Page 49 of Smitty

The truth hit me so hard my knees felt weak.

All those years. All those nights. All the tears.

All the moments lost with Anslee. Because of one stupid stunt. I was overcome with emotion and started to cry. “We made such a mess of everything.”

“We certainly did... I don’t know what I was thinking. I was stuck in my head and let myself believe you were done pretending we could ever be something.”

“I wasn’t pretending, Brayden. I wanted a life with you, but when I saw you with her....”

“I had nothing, Brooke. Just you, my truck, and a crap job that barely kept the lights on.” He shook his head. “You deserved better than that. Still do.”

“It didn’t matter how much money you had. It never mattered to me.”

“It should have.”

“I can’t change what happened back then… And I can’t give you back the time you lost with Anslee, but I will do everything I can to make this right.” I tried to keep my voice steady as I added, “For you and for Anslee.”

He turned away from me again, letting everything I’d said sink in, and after a long while, he finally looked back to me and said, “Tell me about her.”

His voice was barely above a whisper. I looked up at him, unsure I’d heard him correctly, but when I saw that curious look, I knew he was asking about his daughter. “Her name is Anslee Grace.”

“Anslee.” He inhaled a quick breath. “I like that. It suits her.”

“I thought so, too. Grace was my grandmother’s name, and it just seemed to fit.”

“It’s perfect.”

“What about your folks?” he continued. “What’ve they had to say about this?”

“They weren’t exactly thrilled, but they love Anslee and visit when they can. You know how it is with the military. They’ve moved twice since she was born, and now, they’re in Vietnam until next fall.”

“Hate Anslee doesn’t get to see them more.”

“Me too.” I smiled, brushing another tear from my cheek as I told him, “But she’s good… She’s the happiest little girl. She wakes up smiling almost every morning… She loves building blocks. My heavens. She’ll stack them as high as she can, then clap for herself when they come crashing down. It’s the cutest thing.”

“I bet.”

“She’s just so proud of herself.”

It was easy to talk about her. I was so proud of her, and I absolutely adored her. So much so, I got a little carried away and almost forgot everything else. “She loves music, any music, and that goes for commercials on television or the radio… It doesn’t matter. She starts bouncing the second she hears it.”

“What else?”

“Uh, well… she loves stories… She can’t get enough of books. She’s always dragging one over to me, and when I read, she listens to every word.” I smiled at the thought. “Right now, she’s into puppy dogs and bears.”

“You spoil her? Surely not,” he teased.

“Oh, I most certainly do. Every chance I get.” He laughed, and the sound filled a place inside I didn’t realize was empty. “But she deserves it… She’s such a good baby.”

“She talking yet?”

“Oh, she talks all day long. I can understand a little of it, but I swear, she thinks she’s having entire conversations. And they are all very important.”

“She sounds perfect.”

“She is.”

I went on to tell him how she loved chasing bubbles in the backyard and playing in water, which meant bathtimes took way longer than they should. Then, I told him how she’d crinkle her little nose when she saw something she didn’t like and how she didn’t go anywhere without her favorite monkey.