Chapter 2 - Maddie asks if Daddy still loves her
The first thing I did after the reception was not call a lawyer.
I went to Maddie.
She was in the upstairs library sitting on Laura Bennett’s lap.
Her shoes were off.
Her pink dress was wrinkled.
Her face was wet.
When she saw me, she climbed down.
“Mommy.”
I opened my arms.
She ran into them.
My cheek hurt when her forehead touched it.
“Why red?”
“Daddy hit Mommy.”
Laura closed her eyes.
I would have preferred to tell Maddie less.
But she had seen enough adults lie that evening.
I said:
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“He was very upset and made a bad choice.”
“Because me?”
“No.”
“Because I’m not his?”
There.
Five years old.
Already organizing herself around an adult’s cruelty.
I sat on the carpet.
“Maddie, listen to me.”
She looked at me.
“You did not make Daddy angry.”
“But he said—”
“Daddy said something terrible.”
“Am I his?”
That question required care.
Grant had been her legal father since birth.
He signed the assisted-reproduction consent.
His name was on her birth certificate.
He had raised her.
But I was not going to answer a biological question with a lie.
“Grant is the daddy who has raised you.”
“Is he my blood?”
She knew that word from Evelyn.
Of course she did.
“No.”
Her lip trembled.
“Then who?”
“We used a special doctor to help me have you.”
She looked confused.
Good.
Five-year-olds do not need a fertility lecture during a family crisis.
“Does Daddy love me?”
I could not answer for Grant.
That hurt.
“I love you.”
She started crying again.
“Does Daddy?”
“I think he does. But he has to show you that with how he behaves.”
That was the safest truth I had.
Then Maddie touched my cheek.
“Daddy bad?”
I said:
“Daddy did something bad tonight.”
Specific.
Always specific.
I had no idea yet whether my marriage was over.
But I knew one thing.
May you like
I would not teach Maddie that loving somebody required pretending their worst action never happened.
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