Page 32 of Stepping Up

As the movie progressed, Ella’s laughter filled the room, punctuated by excited gasps and whispered commentary, all perfectly timed within the plot of this surprisingly entertaining children’s film. She was completely engrossed in the story, her eyes wide with wonder as the animated dinosaurs roared to life on the screen.

Carly and I exchanged amused glances, silently reveling in the joy radiating from our little movie companion. Our daughter. It was so surreal to even think those words, but the more time I spent with Ella and Carly both, the more I could see the interesting blend of Carly’s and my genetics. Ella was a unique creature all her own, but in addition to my eyes and my mind for science, she had her mother’s wide, bright smile and a layer of sass that was distinctly from her matriarchal line. Her sweetness, I liked to think, came from both of us.

The dinosaur movie, surprisingly, was a bit of a heart-wrencher. When the movie was rounding the corner to the climax, a somber scene played out on screen, and I felt Ella’s energy shift beside me. She grew quiet, her bottom lip trembling slightly as tears welled up in her eyes. The first sound of a sniffle broke the seal, and then she was fully sobbing.

“Oh, no, baby,” Carly murmured, wrapping her arm around Ella’s shoulders. “It’s okay. It’s just a movie.”

But Ella shook her head, her voice small and choked with emotion. “But it’s sad, Mama. The dinosaur lost his mom. I don’t want to lose you ever.”

I felt a pang of sympathy for her, wishing there were something I could do to ease her distress. “Hey, it’s okay to feel sad sometimes,” I said gently, reaching out to brush a stray tear from her cheek. She didn’t shy away from my touch, which was a good sign. I wasn’t settled into this fatherly role yet, and I wouldn’t ever be quite secure in it until Ella knew that’s who I was, but I’d take any small, parental win I could get. “That is sad. I lost my mom and dad years ago, and it was really sad.”

“Really?” Her small voice cracked, and she and Carly both were watching me closely now.

I nodded. “Really. And even though I miss them a lot and I wish they were still around, I’m still here and doing fine. The dinosaur will be okay, too. And you know what? The best part about sad moments in movies is that they pretty much always get better. That’s how stories usually go, right? And you’ve got me and your mama here to make sure of it.”

Carly shot me a grateful smile, her eyes shining with unspoken appreciation, some twinge of sympathy for my sad story, too. Together, we wrapped Ella in a comforting embrace, our arms forming a protective cocoon around her.

“Doctor Ben is right,” Carly said softly, pressing a kiss to Ella’s forehead. “We’ll get through this together, okay?”

Ella nodded, her tears beginning to dry as she snuggled closer to us. “Okay.”

And just like that, the melancholy was lifted, replaced by a sense of warmth and closeness that seemed to envelop us all. As the movie continued to play in the background, we sat together, content in each other’s company. Carly mouthed a quiet thank you over Ella’s head as the credits rolled.

As Ella snuggled between Carly and me, her tear-streaked face slowly relaxing into a peaceful expression, I couldn’t help but feel a surge of emotion welling up inside me, something like hope mixed with the pure joy of a dream fulfilled. It was a strange sensation, this overwhelming sense of pride and warmth that seemed to wash over me like a gentle wave. Watching Carly comfort Ella, seeing the way they leaned on each other for support, I felt a sense of awe at the bond they shared. It was a bond that I was slowly becoming a part of, one that felt both foreign and strangely familiar at the same time.

In that moment, as we sat together on the couch, enveloped in the soft glow of the TV and the comforting embrace of family, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was exactly where I was meant to be. It was a feeling I hadn’t experienced in a long time, not since my own family was torn apart by tragedy.

I had always dreamed of having that perfect, sitcom-worthy nuclear family of my own, a loving wife and children to come home to at the end of the day. But after losing my parents the way I had, that dream had dulled in my vision. Lately, it seemed like nothing more than a distant fantasy—especially with the looming presence of Logan and Nate complicating the picture. Yet here I was, sitting with Carly and Ella, feeling more like a father than I ever thought possible. It was a strange and wonderful feeling, one that filled me with a sense of wonder. I was so grateful to be here, to have reunited with Carly after all these years of wondering where the beautiful aspiring photographer I’d met in college had ended up. To witness the person our daughter was growing into in front of my eyes.

Ella was fading fast, though. Even though she insisted we should play games now, or watch the sequel to the dinosaur movie, or have a fashion show, her sensible mama put her foot down.

“It’s time for bed, baby girl,” Carly said gently.

Ella pouted, her eyes still red-rimmed from her earlier tears. "But Mama, I'm not even tired. Can't we stay up a little longer?"

Carly brushed a hand over Ella's hair, her expression softening with affection. "I know you’ve had fun tonight. But it's already past your bedtime. You need your sleep so you can grow big and strong, just like the dinosaurs."

Ella let out a dramatic sigh, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "Fine," she relented, though the disappointment lingered in her voice.

I watched the exchange with a mixture of amusement and fondness. It was clear that Ella had inherited Carly's strong will and determination, traits that only seemed to amplify in the face of bedtime.

Carly turned to me, her gaze warm and inviting. "Bennett, would you like to help me tuck Ella in tonight?"

The request caught me off guard, but a wave of warmth flooded my chest at the thought of being included in such an intimate moment. "Of course," I replied, unable to hide the smile that tugged at the corners of my lips. "I'd be happy to help. If Ella wants that, I mean."

Ella's eyes lit up at the idea of having both Carly and me see her off to bed. "Yay! Thanks, Doctor Ben!"

Together, we went through Ella's bedtime routine, brushing her teeth and fetching her a glass of water from the kitchen. Then, with Carly leading the way, we followed Ella down the hall to her bedroom, the soft glow of her ladybug night light guiding our path. Her room was cozy and inviting, filled with stuffed animals and colorful drawings of insects of every shape, size, and color adorning the walls. Perfectly Ella. Perfectly devastating for my little wimpy heart. God, if my brothers could hear the inside of my head this evening, I’d never live it down. But it was hard to care too much.

Ella chattered away about her day the whole time, even through her body’s attempts to send her off to dreamland. Yawns broke through her faithful recounting of every detail of the movie. She asked a million questions about dinosaurs and prehistoric times, which I tried to answer whenever Carly looked at a loss. Plenty of them were above my head, too.

“Maybe you’ve got a budding paleontologist, after all,” I murmured. “Is that better or worse than an entomologist, do you think?”

Carly laughed, rolling her eyes.

“Not a chance. She’s been into bugs since she was two. I’d bet any amount of money that she’s over this in a week.”

My heart twinged at the thought that I hadn’t been able to meet Ella at that age, that I hadn’t witnessed the start of her bug obsession or so many other things that made her who she was. But we’d been having such a beautiful evening. I shoved those gloomy thoughts away and focused on the beauty of now.

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