Chapter 34 Nate
thirty-four
nate
"Daddy, can you sing the bird song?"
Paige was already tucked into her bed, her stuffed axolotl under one arm, but she was looking up at me with those eyes that could make me do absolutely anything. The "bird song" had been our bedtime ritual since she was maybe three years old, though I hadn't done it in months.
"I figured you were getting too old for lullabies," I said gently, smoothing her hair back from her forehead.
"No. And it's not a lullaby, it's about not worrying." She paused, studying my face with that uncomfortable perceptiveness eleven-year-olds sometimes had. "You look worried, Dad."
She was right. I was worried. Terrified, actually.
In five days, I was going to walk into a courtroom and try to convince a judge that I deserved to keep the daughter I'd raised alone for eleven years.
Against a woman with money and lawyers and a story that would sound reasonable to someone who didn't know the truth.
"Okay, kiddo," I said, settling on the edge of her bed. "But just this once."
I started to sing softly. Three Little Birds, Bob Marley's words carrying the same comfort they had for years.
By the second verse, Paige's eyes were getting heavy. By the time I reached the final line, she was breathing deep and even, her face peaceful in the glow of her nightlight.
I kissed her forehead and whispered what I'd been whispering every night for eleven years: "Sweet dreams, baby girl. Daddy loves you."
In the hallway, I found Tasha leaning against the wall, tears streaming down her face.
"'Three Little Birds,'" she said softly. "Bob Marley."
I nodded, not trusting my voice.
"How long have you been singing that to her?"
"Since she was little. She used to have nightmares, and it was the only thing that would calm her down." I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. "She probably doesn't even need it anymore, but..."
"But you do," Tasha finished gently.
That's when it hit me. All of it, at once. The fear, the helplessness, the crushing weight of everything I stood to lose. The sob that came out of me was ugly and raw, and suddenly I was collapsing into Tasha's arms, years of carefully maintained control finally cracking apart.
"She used to make this noise when she was pretending to sleep," I said through the tears, the words tumbling out in a rush. "Like cartoon characters, you know? 'Zzzzznk-pspspspsps.' And I always knew she was faking, but I never told her because she was so proud of fooling me."
Tasha held me tighter, her hand stroking my hair.
"And in nursing school, I carried this pink and purple diaper bag with glitter hearts on it.
Got it at a thrift store because it was the best one I could afford.
People would stare at me on campus, and I never understood why until someone finally pointed out what it looked like.
But I didn't care. It held everything she needed. "
The memories kept coming, a flood of moments I'd treasured and feared I might lose.
"One time she was on my shoulders, maybe four years old, and she started crying.
Really sobbing. I was panicking, trying to figure out what was wrong, and she kept saying 'my feet are wrinkled.
' Took me forever to realize she meant pins and needles.
" I laughed through the tears. "She didn't know the word for it, so she called it wrinkled feet. "
"Nate—"
"She's everything, Tasha. Everything good about my life, it all comes back to her.
The reason I got sober, the reason I went to nursing school, the reason I get up every morning and try to be better than I was the day before.
" The words were coming out broken, desperate.
"What if I'm not enough? What if the judge looks at Sarah with her money and her house and her stability and decides Paige would be better off there? "
"Stop." Tasha's voice was firm but gentle. She pulled back to look at me, her hands framing my face. "You are enough. You have always been enough. You're the best father I've ever seen."
"But what if—"
"No." She cut me off. "What if nothing. You love that little girl more than anything in this world, and it shows in everything you do.
Every bedtime song, every carefully packed lunch, every science project you've helped with, every tear you've dried.
That's what makes a parent, Nate. Not money or houses or lawyers. "
I wanted to believe her. God, I wanted to believe her.
"I'm so scared," I admitted.
"I know. I'm scared too." Her voice was thick with unshed tears. "But I need you here with me, okay? Present. Fighting. Whatever happens in that courtroom, we'll face it together. All three of us. You can’t do anything stupid. Okay? Please, please tell me you won't."
I recoiled, shaking my head furiously. "No! No, Tasha. I wouldn't do that. I couldn't... not with you here. I couldn't do this without you," I said, and meant it with every fiber of my being. "I love you, Tasha."
"I love you too," she whispered. "And we're going to get through this."
But as she held me in the dim hallway outside Paige's room, both of us could feel the weight of what was coming. In five days, everything we'd built together could be gone.
The only thing we could do was fight like hell to keep it.