Pirate Smile

I didn’t go back to my hotel. Instead, I found myself waking up at the crack of dawn feeling Holly’s head on my chest. I ran my fingers through her hair, focusing on the freckles across her shoulders. She crawled through my window once (or several times) when we were kids—I vaguely remembered letting her in, but I was pleasantly surprised by the sight of her the next morning. I’d always liked watching her sleep; there was the faintest trace of a smile on her lips.
Holly stirred slightly, stretching her arm across my stomach. With the tips of my fingers I delicately traced swirls along her bare skin. For the first time, in a long time, I felt at ease with my life. I was over the drugs, made the money, was in the band—and then I had my kid asleep in the next room and the girl I loved laying in my arms. I pretended, for a moment, that everything was out in the open. My family knew, there was no scandal, we had all moved on. What a good feeling. Soon enough we could have that—there wouldn’t be any more of this awkwardness, or skirting around truths.

In two days I would be on a plane home. I needed more time.

…

She flew in like the Wicked Witch of the West, broom and all. April had planned her attack well—she knew Holly was out, she knew I’d taken over her role as babysitter.

I let her in. After she briefly smothered in granddaughter with kisses, April’s expression hardened. She eyed me as I pressed my back against the living room wall, feeling trapped. April suggested Delilah go play in her room, and after losing a quick argument she shuffled along waving goodbye. Even Delilah knew my head was on the chopping block.

“Michael.” Her tone was sour.
“Hey…Ms. Finn.” I suddenly felt like the gawky seventh grader trying to explain why Holly had been climbing the tree in the first place before she felt out of it and broke her wrist.
“What exactly do you think you’re doing here?”
“I, uh—” I felt like vomiting.
“Do you really think you have the right to just swoop in like this?” She looked at me with blind hatred.
“Hey,” I held up my hands. “I’m trying.”
April snorted.
“She’s my daughter.”
“Is she?” Her voice was getting louder. I worried that Delilah could hear everything. “In four years you couldn’t find time to be her father, what makes you think you can do it now?
“How could I have if I didn’t know,” I grit my teeth. “I’m here now. Holly knows what’s best for that girl, and if she didn’t think it was me I would be long gone.”
“You really think that’s true? I don’t care that you're done with Holly, but if you expect to have some part in Delilah’s life…may your God help you.”
April attacked me like a wild animal I’d usually find out in the woods; viciously, mercilessly.
“I’m going to marry Holly.”
“Are you now?” April stepped back, smirking. “So you’re going to sweep her off her feet again and drag the two of them back to Nashville—is that your plan? You want to put them through all the hell you reap on yourself, your drinking—the drugs?”
My mind suddenly felt foggy. A lump had risen in my throat and my chest tightened.
"Why do you think Holly never told you? You really think it was because you were teenagers? Don’t think I haven’t been checking up on you.” April’s finger stuck straight out at me like a needle on a radar.
“You’re parading around in your little rock band with that smug smile and a cigarette between your lips. How many women have you been fucking, hm? Do you think you can just get away with all of this if you want to be around that child? I do not want her near any of it—you, your brothers, your band, none of it.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” Even I wasn’t convinced by words. She had just laid out all of my insecurities about bringing Delilah into my life. She’d backed me into a corner.
“That’s what I thought.” April shook her head triumphantly, but she’d taken it too far.
“I know I’m the last person you want in their lives and you can hold that against me forever, but I don’t give a flying fuck what you think of me.” I rubbed my temples and pinched the bridge of my nose; she felt like the worst hangover, the worst withdrawal.
“Do not come here and criticize Holly or me for our pasts. You really have no, no fucking clue what you’re talking about. Delilah is the only person Holly thinks about, but do you realize how unhappy she is—do you even give a shit?
“Let’s be honest here. Do you really think you’re the one that can make her happy?” April paused as if she was considering it. “I don’t think so.”

“I think you need to leave.” I nodded at the door, trying to ignore the hollow feeling in my stomach. Blinking away any trace of tears, I turned away.

The door slammed.