Susan Mallery: Full-Time Father

Hundreds of photographs spilled onto the rumpled sheets. He picked up one at random. It was of an old abandoned barn. The stark light and bright blue sky illuminated every broken board and smashed window. The isolated building looked as if it had been tossed aside without a second thought. Physical pain swept through him as he stared at the picture.

He grabbed another snapshot. Christie smiled up at him. She was caught in a moment of pure joy and he found himself smiling back.

He dug through the pile, looking at photo after photo. All were excellent, some even brilliant in their composition and ability to evoke emotion. Erin was far more gifted than he’d realized.

She pulled on her robe and sat next to him. “What do you think?”

“You deserve the chance to study,” he said slowly. “These are amazing.”

He drew in a deep breath. It would be so simple. Tell her his plan. She could pursue her dream; he would take care of Christie. Everyone would be happy.

He took her hands in his. “Erin.” He paused. Letting her go was the right thing to do. She would be safer without him. He had nothing she wanted or needed.

He stared at her face, then squeezed her fingers. He had the right words now. He could tell her to go.

“Don’t leave me,” he said without thinking. “God, it’s not right or fair to ask you to stay, but I don’t want you to go. Kiki’s right. I am stupid about relationships, but I do know one thing. I love you. I can’t survive without you. But you’re so talented. I don’t want you to give up your dream. You wanted to take classes or-”

She pressed her fingertip to his mouth. Her smile quivered at the corners. “Hush. My dream has always been in my heart. You were right. I’ve been afraid to take pictures. I didn’t need an education. I needed courage. You’ve given me that. You’ve given me back something I’ve always enjoyed. It was never about not having the right training, it was about being willing to expose my vision of the world.”

A single tear slipped out of the corner of her eye. She brushed it away. “Last night I swore I was going to grab on to happiness with both hands, so here goes. I lied to you, Parker. I didn’t just love you for those few hours we were intimate. I’ve loved you for a long time, and I plan to keep on loving you. You don’t have to worry about me leaving, because I’m not going anywhere. We belong together.”

The joy and love tangled together, leaving him breathless with relief. He cupped her face and stared at her familiar features, then pulled her close to him. “You’ll stay?”

“For always.” She reached for the buttons on his shirt and started unfastening them.

He touched her cheek, her shoulders, her breasts, not sure he was going to get everything he’d ever wanted. He was still cautious. The fear lingered, but he knew they could work it out. Later they would talk more about Robin and Stacey, about second chances and taking responsibility. But for now, it was enough to love and be loved.

“You’re sure?” he asked.

She laughed. “Yes, for the first time in my life, I’m very sure.”

Several hours later, they heard a light knock on the door.

“It’s me,” Christie said. “Kiki says I can’t come in yet, but we’re all getting married and going to stay here. We’re going to be a real family.”

Erin snuggled closer. Parker stroked her hair, wondering what he’d done right this time. He didn’t know this much happiness existed in the world.

Then he frowned. “Did I ask you to marry me?”

Erin glanced up at him and smiled. “Not exactly.”

“Will you marry me, Erin? I swear I’ll love you forever.”

She sighed with contentment. “Yes. A thousand times, yes. You’re all I’ve ever wanted.”

“Kiki’s right,” he called to the little girl. “We’re getting married and living together as a family.”

“Goodie!” There was some muffled conversation, then, “I gotta go. The cookies are ready. Bye. Oh, you can’t get married till my cast comes off. I want to wear a pretty dress.”

Her voice faded as the housekeeper ushered her down the hall.

Parker lazily stroked Erin’s breast. “We should probably get up and talk with her.”

Erin rolled onto her back and pulled him down on top of her. “Later,” she murmured against his mouth. “She’s got cookies to eat and we’ve got something of our own to take care of.”

He chuckled and stretched over the side of bed. “Look what I’ve got,” he said, holding up a bright purple condom.

She grinned. “Great. I’ll pull the drapes while you put it on.”

She started to get out of bed, but he tugged her back, trapping her beneath him. He stared at her. “I love you, Erin.”

“I love you. We’re going to be wonderful together.”

“We already are.”

Five years later

The gallery was crowded with the usual opening-night crowd dressed in cocktail dresses and tuxedos. Champagne flowed freely, diamonds glittered as brightly as the conversation.

Erin drew in a deep breath.

“Nervous?” Parker asked.

She glanced up at her handsome husband and smiled. “You’d think I’d be used to this by now, but I’m not. It terrifies me. I always worry that I’ve lost my touch.”

“Judging by the number of red Sold dots on your pictures, I wouldn’t worry about it.”

She followed his gaze and saw that most of the photographs had already been purchased. The relief was sweet.

“Our accountant is going to be whimpering,” she said.

“Don’t worry about him. The money goes to a good cause.”

Erin donated most of the proceeds from the sale of her pictures to a foundation she and Parker had set up to help young unwed pregnant women get support and stay in school.

“Daddy, up.”

Erin smiled as Parker bent over and picked up two-year-old Sam. His miniature suit was rumpled and stained, and bits of cookie clung to his mouth.

“Your son already found the buffet line,” Parker said.

“ Your son needs cleaning up.”

Parker kissed her cheek. “Let me take the monster to the men’s room and I’ll fix him right up.” He strolled through the crowd.

Erin stared after him for a minute, and wondered how she’d gotten so lucky. She didn’t know there was this much happiness in the world. The past five years had flown by.

“This is an important collection,” she heard a familiar but young voice say. “Not only because of the theme but because of the departure from the artist’s usual subjects.”

She turned around and saw Christie talking to an elderly man. Her nine-year-old had grown up. In her taffeta dress and patent leather shoes she looked more like a teenager than a little girl.

She strolled over and held out her hand. “Hi, I’m Erin Hamilton. I see you’ve met my daughter.”

“A very knowledgeable young lady,” the man said and adjusted the glasses perched on the tip of his nose. He was short and squat, with white hair and a beard.

Erin touched her daughter’s shoulder, then glanced at the pictures. Usually she took photographs of children and families, but the collection on the wall was a study of different carousel horses.

“How much for all of them?” the man asked.

“They’re not for sale,” she said and pointed to the small sign explaining that.

“I’ll give you a hundred thousand dollars for all eight.”

“Sorry, I can’t.”

“Two hundred thousand. They’re for my wife.”

Erin stared at the man for a moment. “I can’t sell these particular photos, but I still have the negatives. I would be willing to do up prints for you. Fifty thousand for all eight.”