Chapter 15: Daddy's Girl

I woke up in Bella's guest room and just chilled in bed for like ten minutes. I was listening to my daughter getting ready for her day. I could hear Emma through the walls, chattering to herself about her outfit, humming some song I didn't know, and asking her mom what she wanted for breakfast. She was serious about it, like only five-year-olds can be.

It was the best sound ever.

"Daddy?" Emma called from the hall, followed by a little knock. "Are you awake? Mommy said not to bother you, but do you like pancakes or waffles better?"

I opened the door, and there she was. Pink dress with tiny dinos, hair clipped back with butterfly thingies. She had a crayon drawing in her hand.

"Morning, sweetie," I said, kneeling down. "I love both pancakes AND waffles. What about you?"

"Both!" she said, super proud. "Just not at the same time 'cause that's too much breakfast! I made a list so you know what we do every day."

She gave me the paper, and my heart kind of hurt. It was a five-year-old's handwriting with stuff like: "Reading after food," "Learning games before midday," "Art in the afternoon," "Stories when you're going to sleep."

"This is, um, really organized," I said, looking at her art. "Did you do this just for me?"

Emma nodded, like it was serious business. "Mommy says I'm... pre-co-cious? It means I think a lot. I wanted to make sure you knew how to, like, take care of me right."

The way she said it just got to me. My daughter was teaching me how to be her dad because she never had one around to learn from.

"Emma, can I tell you something?" I asked, plopping down on the floor.

"Yeah!"

"I don't know much about being a dad yet, but I wanna learn. If I mess up or forget something, will you help me out?"

Her face lit up like crazy. "Really? I can teach you daddy stuff?"

"I'd be so happy if you did."

Emma hugged me tight. It was the kind of hug that made you get why people were all about kids. "This is gonna be SO fun! I have tons of daddy things to show you!"

Breakfast was like a lesson in itself. Emma was really into the pancake-to-syrup thing, and she *had* to cut her own fruit to practice knife skills. Then she just went on and on about the weather, her school project about families, all that stuff.

"We don't have a lot of family stuff yet," she said, carefully making a spiral with her syrup. "It was just me, Mommy, and Uncle Lucas before. But now we can make new things! Did your family do stuff when you were little?"

I thought about my family. My parents thought dinner was like a business thing, and holidays were just for meeting people. "Not really," I said. "My parents were always working."

Emma frowned. "That sounds bleh. Were you sad when you were little?"

She just came right out with it. "Sometimes," I said. "But now I get to do fun things with you, so it's okay from now on."

"Yay!" Emma said. "I have tons of ideas. We can do pancakes on Saturday, special bedtime stories, and maybe learn a new language? I wanna learn Italian because that's where Nonna Elena is from."

Nonna Elena. My daughter was part of a whole thing I had missed out on. The Romano family, Italian, everything.

"I'd love to learn Italian," I said. "What else do you wanna do?"

Emma pulled out another paper. Where did she even get these? This one had even MORE drawings. "I made a list of daddy-daughter stuff on Mommy's tablet."

I looked at the list. It was pretty intense. "Go to museums," "Build stuff together," "Cook dinner for Mommy," "Learn chess," "Visit your work," and of course, "Ice cream!"

"You, like, *researched* daddy-daughter things?" I asked.

"I looked up 'things to do with daddy' and picked the ones most fun and educational." Emma smiled big. "I also watched YouTube to learn how to play games right."

My daughter had been getting ready to train me! She'd been doing research on our relationship!

"Emma, you are amazing," I said, meaning it.

"Thanks! Mommy says I get my smarts from you, but I get my feelings from her. I know how people feel," she says.

The way she just talked about where she got her genes from, it just hit me how much she had thought about meeting me.

"Speaking of feelings," I said, "how do you feel about me being here? Really?"

Emma put down her fork and got super serious. "I feel happy and scared and excited and worried, all at once. Is that okay?"

"Totally. I feel the same way."

"You do?" She looked surprised that grown-ups could feel stuff too.

"I'm happy 'cause I get to know you, excited 'cause you're awesome, scared I'll mess up, and worried 'cause..." I paused. "Because I know Mommy is still mad at me, and I don't want that to mess things up."

Emma nodded, like she already knew. "Mommy gets a look when someone says your name. Like she's thinking about something sad and mad."

Woah. My five-year-old was dropping truth bombs. "You've noticed that?"

"Since I asked about you. Mommy answers, but her voice gets weird. Like she's trying not to break something."

God. Emma was reading her mom like a pro.

"Emma, do you know *why* Mommy feels sad and mad about me?"

She nodded. "'Cause you hurt her super bad when I was a baby, and then you left. It was bad, because Mommy doesn't usually stay mad. She says it's like rocks in your backpack."

My daughter was wise. She'd been figuring out our family stuff, and she wasn't wrong.

"You're right, I hurt Mommy," I said. "I messed up, and it sucks."

"Are you going to hurt her again?" Emma asked.

"I will try super hard not to. But Emma, sometimes grown-ups hurt each other even when they don't mean to. We need to say sorry."

Emma thought about it. "And promise you won't leave again? Even if Mommy's mad?"

That hit me hard. Her biggest fear was me leaving.