Page 42 of The Photograph

It’s not. It’s just that some men should be barred from fatherhood.

“It’s not, Em. Does he at least give you money for her?”

She scoffs, but her eyes are sad. “No, three weeks ago he asked the judge to lower the amount of child support by half because he lost his job again. It was denied, so he just disappeared. I don’t need to see him, but I thought he’d try… for Sam.”

I hug her. I’ve never liked Tony for her. Or for anyone else for that matter.

Five years ago, the day Emma introduced Cara and I to him, he hit on me. I was so shocked I convinced myself I somehow made it up.

They’d been dating for less than a year and when he cornered me and tried to kiss me, I told Cara, who wanted to punch him. When I told Em, I was terrified she wouldn’t believe me or simply choose him over me.

She confronted him that day and kicked him out of her apartment where he had kind of moved in. A week later, she found out she was pregnant with Sam and when she decided to keep the baby, Cara and I self-proclaimed that we’d be the child’s godmothers. And we’re absolutely smitten with Sam.

When she sniffles, I hold her tight “I wanted her to have a dad, someone who would love her almost as much as I love her, someone who could show her that men aren’t the monsters we had in our lives,” she whispers.

I cup her pretty face. “Em, Tony’s her father, but he’s not the only man who can be her dad. You’ll find someone as strong and as loving as you. Someone who’ll deserve both of you.”

The small noise she makes breaks my heart, so I hold her tighter.

“You think so?”

I’m absolutely sure they will.“Yes,” I whisper.

****

I hop out of bed at 6:00 AM, childproof my studio and the house while butchering Billie Eilish’s‘Bad Guy’on repeat in my earbuds. I set up her sketch table in my studio and check the fridge. Everything’s ready.

At 10:00 AM, I yank my front door open on Sam and Em. My favorite little girl and I squeal before she jumps in my arms, and I cover her adorable face with kisses. Emma grins and shakes her head before she curls her finger under her daughter’s chin.

“Am I invited or is it a private party?”

Sam giggles and her fine blonde curls tickle my nose when wraps her arms around my neck.

I fit her higher on my slanted hip and turn my gaze to her blue one. “What do you think Sammy? Should we say bye to Mommy now and start our magical day?”

Sam nods vigorously as I wink at Emma who hands me a bag and Sam’s car seat. She steps back, her hand on the iron rail.

“Mindy will pick her up around 8:00 tonight. I won’t see you before your trip, but we’ll talk after.”

“All right. Enjoy your day off.” I walk back inside with my warm little bundle.

My time with Sam consists of a lot of giggles, tons of cuddles, and a tremendous amount of running. We go to the park after lunch, and after a couple of hours of slides, sand, mud, and sugar, we go home where I give her a bath before some quiet time.

Her little hand in mine, we make our way to my studio. Sam toddles toward her set up table I piled with new coloring books and a shiny, violent pink metallic box of pencils.

“Ooh!” she coos as she wriggles her way into her chair which is an exact replica of mine I asked John to make for her birthday last year.

I kneel next to her and brush her hair out of her lashes. “What do you want to draw today, Sammy?”

She blinks, taps her forefinger on her chin and I chuckle—Emma does this all the time. “Fish and apples!”

I sit back on my haunches and nod. “That’s a great idea. Let’s draw them together.”

Curling my body behind hers, I place my hand on hers around the pencil to trace a fish and two apples.

I touch my cheek to hers. “Is this good enough?”

“Yah.”

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