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Carson lets out a laugh. “Charly isn’t her boyfriend…”
Evie finally catches his eye, and he stops, quietly sets down his fork and puts his hands in his lap.
“He’s what then? Herhusband?” I direct my question to Evie. She’s the one who should have told me this a long time ago.
Adam wraps a protective arm around her, but sends me a sad smile, and I realize he knows who this Charlie is too. I look all the way around the table, but no one meets my eyes.
“Are you serious, Evie? I’m the only one who doesn’t know?” I stand and toss my napkin on the table. “This may be hard for you to believe, but I really cared about her. Still do. I know how crazy that sounds when we only knew each other a few weeks, but it’s the truth.” I grab my coat and head for the door.
“Seb!” Evie follows me. “Wait!”
I stop and turn back to her, ready to let her have it, but Adam is standing behind her. His tight jaw and warning glare are enough for me to rein in my anger.
“Whatever you think about me, I didn’t deserve to be kept in the dark by any of you.” I shove my arms into my coat and reach for the door, but Evie blocks me.
“You’re right, but you told Hope you didn’t want kids. That’s why she left.”
Evie watches me, waiting for her words to sink in, but it takes too long for my brain to process what she’s said.
“Charly isn’t a boyfriend,” she says carefully. “Charly is her daughter.”
Chapter 2
Hope
The gray blue of early dawn slips through my curtains as I peek into Charly’s bed to make sure she’s still sleeping. She has her thumb in her mouth, and I gently pull it from her lips, the future cost of braces in the back of my mind. The cost of everything is always on my mind, even if Charly is only three. There are already so many medical bills, and there likely always will be.
But Charly loves to suck her thumb, and as soon as I set her hand by her side, she blinks her eyes open. I lean closer so she can see the outline of my face. Recognition slowly washes over her, and a dreamy smile crosses her face.
“Mama,” she whispers and holds up her arms for me.
“Good morning, baby,” I whisper back as I pick her up, and she snuggles into me.
Mom will be frazzled with Charly up so early, but I’m grateful for the few minutes I get with her before my packed day starts.
Even though I’d love to climb into bed with Charly wrapped around my neck to try to get her back to sleep, there’s already noise upstairs from my brother and sister getting ready for school.
So, I carefully lay her down to change her diaper. She lets out a short, tired cry when I strip off her cozy pajama bottoms and her legs are exposed to the chilly air, but it’s one less thing for Mom to do. Hopefully, Charly will take an early nap for her.
By the time Charly has on a clean diaper, she’s wide awake, and ready to move.
“See, Mama, see?” she asks crawling away from me.
“Hold on, Charly. Let Mama find your glasses.” I scoop her into my arms, then find her tiny glasses on my dresser. I fit them over her head, and as soon as they’re on, she breaks into a wide, happy smile.
“Hi, Mama.” She pats my cheeks like she’s seeing me for the first time.
This happens every time I slip the strap over her head and adjust her glasses over her eyes. She wakes up to the world around her with wonder and awe, ready to explore.
I love her curiosity, but it doesn’t make getting her dressed easy. After flipping on the light, I carry her to the closet so she can pick out what to wear. I’m not surprised when she points to her favorite striped dress and proclaims, “Pink!”
“Again? What about this one?” I pull out a blue jumper Mom bought Charly and loves for her to wear, but Charly scrunches up her nose and shakes her head.
For some reason, this little act of mutiny fills me with pride, and I mumble, “That’s my Charly-girl.”
She’s been a fighter from the minute she was born eight weeks early, and I don’t ever want her to lose that spirit. She’s going to need it.
After she puts on her dress, she insists on wearing her red ladybug rain boots, even though snow boots would be a better choice. But her occupational therapist says letting Charly make choices and vocalize them helps her developmentally. So does letting her try to put on her own clothes and shoes, even though this triples the amount of time it takes to get her ready in the morning.
