Page 37 of Pumpkin
The little girl was fucking adorable. She had on purple and green leggings under a pair of shorts, a pair of sneakers, and a black shirtwith orange, sparkling letters announcing her to beDaddy’s Little Pumpkin. She had dark curls and olive skin, and her eyes… They reminded him so much of his own mother’s.
Pumpkin recognized the woman holding the little girl’s hand. He’d seen her around, though he wasn’t positive of her name. Seriously, maybe he should bring up his name tag idea to the next Town Council meeting. And was that a fucking bearded dragon on her shoulder?
He was about to turn back to Dosia, just thinking the mother and daughter pair to be patrons of the store, when suddenly the little girl put on a burst of speed. “Mommy!”
She ran around the counter with such familiarity that Pumpkin knew this wasn’t some prank or joke, but routine. Her little school backpack was so loose on her that it bounced up and down on her bottom as she raced to her mother.
To Dosia.
Her mother was Dosia.
Pumpkin had been punched before. A lot. Both in and out of the ring. He’d known plenty of shock and pain throughout his thirty-four years. Even after his accident, he never thought he’d receive such a gut-punch as when he had found out that Cheryl was pregnant withhisbaby.
Until now.
His grip on the counter tightened as he fought to keep his balance. His cane hung uselessly from his wrist as he stared.
Dosia leapt down from the chair, which spun at her actions and showed him his own jacket hanging over the back of it. She’d wornhis cutto work today. But Pumpkin felt no triumph at that knowledge as he watched Dosia crouch down to greet the little girl.
His brain was trying to do math as his lungs desperately tried to remember how to breathe. Hereyes… Those features, that fucking shirt… It was like being drunk and trying to do abstract algebra. His brain kept short circuiting.
But it was the expression on Dosia’s face when she looked at him that sealed the deal. It was a look of fear as she stared at him over herdaughter’s shoulder. He expected it was a look a guilty criminal would wear when finally cornered by the police.
Betrayal washed through him, and he hadno ideawhat look was on his face as he stared at his daughter.
His daughter.
Call it instinct, call it father’s intuition, call it fucking divine intervention, he didn’t care. But he knew as surely as he knew his own name that this little girl washis.
Dosia held her body to the side as the little girl gripped her neck. It was an angle one would use to shield their child from potential danger. As ifhewas a danger to his own child.
The other woman walked around the side of the counter as if she didn’t have a care in the world. She held her hand out to him. “You must be Pumpkin. I’m Calliope, Dosia’s aunt.”
Pumpkin’s gaze kept flying back to the little girl. He wanted to know her name. Was she healthy? Happy? His eyes flicked from the woman’s hand to his daughter, who was staring at him with his mother’s eyes, back to the woman’s smiling face, back to his daughter’s innocent smile, to the woman’s easygoing expression… Finally, good manners broke through his shock and forced him to raise his hand to meet hers, even though she had had it lifted to him for an unusually long amount of time as his eyes moved back and forth like he was watching a tennis match.
His slow brain finally registered one fact. Did the woman sayaunt? There was no way. She looked even younger than Dosia. Maybe their family had some weird aging gene and they all looked younger than they were.
“How old is she?” He had no idea how he found his voice. It was rough and scratchy like he’d swallowed a handful of sand, but the question was out.
“Me?” Calliope asked, a light chuckle. “I’m twenty-five. Don’t worry,” she said, dropping Pumpkin’s hand. He hadn’t even realized he was still holding it. “We get this all the time. I was an ‘oopsie’ baby, so while I am two years younger, biologically, Iamher aunt.”
Pumpkin shook his head, not caring about her parents getting iton late in life. “No, her.” He looked back at his daughter. “How old is she?”
“JJ,” Calliope helpfully supplied. “Juniper Jacqueline, but we call her ‘JJ’. I don’t know why, but I thought it was cute and everyone else just caught on.”
Pumpkinreallyneeded Calliope to stop talking. BecauseDosiashould be the one talking. She should be the one telling him about their daughter.
JJ. Christ, what the fuck was going on here? Had she known about SJ before last night? How? JJ was clearly older, buthehadn’t known. He’d named SJ after himself. Seth Junior. He’d never even contemplated he had another child, a daughter, out there in the universe, living a life without him, and that her nickname wasalsoher initials.
Realizing that he was talking about her, JJ’s head suddenly perked up and she held out her hand to him, fingers spread. “I’m five! I love my birthday and want one every day, but Mommy says I have to wait until May to have it again. I’m in kindergarten! My teacher is Mrs. Burke. She’s really, really nice. And this is my mommy and this is mygrrrrreat-aunt,” she said, emphasizing the word like Tony the Tiger. “I have my Grandma Solstice and my Grandpa Marmot too. They’re actually my mom’s grandma and grandpa. Mine died! But Grandma Solstice says she’s too young to be a great grandma, so she’s just my grandma. IloveHalloween. Don’t you?” She pulled back in Dosia’s grip enough to show Pumpkin her t-shirt again, and his stomach sank as those words took on new meaning. “Aunt Calliope said she couldn’t find one that said I was ‘Great Aunt’s Little Pumpkin’ so she got me this one instead!”
Then the little girl, JJ, cocked her head at him. “Who are you?” Like she hadn’t just spilled her entire life’s story to him.
Pumpkin just stared at her, this innocent little girl. All he could think about was what he’d missed. From her birth until five minutes ago, he’d missed it all. Her first words, her first tooth, her first laugh, her first smile, her first walk, her first run… Everything. No more. Not a single second.
Anger rolled through him, only adding to the betrayal he alreadyfelt. His eyes met Dosia’s, and fuck him, because her reaction was to take astep backand to hold JJ tighter in her arms.
Pumpkin’s fists clenched, making the old wood counter groan. “She’s mine.” There was no question in his voice. It was a statement, plain and simple.
