Page 19 of Parrish

I don’t think there is anything stranger than being a father of a daughter. One minute you’re ready to have her fitted for a chastity belt, the next you’re walking her down the aisle, giving her hand to a man thirteen years older than her. Just when you start accepting the fact she’s not a virgin and that she’s probably getting more action than you, she tells you she’s pregnant. You immediately forget she’s your little girl who is never supposed to leave you and you wish to see her as a mother. You start thinking of all the ways you’re going to spoil your grandbabies and wonder if they’ll be just like her.

Yeah, having a daughter is something, alright.

My eyes fall to her belly and I try to imagine her further along. If she carries anything like her mother did, it’ll be awhile before she finally starts showing. Brushing her hand away, I lay mine over her stomach and meet her gaze.

“I can’t believe my little girl is going to have a baby,” I rasp, offering her a smile. “She’s going to be gorgeous like her mother.”

“We won’t know if it’s a girl for a while yet.”

“It’s a girl,” I tell her. “I’m sure of it.”

Call me crazy, I am—but, I got a feeling, deep down in the pit of my gut, that I’m going to have a granddaughter. Bending my knees, I make myself level with her stomach and pray the kid growing inside my girl can hear me.

“Hey little girl, I’m your grandpa.”

I never thought I’d like the sound of that and now, here I am wishing, just once, I could hear my grandchild call me grandpa.

“Be good to your mama, wreak havoc on your daddy and always know your grandpa Jack is thinking of you. I’ll be picturing your smile and imagining the sound of your giggles,” I say, giving Lacey’s stomach a gentle pat before lifting my eyes to hers. “Your laugh was always my favorite sound.”

She smiles through her tears and lays her hand over mine.

“I love you, Dad.”

“Love you too, Lace,” I reply hoarsely. “Send me pictures, yeah?”

Unable to find her voice, she nods, and I straighten up, rising to my full height. Our hands fall from her belly and she rushes into my arms. I squeeze her tight and somewhere in the back of my mind, the sound of her childhood giggles fills my ears.

My little girl.

Always my little girl.

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