The Pie Baker

Fresh from the Oven

After the Flood

Later that evening, as I prepared the Pie’s bath, my cell phone rang. I didn’t recognize the number, but knew that it was local, so I answered it. My heart fell at the sound of his voice. “Hey,” he said. How can that one syllable suddenly make my eyes water, my heart pound and my stomach want to empty itself? I heard loud noises and music in the background and determined that he was calling from a local bar. I sighed… knowing that he would never be any different than he was at that moment.

He wanted to see her. He asked me to meet him at his dad’s house, at a park, at my house or anywhere. He just wanted to see her. I told him I thought it was a bad idea. What I didn’t tell him is that I knew he would fall in love with her upon sight and I was afraid he would want to be involved in her life in some way. As I watched the Pie in the bathtub and spoke to her biological father on the phone, my mind raced in an attempt to decide the best course of action. My thoughts were interrupted by his voice…”You don’t need to tell her I’m her daddy,” he slurred.

I thought to myself: You are the LAST person I would want her to think is her dad. But what I said was, “You’re NOT her daddy. You’re her biological father and that’s where the story ends.”

”I have a right to see her,” he slurred.

In a flash, the path I was following in my mind twisted in on itself. I said, “Rights? Your name is not on her birth certificate, you have never shown any indication that you wanted to see her and you have NEVER provided one bit of support. You have no rights.”

“I just want to see her,” he repeated. But he couldn’t say why or what he hoped to accomplish by seeing her.

Just to get him off the phone, I agreed to think about it and told him to call me in a couple of days.

I have not heard from him since.


July 23, 2009 - Posted by | Uncategorized

1 Comment »

  1. He wants to assuage his own guilt. He only has the right to go elsewhere and ponder his own futile existence.

    Comment by Kerri | July 29, 2009 | Reply

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: