These Lines Were Never Established

Poking his head out of the mound of blankets piled on his bed he glanced around the room with barely opened eyes. He’d just laid down an hour ago. Who the hell was at his door? He’d purposely taken a few days for himself, no one should be bothering him he was just staring his relaxing period.

The doorbell rang again several times with urgency.

“I’m coming! I’m coming!” He yelled as he began digging his way out of his blankets. “Holy shit, it’s cold.” He grumbled as his bare feet hit the wooden floor. Grabbing a sweater from off his floor he pulled it on while sliding on his monkey slippers. “I’m coming!” He yelled again at the still ringing bell.

Padding his way through his house a loud yawn left his lips. Though it was late at night light still poured in the windows as he managed to stumble into his spacious living room. Turning to the floor to ceiling windows and stared at the white blizzard just beyond the glass.

The snow was pouring down as if god was shaking salt or sugar onto the world. Sighing he spun around slamming into the coffee table. Swearing loudly he stepped over it towards the door now that the doorbell had stopped ringing at the sound of him nearly breaking the iron rod and glass coffee table.

Rubbing his knee lightly as he walked to the door he tried to figure out who would brave a snow storm to bother him. Pausing at the heavy throbbing from his knee he pulled up his plaid cotton pajama pants to look at it.

“Hey.” He breathed childishly at the brand new knot. “That’s a good one from a coffee table.” Laughing lightly he let his pant leg drop and moved to his front door. “Yeah?” He asked as he swung the heavy door open. “Uh…?”

Near the curve of his driveway he could see two bright red tail lights and a small black beat up old Honda GEO that looked and sounded ready to die. Frowning at its distance and the lack of someone before him his head tipped sideways, trying to place who he knew that drove such a horrible car. Tommy drove a piece of shit, but that was a Toyota truck…

“Hed’oh.” Travis’s eyes dropped at the sound of the small voice. Sitting on his front porch was a little girl. She waved at him, placing her thumb in her mouth.

“Hi.” He whispered confused. The little girl had a white piece of paper in her hand as she waved. She held it out to him with large hazel doe like eyes.

Kneeling Travis licked his lips confused as his eyes darted back up to the Honda. It wasn’t there anymore. Scanning the large driveway and yard he couldn’t find it anywhere. Someone hadn’t really abandoned a little girl on his porch had they?

“Iz yeh’ew.” She stated once she’d removed her thumb from her mouth.

“Oh, it’s me?” Travis asked confused taking the piece of paper nervously. She nodded vigorously at him as he flipped the folded paper open.

In fine script his name was printed across it neatly. Licking his lips he unfolded it to find the same neatly printed script on the inside. It was a relatively long letter for how small the script was and fit perfectly onto the single piece of paper.

Glancing back up at the little girl he sighed at what was in his hand.

Dear Travis,
I’ve thought long and hard about this, this letter has been rewritten countless times I can’t even begin to fathom how many ways this letter has gone. And in advance I’m sorry this is falling on you, that this has to come to this.

I want you to think back to the summer of two-thousand-six, the year you made history once again. The year you brought people to their feet in applause and to their knees in shock and aw, and the year you made the impossible possible by making a creation so bold most would’ve feared taking it off the paper even.

It’s also the year you and I met for a brief moment. No, I don’t ask you to remember how we met; I can’t even remember that and I doubt you do if you were anywhere near as drunk as I was. But I do ask you to remember me from the morning after that September day. The scared girl that woke up in your hotel bed, the one you offered your shirt to so she wouldn’t have to do the walk of shame, the girl you offered a warm breakfast and a ride home to out of regret, remorse, and embarrassment. The shy twenty-two-year-old who’d never had a one night stand before. The kid who could, and still can, flip a dirt bike one-hundred-and-ninety-nine plus ways from Sunday but stuttered like a pre-teen around women.

Now that you’ve thought that far back, two whole plus years back, I want to say I’m sorry once more. I don’t know if you remember me or not but I know you don’t remember the cute little girl before you and that’s my fault. I never introduced you two, I should have. I should’ve told you the second I found out, the second she was born. But I didn’t. I didn’t want to disturb you and you perfect life. I figured I could take care of her by myself. I think I did a good job up till recently.

Now I can’t take care of her anymore. Its not money, if it was I simply would’ve asked for that and let you pretend she didn’t exist and you were donating money to me out of sympathy. Money isn’t my problem and I’d rather her go to you than have her go to an orphanage or foster home. I’d feel better know she’s with the man who helped conceive her.

And yes, Travis, I’m sure she’s yours. I wasn’t with anyone at the time of conception other than you on that fatefully drunk night- and yes, that every time I’ve been asked who her father is I’ve lied to keep you anonymous.

Her name is Hayley Marie. If you wish to add your last name to her then I would be more than happy. In her bag in the front pocket are adoption papers, I’ve already signed them if you’d like to adopt her. I would appreciate you signing them before the fourth of January so that it goes through smoothly. It would mean the world to me if you did sign them as soon as possible, but it’s only a simple request. No matter what happens I’ll always pretend you took her in with open arms, even if you don’t.

Hayley is two. Her birthday is April 6th, she was two months early, she’ll be three then and I think she’ll enjoy sharing her third birthday with the one thing she wished for last year on her birthday, her father. Something I couldn’t produce.

She likes to color, and I do mean she likes to color. Leave a box of crayons and an open package of computer paper and an hour later you’ll have more scribbled pictures than you’ll know what to do with. If you’re the man I think you are, you will cherish each drawing as much as I do.

She’s a spunky little kid and she’s smart. She talks a lot now that she knows a lot of words, she miss pronounces most of them but it’s cute in my opinion. You don’t have to teach her to walk or potty train her she figured those both out a long time ago and I’ve been raising her to be a kind respectful little girl- it’s a hard task, I’ll tell you that now. She may barely be two but trust me the girls got more opinions and thoughts than a room full of activists. Shutting her up takes a lot and half the time you’re not going to want to stop her small words and random thoughts.

I know, and I’m sorry, I’ve been rambling but I’ve been putting this off for some time now. And since you’re reading this I finally did what was best for my daughter and am crying my eyes out as I leave her there with the man I’ve followed for over two years but have only known for one day and a drunken night. A total stranger known as her father, but a kind man from what I’ve gathered. Even as you’re reading this, I’m torn between leaving her with you and trying to find someone I know to take her again. No one I know wants her, sadly enough, so I hope you do.

Please, for the love of god, take care of our daughter because I can’t. In three months I won’t be around any more, it’s a miracle I made it to your house and it’ll be a miracle if I make it back. So please, please, please, a wish from a dying woman take care of my little girl, my shining star and pride and joy. Take care of her.

Love,
Ashley Greenee.

Travis scanned the letter again. A soft cute sneeze brought his eyes back up to the little girl before him. Swallowing at her rubbing her bright red nose, eyes squeezed shut as she rubbed it vigorously.

“Hi.” He breathed at her again while taking in her appearance. She was wrapped in a blanket hiding her tiny form but that’s not what Travis was drawn to most. It was her eyes. They were so warm and inviting. “I’m Travis.” He smiled. Instantly he took notice of the tattered and worn out pink JanSport back pack behind her.

“Eyez Hay-wee.” She mumbled nervously.

“It’s nice to meet you Hayley. How about we get you inside where it’s warm, huh?” he asked. Weakly she nodded standing up slowly. “Wow.” He breathed at how small she was. Swallowing he licked his lips and stood as well, picking up her pack back for her.

She waddled past him as he held the door wide open. Sighing he looked down at her. The top of her head barely reached past Travis’s knee. He closed the door behind him and watched as she looked up at him confused, the blanket over her head covering her eyes and small forehead.

“Come on.” He laughed pulling the blanket from off her head gently. Dark brown curly hair, much like his, poured out. For a two-year-old she had a lot of hair. Were two-year-old suppose to have a lot of hair or was that just infants?

Glancing around the room he pursed his lips.

He had no idea what to do. Sure kids were cute and he was good with his friend’s kids but that wasn’t taking care of them. That was playing with them and terrorizing them. Those kids went home at the end of the day. He didn’t have to worry about feeding them, bathing them, tucking them in at night, and…and whatever else came with father hood.