Carolyne Aarsen - Unexpected Father

She had heard a commotion in the hallway and, curious, had stepped out just in time to hear a baby crying. Then she saw the little girl in Denny’s arms and heard him calling out to someone named Deb.

The baby was screaming now, batting at Denny with her hands.

Denny looked as if someone had punched him in the stomach. He leaned against the doorjamb like a sailor on a storm-tossed boat clinging to a mast.

Pity rushed through her at his confusion.

“Yeah. No.” He grabbed his head with his free hand, tousled his long, thick hair, then shook his head.

The child’s howls were piercing. She flailed, arching her back, looking wildly around as if seeking a familiar face. Denny patted her back with one huge hand, looking completely at a loss.

Big, fat tears spilled down the little girl’s cheeks and her sorrow caught at Evangeline’s heart.

Without thinking, she took the little bundle of brokenhearted humanity out of Denny’s arms and held her close.

Then she caught a whiff of something unpleasant.

“She needs a clean diaper,” Evangeline said.

Denny dragged his hand over his face and looked down at the bag lying at his feet.

“Deb said something about diapers in here,” he mumbled, his eyes flicking from the bag to the empty hallway as if hoping this Deb person would return.

“Give me a minute,” Evangeline said, rocking the child as she walked back into her store. It was almost closing time anyway, so she locked up and turned the sign over. She’d get the lights later.

Then she walked back through the quiet store, the little girl’s sobs subsiding somewhat.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Evangeline cooed, holding her close as she walked back to the apartment. Denny was still standing in the hallway, looking as stunned as he had a few moments ago.

“Let’s get her cleaned up,” Evangeline said, cutting him a quick glance. “Bring the bag to the bathroom. I’ll take care of this.”

Sticky hands clung to her and Evangeline’s heart stuttered as she held the little girl close. Poor little person, she thought, clearly remembering the times she’d gotten dumped, in this very building, on her aunt’s doorstep upstairs when her father decided it was time to go.

She had been a lot older but often just as upset.

“It’s okay. It’s okay,” she murmured, rocking the baby as her sobs slowly subsided into hiccups. Then, when she took in a last, shuddering cry, Evangeline gently pulled back, her hand on the little girl’s shoulder.

Chocolate-brown eyes, the same color as Denny’s, stared back at her, tears still sparkling on eyelashes as long and thick as Denny’s.

“This can’t be my baby,” she had heard him yell. But in spite of his protest the little girl bore a striking resemblance to him.

“Here’s the bag,” Denny said from behind her.

Evangeline nodded, gently laying the baby on the counter. “How old is she?”

“I think she’s eighteen months.”

“You’re not sure how old your baby is?”

Denny lifted one hand in a helpless gesture. “I knew nothing about her till now.”

“And her name?” she said, keeping focused on what was at hand.

“Ella.” Denny heaved out a sigh, leaning against the doorjamb, watching as Evangeline unzipped the stained sleeper.

“Does she have any other clothes?” Evangeline asked, making a face at the sight of the equally stained onesie underneath the sleeper.

“Deb said there was some in the suitcase,” Denny muttered. By the time he returned, Evangeline had filled the tub with water and had dealt with the dirty diaper. The sleeper and onesie she had tossed into a pile.

Ella was quiet now, her unblinking eyes flickering from Denny to Evangeline. Back and forth, back and forth, as if trying to figure out what she was supposed to do with these two strangers.

Evangeline looked around for soap and was surprised to find a bar already set out.

“Do you have a clean towel?” she asked.

“Yeah. Um. I’ll get it.” He pulled open a cupboard door and Ella turned her wide eyes to Evangeline as if seeking answers to questions she couldn’t articulate.

“Hey, little one,” Evangeline said, cupping the warm water and pouring it over her body. She shot a glance over her shoulder at Denny, who hovered in the background, his hands shoved into the pockets of his blue jeans, looking puzzled and concerned at the same time.

“So why do you think she’s not your daughter?”

Denny blew out a sigh. “Deb said my name is on the birth certificate. But Lila and I were married for five years and she never became pregnant. I thought she couldn’t have kids. But if she’s eighteen months old, as Deb says she is, maybe. She might be.” He blew out another sigh as he stepped closer, as if to get a better look at his daughter.

Evangeline felt her initial reaction to Denny had been justified. No hero material here.

She finished washing Ella, who was quiet now, which made Evangeline even more concerned than her outraged sorrow had.

“Can you hand me the towel?” she asked, pulling the plug in the bathtub.

A thick yellow towel appeared over her shoulder. She wrapped it around Ella’s shining little body and patted her dry.

“Do you have the bag of clothes?” she asked, turning to get up. But the weight of Ella sent her off balance and she stumbled.

Denny caught her by the arms, steadying her. His hands were large and warm and solid.

She looked up at him, surprised to see him staring down at her, a peculiar light in his eyes. Then he blinked and Evangeline wondered if she had imagined it. He released her and stepped aside.

“The suitcase with the clothes is in the living room,” he muttered as Evangeline walked past him. “I picked some out.”

Ella was quiet as Evangeline set her on the floor beside the suitcase, then sat, cross-legged, to dress her.

“I don’t know if the clothes are okay,” Denny muttered, hovering behind her. “Wasn’t much to choose from...” He let the sentence trail off, as if unsure what to say.

Evangeline choked down a laugh at the sight of the tiny blue flannel shirt and blue jeans he had laid out on the floor. Exactly like the clothes he favored.

She found another onesie and some socks among the sparse offering of clothing and made quick work of putting another diaper on Ella and then the onesie. Settling the little girl on her lap, she wrestled her feet into the socks, then the blue jeans. Then she worked the shirt onto the now-squirming little girl.

By the time Evangeline snapped up the shirt, Ella was leaning away from her. She elbowed Evangeline in her chest as she scrambled to her feet. She fell, quickly pushed herself upright, then toddled over to an empty box in the middle of the living room and started pushing it.

Her hair was a mess of damp curls. Evangeline would have to wait for Ella to settle down before running a brush through them.

“She seems happier,” Denny said, dropping into a chair beside Evangeline, resting his elbows on his knees.

Evangeline pulled her knees up, wrapped her arms around them, her skirt puddling onto the floor around her legs. In contrast to her wails of a few moments ago, Ella now made no sound at all, seemingly content to push the empty box around the floor.

But happy? Evangeline doubted it. The little girl had a look of adult resignation on her face. She didn’t even so much as look at either Evangeline or Denny, her entire concentration on the box.

“So now what?” Evangeline asked.

Denny heaved out a sigh and Evangeline shot a quick look his way. He was staring at Ella, her dirty onesie and sleeper dangling from his hands, still looking as confused as when she’d first walked in on them.

“I have no idea.”