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When we get to Evan’s place, he lets us in and makes himself scarce so we can have a moment with Rory. We all stand awkwardly in the entryway, waiting for someone to speak.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come home, Roar?” Izzy asks with very little conviction.
Rory sniffles. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
"Sweetheart, it's complicated," Izzy says, inching closer. She finally crouches down and rests a hand on Rory’s shoulder.
Rory glances at me as I crouch beside Izzy. She's studying my face, categorizing each feature, with eyes that are far too sharp for an almost eight-year-old. "So, you're my dad? Like, for real?"
I nod, suddenly worried I won't measure up to whatever it is she's looking for. "Yeah. I was just as surprised as you are."
"So, that's why you didn't come find us? You didn't know about me?" She glances at her mom. "All those times Kelsey said my dad didn't want me… she was wrong and you were lying?”
My fists clench at the thought of my daughter growing up thinking her dad never wanted her. Hearing that from kids at school. I’ve come to terms with Izzy’s decision not to tell me, but that doesn’t make it easier to swallow that I missed out on all this time while my daughter was lying awake at night wondering where I was and why I didn’t want her.
Izzy, it seems, has no response for this. She shakes her head and covers her mouth with her hand, attempting to stem the tide of tears that are already soaking her cheeks.
Rory's young face clouds over. “Why? Why didn’t you tell him? Why didn’t you tell me?” She's angry, and she has every right to be. But I can't place all of this on Izzy. She was just a scared kid.
I jump in, placing a hand on my daughter’s shoulder. "One day, you'll understand why, Rory. All that matters now is that we're together. You and I. We don't have to think about the past. I just want to spend every minute with you going forward."
A long minute passes before Rory gives an almost imperceptible nod. "Are we going to be a family? You and me and mom?"
“No.” The word comes from Izzy harsher than I feel is necessary. I scowl at her before I can think better of it. Izzy smooths her hands along her jean-clad thighs. “I meant, I don’t think we should rush into anything.”
Rory frowns, and turns back to me. "We're still having my birthday party at your house, right?"
I glance at Izzy as I nod. "Right."
"Cool. Do I get to stay over? My friends whose parents don't live together get to go back and forth."
"Is that what you want?" Izzy asks.
Rory nods. "I want to stay with Dad, too."
I nod. "Okay, your mom and I can talk about that. We'll figure something out." I try to give a reassuring smile, but I'm not sure it works.
"What do you want to do tonight?" Izzy asks. "Do you want to go home?"
Rory shakes her head. "I want to stay here tonight, with Uncle Evan"
Izzy’s lips thin, I can tell she doesn’t like this, but she doesn’t argue. “Okay, I’m just a phone call away if you need me.”
Evan, who’s clearly been eavesdropping, pokes his head out from the kitchen and says, “Pizza sound good, Rory?”
We leave in Izzy's jeep because we rode together. Izzy doesn’t say much on the short drive to our neighborhood. There are a few cars parked along the street, photographers lingering beside them, waiting for a glimpse of me. I’m used to it, but I can tell it makes Izzy nervous. She navigates around them and pulls into my long driveway. The paparazzi at least know not to come this close to the house.
I turn to her when she puts the car in park. “Well, we could’ve handled that better.”
“You think?” The venom in her voice surprises me. What did I do?
Softer, I try to soothe her by saying, “This might not be how we wanted this to go, but at least it’s out in the open now. That’s something.”
Izzy’s knuckles are white on the steering wheel. “It’s a disaster is what it is.”
“Izzy, we should talk about this.”
She shakes off my attempt to touch her arm. “Not right now. I just want to be left alone.”
