Page 89 of RomeAntically Challenged
“My parents argued the same thing. But in the end, it all worked out. The judge finalized the adoption, and I remember my dad saying that his love for me was so big he adopted me twice,” Annie said, surprised that after all these years she still got emotional telling her adoption story. “On the way home we stopped at a diner to celebrate, and my dad asked what I wanted, and I said flapjacks, which made him laugh. He ordered flapjacks for the whole table, and somehow the name stuck.”
“Does he still call you that?” Paisley asked.
“All the time,” Annie said, and Paisley looked as if she’d just discovered where babies came from. “I know, it’s silly, and when I was your age it embarrassed me, and once I told him to stop. Later that night he came into my room and said he called me Flapjack because it was a name between us, it wasn’t on any official papers or court transcripts, it couldn’t get misfiled or lost, and no matter what, it could never be taken away from us. The next day I told him I was okay with the name, but he could only use it at home.”
Annie learned that day that her nickname represented an important part of her story. It was the day her parents stood up in front of a judge and fought to keep their family together. As she got older, she began to realize that her parents weren’t just fighting for their family, they were fighting against society’s views of what constitutes a family.
A piece of paper didn’t make them family. It was their love.
“He uses it everywhere, by the way,” Annie said. “But now I like it. And your dad—I mean Dad One—has a nickname for you. Sweet P, right? So it’s only fair if he gets one too.”
“I wasn’t very sweet tonight,” Paisley said with a shiver.
Annie scooted a little closer and shared more of the blanket. To someone looking on, they would appear to be a couple of friends chatting over doughnuts. But this was so much more.
“You don’t always have to be sweet.” Annie nudged Paisley with her shoulder. “You’re figuring out who you are—that’s hard.”
“Does it get easier?” Paisley asked, and tears lined her lashes.
“I don’t know if easier is the word,” Annie said gently. “The older you get, the better you’ll become at figuring out who you are outside of other people’s expectations and making choices that are right for you. When you get there, then I think it’ll be easier.”
At least that’s what Annie was banking on, that by getting enough distance from all the noise and influences, her choices would suddenly become clear.
“What if no matter who you become, you’re always going to make someone sad,” Paisley whispered.
Annie took the time to choose her words before speaking. She didn’t want to push too hard, but she also didn’t want to wait too much longer before letting Emmitt know that Paisley had gone AWOL.
“Hypothetically, does this situation have to do with a daughter trapped between her many dads?” She slid Paisley an amused look. “Asking for a friend, of course.”
“If I were to tell Dad One that I wanted to sleep at Dad Two’s on his nights, he’d be so hurt. But if I don’t ask, then Dad Two’s at home all alone.”
“Honey...” Annie wrapped her arm around Paisley’s shoulders and tucked her in close. “Those guys have been taking care of themselves since before you were even a thought in your mom’s head. And yes, for two guys who claim they aren’t competitive, they can make the girls onThe Bachelorlook reserved. But when it comes to you and your happiness, from what I’ve seen, they’re a team. They want you to be happy, even if it means they don’t get exactly what they want.”
“It’s hard when everyone’s telling you to be happy but you don’t want to be,” Paisley said, and Annie felt her own tears welling up. “Sometimes I just want to be, I don’t know, nothing. Like, have everything inside just go still.”
“I bet it’s hard to be happy when the people around you are still so sad. It would be even hard to be sad when they’re sad.” Annie had seen Gray at the office. He was clearly drowning in grief. It was hard for Annie, as his friend, to watch. She could only imagine how painful it was for Paisley.
“Have you told your dads this?” Annie asked, and Paisley shook her head. “Do you think that’s maybe why you came here? Even though you’re mad at Emmitt, you don’t have to feel so much here. You can just be?”
Paisley picked at a small tear in her jeans. “He’s really pissed at me right now.”
“I couldn’t love you more for who you are at this exact moment,” Emmitt said, and both Annie and Paisley turned to find him standing by the back door.
He had on the gray sweats from earlier, no shirt, and no ballcap to hide his injury.
“Dad.” Paisley stood. “I was going to tell you I was here. I just needed—”
“Someplace quiet, where you feel safe,” he said, walking toward them. “I get that. I needed the same thing earlier.” His gaze locked on Annie, and “my person” was all she could think.
Which was so far from the truth.
One romp didn’t make him hers. One cuddle on the recliner didn’t make him hers. And just because he was looking at her as if, he too thought, tonight was more than sex, that didn’t make him “her person.”
“And you know what helped?” he said, and Paisley, who was trembling with pent-up emotion, shook her head. “A really great hug. Want to see if it works for you?”
“Dad,” Paisley whined, but walked right into his arms.
Emmitt pulled her so close, she almost disappeared in his embrace. Which was exactly what his daughter needed, because her body started shaking and Annie could hear sniffles.
