Sunday, 3rd September.

A D D I E

Milo was kind enough to allow me to take Willa out for the afternoon after brunch. He didn't have to do that. What if I was some nut case that decided to steal her and jet off? That would have been a concern to me, but he confidently let me know that he didn't believe I would do something like that, and even if I did, he'd find me.

He was so relaxed and sure of himself when he said that, that I knew he meant it. Willa probably had a chip in her shoes or something. He and Raine are police officers after all. Their daughter's safety wouldn't have been left to chance. Obviously I wasn't going to kidnap Willa so the conversation was ended in good humour and Zac gave me the keys to his truck.

The rain had stopped and the earth smelt fresh. Like damp soil and bark. Whenever the breeze lifted, the tree leaves shook water droplets onto the ground and it sounded like a symphony of nature's finest tunes. Everything felt sharper this afternoon. Clearer. More focused than it's ever been and I know it's because of the little girl walking along the sidewalk beside me.

We'd come into town and decided to head into the library. It was her idea and I didn't argue. There was a common ground here. We both loved to read.

The public library was like a lot of the other local buildings. Large, red brick and inside there were dozens of art sculptures of various items including a brass western woman and an eagle and a little girl reading. We headed for the classic romance section. Willa was in charge. She led the way and I felt light and excited watching her long black hair bounce as she walked.

I was at the library with my daughter.

Surreal. The words kept rolling over in my mind but I kept them to myself. I didn't want to sound weird or possessive. It was enough just to know this information myself and embrace it, allow it to soothe some of the ache that has been keeping me hollow for so long.

"I tried," Willa slipped a copy of Pride and Prejudice off the shelf and waved it at me with a defeated smile. "I just couldn't get through it. The sentences confused me and I didn't know what most of the words meant."

I lightly laughed and gave her an understanding nod. "I get it. The vocabulary in these books isn't really taught in school anymore so I'm not surprised. Even I didn't know what a lot of the words meant. I spent so much time pausing and googling."

That made her laugh as she slid it back into place with her palm flat against the spine. "Did your sister like to read?"

My chest tightened. "Uh no. Not a lot. She did once in a while if something sounded really interesting to her. But no, she was more of a doer. You know? She loved the beach and she loved shopping. Also, she never let age stop her from going to the clubs and dancing. She was obsessed with dancing and dating and singing. She didn't sing well but she loved it."

"She sounded fun."

It hurt to remember that Margo was in love with living and that was stolen from her far too soon. "She was fun. She made lots of little moments fun too, you know? Like, she was so good at making pasta from scratch and after it had been cooking in the water, she'd fish a piece out and fling it at the kitchen wall. If it stuck, it was cooked. Which, a lot of people do, but she made it a game. We had little spots of light that came in from the kitchen window at dusk and those were our targets. We had to hit them with the pasta. That was what Margo was like. She tried to make ordinary moments a little bit special."

She would have been an inspiring mother.

Willa was smiling, her attention all on me. We carried on walking around the aisles while I told her about Margo. Aunt Margo to Willa. That was sweet. I told her about more of our special memories. The ones that we made out of seemingly normal circumstances. Well, I couldn't say we. It was always Margo that created the good times.

We stopped in front of a rack of newly released picture books. The illustrations were beautiful, little fairies that glittered and shimmered on the gloss cover.

"Margo would have loved to have known you," I said, picking up one of the fairy books and feeling my heart fracture a little more than I knew possible at the thought of Margo and Willa in the same existence. "It was hard on her as well when I let you go. Hey, can I read this to you?"

Willa didn't dwell on the topic of Margo, sensing that I wanted to move on. It was hard to talk about how much Margo wanted to keep Willa and how much I couldn't have coped with that at the time. In hindsight, there were a lot of things I might have done differently if I'd known what I came to know later.

"Yes, you can read that to me," she smiled and took my hand so that we could sit on the beanbags in the corner beside the window. There were about a dozen of them spread out.

Reading to my daughter was one of those things that I felt I'd missed out on over the years after I let Willa go. It was one of those simple moments that I felt would have been a beautiful parenting experience. I couldn't explain it, but I wanted to create that moment now. Needed to almost. It worried me, I didn't want to start stepping into the shoes of a parent, but there were things that I wanted us to do together so much.

I sat in one of the beanbags and Willa sat on the floor in front of me with an eager smile and her arms and legs crossed.

"My dad used to read to me," Willa said as I opened the book to the first page.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. But then I started reading books with kissing scenes and he said, Will, I can't do this no more kid."

We both laughed.

"That was okay though because he read kind of slow. I'm a much faster reader than he is."

"Well now I'm feeling a lot of pressure to read this book fast!"

She laughed. "No way. It's different. This is a picture book. You can go slow."

"You're probably too old for this huh?"

She shook her head. "No. I like older books but I can still enjoy a cute picture book about fairies."

I smiled. She was so mature for her ten years of age. I'd heard from a few people that the oldest or only child can often seem older. I sort of loved it. I'm not sure I'd have known how to interact with a little kid. Someone who wanted to build blocks and eat boogers. But that thought alone made me feel selfish. What, I gave her up and now I get to enjoy her at a more convenient age? That wasn't right.

"Addie?"

I startled and life came back into focus. I had the worst habit of zoning out. I smiled and started reading. As I read, a little brother and sister hovered a few feet from Willa and I. They listened with cute interest and in a heart melting moment, Willa gestured for them to come and sit down with her. Is this what maternal pride feels like?

A few more children came over, abandoning their own stories. Parents watched from a distance and I tried to focus on the book and not the growing pressure that I felt to deliver this story with enough enthusiasm to hold their attention. It was sort of cute though. I felt like a teacher, sitting at the front of her class. On cue, children would giggle, gasp, clap.

At the end of the book, I closed it and a dozen little sets of hands began clapping, making me feel oddly proud. Especially when Willa stood up beside me and made it known that she was with me. Was she proud of me too? I internally scoffed and told myself to get a grip. I read to a group of children. I didn't save them from a burning building.

The group began to clear and a librarian emerged from among the children who were returning to their parents. He was tall and lean with a thick southern twang and weather worn skin.

"Willa," he grinned, his laugh lines deepening. "How are you, darlin? Who's this friend? Surely a sister?"

I stood up and flustered for a moment. I totally blanked on how to answer. How did Willa want to answer? I swallowed and looked at her but she was smiling at Hank, so his name tag said.

"This is my birth mom, Addie."

He gasped with an enormous smile. "Oh my darlin, isn't that just beautiful. Your birth mother. Well imagine that. Hello Addie," he gave his attention to me now and gripped my hand in a firm shake. "It's such a pleasure to meet you. I've known Willa here for many moons. She's my favourite little reader."

He must have known that she was adopted. He seemed so genuinely excited for her.

"It's nice to meet you."

"You as well. You gathered a good crowd with that readin'."

"Oh. Yeah. I guess I did."

He folded his arms. "Don't suppose you'd be interested in doin' it again? I could keep the library open an extra hour on Sunday's if y'all would come back to read to the kids."

"Oh, um," I looked down at Willa to find her nodding with enthusiasm. "I guess I could do that. Sure. Why not?"

"Oh that's fantastic news, darlin'. I can't pay. Our readers do it as volunteer work. But our last reader, Kirsten, well she slipped over and hit her head while she was running in the rain a few months ago. She is not doing too well. So this is just wonderful."

My stomach turned over at the thought of this poor Kirsten woman. Images and pictures of her accident swarming and stirring me into a nauseating mess.
.
"You tell your daddy I said hello," Hank told Willa and gave us both another handshake, bringing me back from a mild panic attack. "I'll see you next weekend."

There was something seriously wrong with me. I needed to stop making commitments around here. And if I was going to be doing that, there were a few things that I needed to come clean about.

The rain had started again while we were in the library. It wasn't as heavy as it was earlier but it was enough that I didn't want to walk around town with Willa like I had planned to earlier. Instead, we sat in the car while I googled where the nearest theatre is.

"Addie?"

"Mmm?"

"Can I ask you about my birth father?"

I looked up from my phone and met Willa's curious little stare. Honestly, I could barely remember his face anymore. It was sort of a distorted image of grunge hair, a hoodie and lean physique. Willa probably looked like him a little bit, I was sure that I'd be able to see the similarities if I could remember his face.

"What about him?"

"Do you still know him? Did he ever want to meet me? That sort of thing I guess."

The reality of what she was asking made me panic. How could I explain the situation to her, without explaining sex? How much was she aware of? I put my phone down and turned toward her.

"How much do you know about how a baby is made?"

She almost scoffed. "Everything."

I felt doubtful. She was so young. "Really?"

"Yes," she stared with boredom. "The boys private parts go into the girls priv—"

"Alright," I clapped and nervously laughed. "So you know what—"

"Sex is? Yes. I've had the talk."

Well, that made things a little bit easier. I clearly had no idea about a child's comprehensive range at this age. Or perhaps Milo was comfortable sharing these things with her because she was so mature. Each to their own.

"Well, the thing is, your birth father and I, we only knew each other for one night and he wasn't—" I paused, exhaling because I didn't want to tell her the entire truth. I didn't want her to think her conception came from this traumatic event. "He wasn't interested in keeping in touch. I never saw him after that night. I don't know his name. I couldn't find him to tell him about you. I'm sorry that I can't tell you more."

She slowly let her gaze move so that she was staring out of the windshield, rain pelted and drizzled down the glass, blurring the outside world.

"I'm really sorry."

"It's not your fault," she smiled, still staring out ahead of her. "I was just curious."

"If you really want to look for him, we could try?"

"No," she finally looked at me. "That's okay. I have a dad. If he just had sex with you and left, he's probably not really nice."

I chuckled. She had no idea. Granted, he could be different now that he's older. Who knows. He literally has no idea that she exists. But the choice lies with her and she seems sincere in not needing to know who he is.

Raine and Milo had a nice home in Berry Creek, Georgetown. It was two stories high, made of brick with a beautiful front lawn, trees and a double garage door on the front of the house. The path that we walked to the front door was made of cobble stone and the grass was perfectly trimmed.

My hand almost outstretched to ring the bell but Willa went straight inside and called out for her dad. Inside, it was bright with white tile floors, cream walls and lots of photos. The living room lounge suite was brown leather and the curtains were a similar shade.

There was also a shelf beside the window and it was covered in lustrous green house plants. I wandered straight towards it while Willa flopped down onto the sofa and gave one more bellow for her dad. He must have been upstairs somewhere. Raine was sleeping no doubt. I wondered how she didn't wake up with all of Willa's hollering going on. We heard Milo padding towards the room while I ran my fingertips along the leaves of a plant that was looking a bit lifeless.

"Afternoon," Milo smiled and sat beside Willa.

"This is a Calathea Ornata," I told him and touched the soil. It was damp. "This light is too harsh. It needs indirect light. Also, it helps to mist them. Is this a self watering pot?" I lifted up the white pot and noticed that there were no holes at the bottom. "I'd suggest getting a self watering pot and putting it in a water tray. Keep it topped up. They need to be kept fairly moist at all times. You can put some pebbles in the tray or something to keep it looking nice. Try not to re pot it more than once though. They don't like it."

I set the pot down on a side table beside the living room threshold and looked at Milo who was watching me curiously. Willa wore a soft smile.

"Alright," Milo gave me a quick nod. "I'll let Raine know. Those are her plants. She's just got a few around the house. Said they add character."

"They do. House plants also purify the air."

His gaze widened. "I did not know that."

I smiled.

"So, how was the afternoon?"

"Good," Willa answered and sat up straighter with excitement. "We went to the movies but first we went to the library and Addie read to me and then all of these other kids listened and Hank asked Addie to read on Sundays."

Milo chuckled and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. "Well that sounds like a perfect afternoon, don't it?"

She nodded and scooted forward off the sofa. "I'm going to my room to get dressed."

"Alright honey, you need something to eat?"

Milo looked over his shoulder and listened for Willa's answer that she shouted from half way up the stair case. "No. We ate. I'll have a lemonade though!"

He chuckled and stood up. "Want one?"

"Oh sure."

He circled the sofa and I followed him toward a second entrance that opened into the kitchen. It was crisp white and modern with a red feature wall and a breakfast bar cutting in between the dining area and the kitchen. I slipped onto a stool and peered out at the back garden.

"That's a cute little playhouse," I pointed at the back corner of the garden where a wooden playhouse was tucked underneath large sprawling tree branches.

Milo smiled, his focus moving between the lemonade he was pouring and the back garden. It was impossible to ignore the fact that this was a little awkward. I hadn't spent as much time with Milo alone and he was a touch more reserved than Raine. If she'd been here, there wouldn't be any of these extended pauses and stretches of quiet.

Finally, as he slid the glass across the breakfast bar, he said, "Zac and Willa built that last summer. I mean, Zac did most of it but she was out there every day, hammer in hand. You should get her to show you it. It's her library."

"Really?"

He nodded. "There's an arm chair out there, shelves of books and a blanket. She loves it."

I sipped on my lemonade and could hardly wait to go out and have a look.

"So, how was it? For you?"

My brows furrowed until I realised what Milo was asking me. "Oh. It was so much fun. She's a great girl. She didn't have bundles of questions like I thought she would. She's quite happy to just, roll with the punches isn't she?"

"Yep," Milo tapped the counter top with amusement. "She's an easy going kid."

I thought about the fact that she'd asked about her birth father and thought that I should tell him that. That seems like the kind of information that I should pass on. "She did ask about her birth father."

Milo snapped his attention toward me.

"She just asked if he was in the picture. You know. Or what his role was. Raine probably explained that you already?"

He nodded. "She did. What did you tell Will? I mean, I'm not sure she needs to be hearing about rape at her age."

I was taken back at the blunt deliverance in his words. Perhaps being a police officer and dealing with that sort of thing on such a regular basis meant that it was just factual to him. Perhaps the impact wasn't as big for him. It still made me flinch though. I'd have thought he'd be a little more sensitive given his position.

"Oh, well, she told me that she knows what sex is?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "There's a difference between consensual sex between two adults and rape and assault."

"There is," I nodded, feeling the need to make a point. I could hear Margo telling me to drop it. "But I think the two go hand in hand when you're having these conversations. If someone knows what sex is, they also need to know their boundaries and they need to know they're allowed to say no and they don't owe it to anyone. And to listen when they hear no. They should understand what consent is and how to keep themselves safe. I'm talking in general now. For boys and girls."

Milo stared at me. I swear, he was pissed off. But I couldn't understand why. These conversations should have been first nature to him, having seen so much horror in his line of work.

"I didn't have a full understanding of boundaries and what level of respect I was entitled to when my virginity was stolen. That's why I think these conversations are important."

He continued to stare, tapping his knuckles on the counter top. I really had no idea what he was thinking. It wasn't obvious at all.

"I didn't tell her that I was assaulted or explain what rape was, because that's not my place," I said after I couldn't handle the quiet a minute longer. "But I still think it's a good idea to have those discussions with someone who has as developed comprehension as she does."

"Like you said, it's not your place. I'm her father."

"I know."

He nodded and started to relax a little bit.

"I actually didn't want to make her think she was the result of a really traumatic event. So I just explained that we only knew each other for one night and that I couldn't find him and he wasn't aware of her existence. I said if she really wanted to find him, I could do some search—"

"You told her what?"

I stammered at his angered tone. It was much harsher than it had been before.

"You don't get to tell her shit like that," he almost shouted and I froze. "How dare you? You can't tell her that she can go and search for her birth father. You don't have the right. What the hells wrong with you?"

Okay, he might have been right about that. "I'm sorry," I mumbled. "I wasn't thinking. I just felt bad that I couldn't give her any more answers and I made an offer that I probably shouldn't have but honestly it doesn't even matter because it'd be impossible to find him and—"

"You need to leave," Milo snapped and folded his arms, his breathing was coming out harsh and fast. "If you can't respect the fact that you're not her parent no more, this isn't gonna work. You gotta go. You won't be seeing Will again."

Panic had me seeing dots in my vision. "Milo, please—"

"Go."

My shoulders fell, but I could see that he was in no position to be persuaded otherwise. Not right now anyway. So I quickly stood up and made a dash for the front door. As I passed the living room, I saw Willa sitting on the bottom stair with a solemn look on her face. I froze for a moment, wanting to talk to her but not wanting to make things worse.

"Please don't give up on me again," she whispered and my heart shattered into a million pieces.

I felt tears welling as I stared at her sweet face. A face that resembled mine. No, I wasn't her parent, but she meant the world to me and I wasn't going to lose her again.

"Of course I won't," I whispered, forcing a smile. "I'll be back. I promise."