The After of Us (Judge Me Not #4)(13)

I give her a couple of apple slices I wisely packed in my carry-on for a snack.

“I can’t find my coloring book.”

I dig one out from the bottom of her backpack.

“Not this one.”

Ugh. “Lily, your other coloring books are in your suitcase, along with the rest of the luggage we checked.”

“Where’s my suitcase?”

I count to ten. “I just told you where it is. In the cargo hold, with everyone else’s checked bags.”

“What’s ‘checked’ mean?”

“Lily”—I hand her some crayons—“just color, okay?”

“My favorite blue crayon isn’t with these ones.” She scrunches up her face, holding the offending Crayolas aloft. “I can’t color without my best crayon, Daddy.”

More digging in the backpack, till I finally find the damn blue crayon. “Here,” I say.

“Nooo! Not this one!”

I keep digging, holding yet another blue crayon out to her. “Is this sky-blue the one you want?

“Yes.” She shoots me an adorable grin. “Thanks, Daddy.”

“You’re welcome, Lil.”

I sneak in an eight-minute nap. And then: “I have to pee.”

I walk Lily to the lavatory in the back of the plane, and ask when we reach our destination, “Are you okay with going in there by yourself?”

Lily nods. “You wait out here, though, okay?”

“You got it.”

Despite her needing a lot from time to time, like today, Lily is surprisingly self-sufficient. She used the bathrooms in the house just fine, even dragged a stool from the corner of the powder room attached to the guest bedroom she was staying in so she could reach the sink to wash her hands after she was done.

And, I’m proud to say that last night I scored my first dad victory when I convinced Lily to take a bath. She refused to let me stay in the room, though, so I was mindful to make sure the water in the tub remained low. I waited outside the door in case she needed me, but she was a trooper. Lily came out with pajamas on and everything, although her top was inside out and her hair was all tangled. I let her keep her shirt on wrong, but spent twenty minutes combing gently through her blonde locks.

I smile now at the memory. Despite some bratty moments, she’s a sweet kid.

Something pulls at my heart, and I can’t deny that it’s going to suck to leave her. But it’s best she stay with Chase and Kay this summer, since I won’t be around enough. Who knows, though? Maybe I could fly in on weekends to visit with her.

When we return to our seats, Lily contents herself with coloring in her book. I’m amazed at how well she stays within the lines. I notice, on some pages, someone has added extra detail in the spaces where there’s nothing to color. Just a few simple flowers and basic trees here and there, but damn if the lines and proportions aren’t spot-on.

I point to a close-to-perfect daisy. “Who drew that?” I ask Lily.

“I draw it,” she says, without bothering to look up from where she’s intensely coloring a bluebird.

“Wow.”

Lily must be like me and Chase. We both have crazy-good talent when it comes to creating art. It looks like she’s definitely inherited that particular Gartner gene, as it’s showing up in her drawing at an early age.

Speaking of all things Gartner, I was surprised this morning to discover Cassie gave Lily my last name. I found her birth certificate in a pocket on her suitcase when I was searching for her ID.

Shit, to think for five years this little girl has been walking around with my name, and I didn’t even know she existed. I swear if I were older than twenty-two, I’d seriously consider a vasectomy. But, as it stands, Lily’s pretty cool, and I may want to make her some siblings someday.

“Daddy, I have to pee again.”

I sigh. Then again, I think I’ll put that make-her-some-siblings plan on the back burner.



A few hours later we’re in Ohio, cruising in our rental car, closing the gap between the airport and Chase’s house.

Oh, hell.

With each passing minute, my stomach churns a little more. I know I’m a dick to thrust Lily on my brother unannounced. I can’t worry about it now, though. We just drove through the little town of Harmony Creek and are nearing Chase’s house.

“Are there really little kids like me where we’re going?” Lily asks.

I glance back at her in the rearview mirror. She’s in the car seat I remembered to buy and check with our other luggage at the airport. Lily is peering out the window at the verdant landscape. She must be mesmerized by all the gently rolling hills and sprawling farmland. Lily has only known the desert—brown terrain and cacti—so I’m sure she feels like she’s on another planet right about now. Good thing she’s young and adaptable.

“Yes,” I reply. “There are two little kids at the house where we’re going. I told you that already. Remember, I said Uncle Chase and Aunt Kay have children around your age.”

“Uh-huh.”

I’ve told Lily all about Jack and Sarah, repeatedly. She knows they’re her cousins and she’s excited to meet them. But she continues to question if they’re really real.

That makes me wonder if Cassie was in the habit of telling Lily there’d be little kids at the places where she dropped her off, only to have our daughter discover she was stuck with adults.