Pirate Smile

“How are you feeling?” Holly offered me a carton of chicken-fried rice but I shook my head.
“I’ve definitely felt worse,” I split apart a pair of chopsticks and passed them to Delilah. She was sitting across from me at the table, still afraid to get close. “About last night—I’m sorry. I mean, I don’t understand you right now and all of this, well, I don’t really fuc—, er, get this either.”
Holly glanced at Delilah, who seemingly had no interest in our conversation. Her eyes were on the little pile of fortune cookies.
“Not until you’re done with your plate.”
Holly stood up and walked into the kitchen. I followed her.
“I feel like an ass.”
“I expected it,” Her lips disappeared into a thin line. “I know you hate hearing it, but that’s what you do. When things don’t immediately go the way you want them to you…throw a tantrum.”

Eh. I couldn’t really argue with her there.

“There is a lot about this that won’t be easy. Just think what your mother is going to say, or your brothers. Yesterday, and all the bad days, will be cakewalks compared to the adjustment you’ll have to make—if you still want to make it.”

Delilah pinched a green pea and licked the insides off of her fingers.

“I think I do.” That was the best answer I could give her—a maybe. Sure, that afternoon I’d felt something paternal but I was starting to wonder if I really wanted my life to revolve around play dates and sticky fingers.

“Well,” Holly bit her lip. She looked pretty conflicted herself. “Don’t make this about us then, make it about the two of you.”
“Are you going to tell her,” I looked back at Delilah as she tried to sneak a fortune cookie into her lap. Holly caught her and pointed at her plate. “You know, who I am?”
“Not yet,” She looked up at me and for a brief second I was reminded of the time we climbed onto the roof of my house with a bottle of booze. “Do you want me to?”
I sighed. A part of me thought that Delilah would like me better if she knew—that it would turn this wading into a cannonball.
“I don’t want her to be disappointed.”
“She would never be disappointed with you.”
I laughed.
“Don’t be too sure about that. I think you have some regrets.”

Holly stopped. She looked down at the floor as she twisted the ring on her delicate hand.
‘No,” her voice was strong. “I don’t.”
I felt my face flush—I hadn’t been talking about Delilah.
“Hol, I didn’t mean—”
“I know, but I still don’t.” She rubbed my arm. “Remember that.”

…

“So, explain something to me.” I looked over at Delilah as she waited anxiously for me to take my turn. Her eyes kept darting from the game piece in my hand, to my face, and back to the game board. “If I take the…Rainbow…Trail I will get to the Candy Castle faster, but going through the Molasses Swamp and the Lollipop Woods will make me lose a turn?”
“Yep.” Her fingers danced atop the deck of cards impatiently.
“Wha—is there like, a strategy or something? Who is Gramma Nutt?”

After a series of awkward apologies, Delilah and I shook hands and made up. Delilah requested that I not take her for ice cream or shout “strange words” at her; this, of course, was relayed by Holly.

It had been a little over a week since that incident of a day and I was really starting to dread leaving for home. Hell, I kept having to remind myself that Holly’s little apartment wasn’t my home. I’d gotten used to having the two of them around, and I knew I would have to fight to make it permanent. Fight with Holly and fight with myself.

If it were up to Delilah, I think she would be OK with everything. She didn’t know who I was to her and she didn’t exactly blossom into a chatterbox overnight, but she was finally at ease.
Holly convinced me to give the one-on-one thing another try and I’d been watching Delilah while Holly worked ever since. So maybe we didn’t start off on the right foot, but we were making progress. We literally spent an entire day laying in front of the speakers listening to Holly’s iPod. It didn’t seem to matter to Delilah that she couldn’t understand what was being sung; she just hummed right along, tapping her toes and her fingers, and occasionally kicking her feet incredibly fast if the music had a power solo. I loved that my kid was strangely amused by singing along to Led Zeppelin’s “The Immigrant Song”, let alone the fact she knew the song in the first place.
Her favorite color was teal. I asked her if she meant aqua and she gave me a Holly look and said, “No. Teal.” She quietly explained to me that her favorite color used to be purple but “all of the other girls at the playground liked it too”. At one point I had to ask Holly if she was really only four years old.

Delilah just stared at me. She had no idea what the hell a strategy was.
“Can I pick a card now?” Her small voice wasn’t that much louder than a whisper. I couldn’t believe this little mouse and I shared any sort of DNA. She was so timid, unlike anything I had been at that age.
“Uh, yeah. Go for it.” I chuckled a little, shaking my head.
She moved her gingerbread piece a few spaces ahead of mine and watched me draw another card. Her hands clasped over her mouth when she saw the character. A hiccup of a giggle left her mouth.
“Gloppy the Molasses Monster?” I turned my game piece over my hand and pretended to be stumped. “So where do I go again?”
“To the Molasses Swamp!” She giggled softly, clearly enjoying her soon-to-be victory.
“What if I don’t want to go to the swamp?” I propped myself up on my elbows and waited for the response. Holly said that Delilah was a stickler for the rules, which was definitely something we were going to have to work on.
“It’s on the card, Jared!” She was so revved up from my losing a turn that she was still practically rolling with laughter. When she said my name, I tried interchanging it with something different in my mind and I literally gulped. This could have been just another rainy afternoon for any other father and daughter.
“Are you sure?” I hid the card. “I didn’t see anything.”
“It’s right there,” Delilah hooted as she pointed at where I stuffed it in my shirt. I quickly pulled it out and stuffed under her bed. Laughing, Delilah scrambled to reach the card. However corny I was being, I didn’t care. I was making my kid laugh instead of cry. After she finally tired out from trying to swipe my card she collapsed onto her back next to me, breathing heavily. I watched her for a quick minute, marveling at the caramel color of her hair.
She smiled at me and I couldn’t help but smile back.
“Do you live here?” She rolled onto her side, pulling at the tip of her polka-dotted socks.
“Do I live where?” I propped myself up on my elbow. “In the city?”
She shook her head and pointed to the ceiling.
“In your apartment?”
Of course she was wondering what the hell I, a stranger, was doing in her home. I was there when she got up in the morning and when she fell asleep at night.
“No, I don’t.”
“Oh.” Her eyes dropped back to her socks.
Oh. What did that mean?
“Do you want to?” Delilah looked back up at me, twirling her hair. She was going to be a heartbreaker.
“Do I want to live here?”
Jesus, she was starting to sound the voice in the back of my head.
“I think I’d steal your room if I could,” I poked her stomach and she giggled. “I’d like to sleep with all those animals.”
Smiling happily, Delilah nodded her head in agreement.
If it were that simple.

…

While Holly and Delilah were having bath time—their words, not mine—I checked my voicemails. Caleb left several in regards to when I was coming back and whether or not I realized we were headlining at “fucking Bonnaroo” in “two mother-fucking weeks”. One was from Nathan, telling to give Holly a kiss for him. Matt had sent me a text asking if I was “getting any”.
I rolled my eyes at all three of them.
As much as I was starting to want her to meet her uncles and the rest of my family, I was scared shitless. What would they say? This amazing little person was the textbook definition of a bastard, which wasn’t exactly something to be proud of where I was from.
But if I could fall in love with her so quickly, why shouldn’t they?
“Knock, knock.” I looked over my shoulder to where Holly was standing in the doorway. She had splotches of water soaking her shirt and the end of her ponytail looked like it had been dipped in the tub.
“Hey.”
“Del’s all tucked in.” She rocked back and forth on her heels, looking past my shoulder at the cityscape. “Did you want to say goodnight?”
“Would, uh, would that be weird…you know?” My stomach tied itself into a monkey knot.
“She asked.” The corners of Holly’s lips hitched into a small smile. “All you have to do is actually say ‘goodnight’—that’s it.”
I nodded sheepishly, tracing a scratch across the railing with my fingernail. It didn’t seem too difficult.

Delilah was nestled against her pillow, shrouded in sheets and blankets. She clutched a pretty rough looking hippopotamus to her chest. It looked like it was missing its left eyeball. When she saw me in the doorway, her eyes lit up. I guess I had been doing something right after all.
Not quite sure what to do, I knelt beside her bed. I vaguely remembered my parents tucking me in; most of the time I was trying to avoid going to sleep at any cost.
“Are you going to be here tomorrow?” She fumbled with the hippo.
“Of course.” I watched a smile overcome her face and I felt the same. When I looked back at Holly, I realized she had stayed outside the door. I could still see her though; her head was in her hands.
“This is Rita,” she held up the stuffed animal.
“Where did Rita’s eye go?”
Delilah shrugged her shoulders and thoughtfully kissed the empty eye socket.
“Alright, kid.” I sighed. “You’ve got to go to sleep, so I can.”
“You’re going to sleep now too?”
“Yes m’am.” She shifted underneath the covers. “I’m tired.”
“I’m tired too.”
As I was about to stand up, Delilah held out her arms. My body froze. Again I looked over my shoulder for Holly but found nobody to tell me what to do.
A slight panic set in, but it wasn’t like I could just leave the kid hanging there.
She wrapped her arms as far around my stomach as she could and buried her face in my shirt.
“I like you,” she whispered.
Pushing back some of the hair that had fallen out of her sloppy ponytail, I smiled down at her unsure of everything. How was this all happening? There were times that I’d felt good, really good. I’m talking high out of my mind, living the dream good yet there I was feeling like my heart was going to explode because a four-year-old had declared her affection for me. I grinned uncontrollably, chuckling even, because I was absolutely amazed.
“Yeah?” She nodded, her head bobbing up and down against my chest sending her hair into a static mess. Giggling softly, she tried blowing it out of her face. “Well I like you too, Delilah.”

Quietly closing her bedroom door, I walked slowly out to the living room. I could see Holly’s legs as she stretched out on the couch. My face felt flushed. I hadn’t been lying. I really did like Delilah. My decision had been made.