The Pie Baker

Fresh from the Oven

The Spectre of Sperm

To him, I was just a way to blow off steam or have some fun. What I ended up being was a receptable for his sperm and the mother of his child. He has never once laid eyes on the Pie or seen a picture of her. In fact, we have had no whatsoever communication since she was born. Today he turns a year older without knowing the most wonderful child to ever grace the planet. His loss.

This does not mean that I have forgotten about him completely. I remember that today is his birthday and that he liked to drink beer….a LOT of beer. He liked my cooking, my bed and my cable TV. I also got him a cell phone that I am still paying for. I’m pretty sure he destroyed when I sent the text message that his daughter had been born.

I see him almost every day in my daughter; her quick temper, the face she makes when shes REALLY angry and her compusion to touch my breasts….but that’s something else, I think.

I also fear eveytime we go out in my town that I will see him or run into him. I wonder when I stop for gas if he will pull up to buy beer, or if I am grocery shopping with a cart full of Gerber Little Snacks if I will see him buying beer. I often irrationally wonder if I will see him driving down the road – drinking a beer!

By some psychotic twist of ironic fate, I happen to live about a mile from his father’s house. He is known to frequent his father’s place whenever the “little woman” kicks him out or if he is just too drunk to drive home. It takes every fiber of my being to keep from turning down that street when I drive by. And I don’t know why….I really don’t want to see him, nor do I want him to see the Pie. He does not deserve the opportunity to know her or even see her. And in some deep, dark place in my heart, I think it would tarnish her – rob her of the innocence she has about him. I am constantly on alert for him so I can hide or flee if I need to.

If she ever wants to know the circumstances surrounding how she came to be, I will be as honest as is age-appropriate at the time. When she is 18, I will tell her the name of the man who helped me make her (if she asks….I won’t just wrap it up in a gift bag and toss it at her!) and she can do what she wants with the information she has. I will not bad-mouth him to her. I will not say to her that he was a loser with no job and no ambition who didn’t care if she existed because he just wanted to get drunk and get laid. Nope – I will not say that. I will not say that she is better off without him and I pray every day that she never knows what kind of man he really is. I don’t want her to think that she’s missing anything…because really, she’s not.

She’s not missing the vulgar and obscene language that would be spouted every 3 minutes, she’s not missing the violent streak that runs a mile wide in that man and she’s not missing Mommy crying every night because she settled for less that what she deserved.

But how can I let that go when he gave me the most beautiful and important gift I could ever imagine? Our one moment of fun (OK, it was a weekend) will last forever in the form of that sweet little girl. In his life, he is greedy, spoiled, self-centered and unfeeling. But in a single moment, without even knowing it, he was generous enough to place within me the absolute love of my life. He is absent from our lives, but he will always be an unseen presence.

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March 24, 2009 - Posted by | Uncategorized

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