Chapter 4 #2
I grinned as I saw the two little girls waving her over. “Sure, baby, but then I want to hear about your weekend.” She screamed an “okay, Daddy” as she ran back to her friends on chubby legs. My ex, Maxwell, and I shared custody of Libe, and she’d been with him since Friday after school.
Maxwell and I had been married for a year and not in a great place in our relationship when we started the surrogacy process to have Libertad.
I was reluctant about the timing, especially since I’d wanted to adopt, but Maxwell pushed so hard for it I eventually relented.
In hindsight I could see the baby was his attempt at saving our relationship, doing something that forced us to be together.
To make me pay attention.
I’d been working and travelling nonstop back then, first running my company which was expanding at break-neck speed, and then preparing to go public with it.
I agreed because I wanted a child, too, but I didn’t stop my work pace at all.
Eventually Maxwell’s loneliness turned into an affair that broke our marriage.
We divorced a month after Libe was born.
As I looked at her now, talking to her friends, so carefree, it was hard to imagine my life without her.
Things with Maxwell and I were much better now, but they’d been rocky for a while.
He went into a bit of a tailspin after we split up, and it was almost a year before he was in a place where he could be a parent to Libe.
I blamed myself for his state of mind at the time, so I took care of the baby until he could be more present.
It was a hard year for all of us. If it hadn’t been for the help of my mom, Priya, and Maxwell’s mom, I don’t know what I would have done. Having Libertad was worth it though; she was the greatest joy in my life. I bit back a smile as I saw her twirling around and laughing with her friends.
I checked the time and waved Libe over. “Come on, sweetheart.”
She begrudgingly started walking to me as I checked in with her teacher. I grabbed Libe’s little hand, and we started the walk towards our house just a few blocks away right in the heart of East Harlem.
I loved my neighborhood; there was so much energy everywhere.
Three years ago, after my two business partners and I sold our company for more money than we knew what to do with, I bought a renovated brownstone here.
Sanjay and Priya bought the house next door to mine, which had been on the market at the same time.
Heni, the third one in our trio from grad school, got a penthouse just a few blocks away.
I fell in love with Harlem and its history as a Columbia college student, and when I had the chance to settle anywhere in New York City I wanted, Harlem was the spot I picked.
My friends and I were all committed to the neighborhood and being part of the revitalization happening here.
We were also invested in preserving the culture and helping the people who already had roots in Harlem stay in their homes.
To not let gentrification erode the heritage of this part of New York City, which had given this country, this world, so much brilliance.
We were getting close to our street when Libe finally let me know my attention needed to be on her. “Daddy, you didn’t even ask me how my day was at school.” She scrunched up her face to drive home the point that I was very much on her shit list.
“Sorry, baby, I got distracted. How was your day?” I asked as I picked her up and hoisted her on my hip.
“It was good, except for the boys being so mean to us.” I tried not to laugh at how aggravated she looked. There was a full-on turf war going on at that preschool. Every day it was like the Bloods and the Crips over there.
“What happened?”
Libe scrunched her face as she shook her head in disgust at whatever the boys had done.
“Well Mauro was pushing Bella and me on the playground. We told him to stop, but he just got meaner and told us we were dumb.” At this she rolled her eyes, and she could have been my mother in that moment.
She had very fair skin and Maxwell’s green eyes, but her hair was a mass of tight curls.
My mom always said, “Esa cabecita es Dominicana.”
Her personality was definitely from the Dominican side of the family too. “I told him he was the dumb one. Everyone knows girls are smarter than boys.” Priya and my mother had indoctrinated Libe in girl power and feminism since birth. She was not about to let any boy call her anything.
“Mi amor, you know the rule about name calling.” I tried hard to keep a straight face, but her outraged expression made it very hard. “Just because he said it to you doesn’t make it okay for you to do it to him.”
Her dramatic slump was almost too much.
“But, Daddy, he doesn’t even know how to write his name yet!”
“It’s still not okay to call him names, honey; people learn in different ways.”
“Okay, but I don’t like him.” She pouted and again I almost burst out laughing.
“You don’t have to like him, but you do have to be kind.”
“Can I have a cookie when we get home?” She could have a future in politics with those pivoting skills.
“We were talking about name calling. What are you going to do the next time Mauro calls you a name?”
Another eye roll. “I will stand up for myself wespeckfully.”
I gave her a big kiss and she giggled. “Exactly. And yes we can do snack and play when we get home and then Tia Priya and Tio Sanjay are coming over. You’ll hang out with Tia, and Tio and I will work for a bit.”
“Yes!” She pumped her little fist in the air at the mention of time with Priya. “Are they staying for dinner?”
“We can ask them, I’m sure they’d love to.”
“Okay good.” With that she put her little head against my shoulder and stuck her thumb in her mouth. I held her tight as we walked up to our house. Suddenly a random thought popped into my head.
How would Camilo get along with Libe? Would he be turned off by me having a kid?
An image of Camilo and Libe sitting down in my living room playing and laughing came into my mind with such clarity it felt like a memory.
The idea of sharing moments like this with someone, exchanging a look at Libe’s antics, was a yearning I’d not indulged in since the divorce.
I could see it now though, and Camilo’s face was right there, front and center.
This infatuation was getting ridiculous.
As I walked up the stoop to my door I thought about my earlier meeting with Camilo and Melissa. He held himself so tightly, like he was bracing for the world to fuck with him. I knew I’d freaked him out when I’d asked for weekly face-to-face meetings. I wondered if he could tell I was full of shit.
Obviously, I didn’t need that level of involvement in the project.
It was just an excuse to see him again. I wasn’t even sure what my endgame was with any of it, but when I saw a chance to get more time with Camilo—who I thought had disappeared from my life forever last Friday—all I could do was find a way to lock it down.