This Could All End in Tears

Dear Ava,

Let me just say that giving birth to a child isn't exactly fun. It's a messy, painful, scary, stressful situation, especially when you're the father and all you can do is stand there while your lover hurls obscenities and accusations at you. Never in my life had I felt so helpless before- and only once afterward, so far. But amazingly, well worth the sleepless nights and screaming in the end. Maybe one day you'll find that out for yourself.

At first all I could think about was your mother and her pain and her safety. But when I saw you for the first time it was like I'd lived my whole life on the dark side of the moon and I had just woken up to see the sun rising for the first time. You were a beautiful, warm, wriggling little bundle, and when I held you I never wanted to let you go. I just wanted to wrap you and your mother in my arms forever and protect you from the filth and shit that life really is outside of these few incredible moments.

I know you're skimming over this.
Maybe you're asking yourself why I wrote this letter, why I'm being all gooey and talking about this. I imagine I wont let you read this until you've got your first PhD so maybe you'll be old enough and smart enough(I could always tell you were going to inherit the genius genes from your mother) to understand what I'm trying to say even though I hardly know.

I think I just want to say how much I love you because I know I'll see you again. I know things will turn out alright in the end, like they always do. And if you're reading this and you're totally confused, then good. I've done a good job as a daddy and you can burn this letter.

Love,
Your Father,
Brian Haner

Earlier....

The sky overhead was a perfect unpolluted blue. The sun was shining lightly down on her and the the gentle wind ruffled the leaves artistically. Days like this were usually a welcome relief from a life of violence and crime. Amanda's long dark hair whirled around her, wafting the scent of her mint and tea tree shampoo across her face. A thick list of life experiences told her the peace would be short lived. She had a rotting feeling in her gut all day that was too persistent for any small disaster. After a few years in a job like hers one's intuition became a finely honed tool of the trade.

She thought of the one's she loved, scattered around the globe and gave a final searching look to the expansive gardens of her backyard and the finely aged elegance of her large home. She called to her apprentice, Vince, who was doing push ups by the pond.

"Go clean the rifles and catalog the ammunition." He was a bright boy and only gave a nod before leaving her to mentally calculate the effectiveness of her current security upgrades.

She was a mercenary. Her job put her in constant danger, even when she wasn't working. She'd ran with a few different crews in her day and seen more than one person get cocky, careless, and killed. She wasn't about to end up like them. Her occupation required 100% dedication, 24/7.

She flexed her fingers out of habit, feeling hem itch for a weapon and running them through her hair, trying not to let herself get too tense. She lived by many rules but one of the most important was to never show agitation or anxiety. Emotions in general only made you weaker. After a second more of basking in the serenity she headed inside. Trooper, her massive mountain dog, barked as she entered and fell into step beside her. She rubbed his ears, listening to the little clinks of metal as Vince disassembled one of the rifles.

She started when her cell rang though her apprentice never skipped a beat. She flipped over possible vacation destinations in her mind as she wearily answered.

"Hello?" she asked, sitting on a well padded kitchen stool.

"Amanda?"

"Craig! I haven't heard from you in a month!"

"I had an assignment that kept me from keeping in touch, but that's not important right now," he spoke urgently with his words on the verge of running together. His tone was hushed and low.

"What is it?" Her stomach had turned into a volcano as her jaw muscles locked painfuly. They were both professionals and for him to be taking a risk with his cover and calling her like this was enormously significant. .

"It's the Haners-" As he spoke a few brief sentences Amanda knew her sense of dread was more than justified. She quickly thanked her old friend and hung up. She hadn't realized she'd already punched in the speed dial until the phone was ringing in her ears.

"Pick up you bastard!" she screamed pointlessly. "Pick the fuck up!" That's about when the rhythm of metal stopped and she could feel Vince come to stand protectively by her shoulder.

"Yo, we’re-" The answering machine.

"Hello?" Megan's voice came over the line, a little frazzled, but otherwise fine.

"Thank fuck, Meg! Listen-" but she was cut off by a scream.

-The Night Before-
"Dahddy!" Ava called, flexing her little fingers and pouting her full little lips that were too much like her mother's. The terrible twos were in full affect. "I want up!" she cried, her lower lip trembling and her eyes going glassy for effect. She was sitting on the floor in the living room, already in her bright pink footy pajamas, waiting for her mother to finish making the popcorn for the movie.

Brian rushed from the bathroom, still pulling his white wife beater over his head. He threw his brush on the couch, adjusting the elastic of his boxers and squatting down in front of his baby.

"What's the matter, Pickle? Did you miss Daddy, huh?" He extended his arms for her and she got up, only wobbling a little.

She ran into his embrace squealing, "Yes!"

"Aww," he cooed, rubbing her back gently. "But Daddy was only gone for a little while." She just shook her head as fat little tears rolled down her round cheeks.

"Oh, was I gone a long time?" he asked with a smile.

"Yes."

"Oh, well I'm sorry baby. I'll try not to shower so much, okay?" Ava didn't realize that he was joking and so nodded her head eagerly, giving him a wet kiss on the cheek. He stood with her in his arms, but she screamed in protest.

"Milo!" She reached out her hand to her little stuffed penguin desperately. "No, Daddy, Milo!" He kissed her dark wavy hair and assured her he wouldn't leave her favorite toy on the ground. Her favorite Auntie Manda had made it for her when her mother had still been pregnant, and Ava had never spent a single night of her life not clutching her most beloved Milo.

He bent over and picked it up, handing it to his daughter, and bouncing her a little in his arms to make her happy. She giggled and threw her arms around his neck.

"No daddy! I fall!"

"You won't fall baby girl, your daddy would never let anything happen to his little Pickle." They made themselves comfortable on the couch- Ava cuddling her daddy's chest with a blanket over them both. Brian made sure to leave room for Megan, knowing any second she'd be coming into the living room with a bowl of stove-cooked popcorn just for the three of them.

She fulfilled his premonition, smiling brightly, and crawling on the couch so that she was half facing her fiancé and half facing the television. She picked up the remote, hitting 'play' and then leaning into Brian's side. She put one of her arms over Ava and the other behind Brian so it was like a giant two person hug.

Brian had one of his arms around both of his girls and he couldn't have been happier. Both of Ava’s arms were clutching Milo. The music began playing, the opening scene of Edward Scissorhands, making Ava clap. Milo almost rolled away as she did so, so she grabbed her penguin and crushed it to her again, saying "I sowwy!"

Brian slid his eyes open, the blue screen of the T.V. glaring at him offensively through the darkness. He yawned, trying to move his hand without waking his lover. He checked his watch, the back light illuminating the clock face so that he could see that it was almost 3:30 in the morning.

"Damn," he muttered, clutching Ava to his chest, and making sure she had Milo before carefully standing. He looked over at Megan, slumped in the same position she had been when he was sitting and vowed to be quick about putting their little girl in bed so he could save her from being sore in the morning. He took Ava up the stairs, opened her door and laid her gently in her little toddler bed, checking the railings on both sides so that he could be sure she would be safe while she slept.

He tucked her in, adjusting Milo. He stopped by the door and looked back at her, her little mouth open like an 'o' against her pillow, her hair in two little piggy tails, a very concentrated expression on her face. He smiled, leaving the door open a crack so he could hear if she needed him.

Downstairs, Megan had shifted so she was sprawled over as much of the couch as she could cover. Brian chuckled, picking her up easily and carrying her to their room. He laid her on their bed, noticing that while she had dressed their baby in nightclothes, she herself was still wearing her jeans and belt. He began to undo it for her when she stirred.

"God, Brian, you can’t even keep it in your pants until I’m awake?" she responded, with her eyes still closed. Brian rolled his eyes.

"Baby, you can't sleep in your jeans."

"Who ever said we were going to sleep?” Megan replied with a smirk, as she traced his jaw line.

"Well in that case, I suppose I can think of something to occupy the time," he whispered, crawling over the one he loved and sliding her belt from its loops.