, okay? I love you, Princess.”
“I love you, Daddy,” she says, then hangs up.
I clear away the rubble of the wall I’ve removed and put my tools away before leaving for the day. Peter is staying a while longer, so I wave at him in his workshop on my way out. He returns my wave then turns back to his work.
I drive toward the restaurant where I’m meeting Carl for lunch. I feel as though I’m floating on a cloud. I knew Lena loved me, just as I’m sure she knew I loved her. Still, hearing it for the first time is a special feeling nothing else can quite compare to. The pain, fear, and uncertainty I felt when Tina left me are gone, a relic of the past. I have my forever little girl, and everything is perfect.
I reach the parking lot and step out of my car when my phone buzzes again—another text from Lena. I smile and open the message. My smile quickly fades when I read it.
They rejected my novel. I’m a failure. I’m a stupid, stupid failure, and I’ll never be good enough for anything. I sent everyone home. They thought I was a writer and I’m just a loser.
I send Carl a quick text that I will be missing lunch and briefly explaining why. Then I start the car and drive to Lena’s house.
I have to knock three times before she answers the door. Her eyes are red and puffy, and I can tell she’s been crying. She looks at me and hangs her head. “Hi, Waylon,” she says.
I don’t say anything for a moment. She looks so sad and vulnerable that I want nothing more than to take her in my arms and tell her everything will be okay. That’s not what she needs right now, though.
“Little girl,” I growl. “You will call me Daddy, and you’re in big trouble.”