Page 2 of Unbreakable Love

Josie was silent for a beat, then two. “Maybe she won’t smell like mothballs.”

I choked down a laugh and rolled my eyes toward the ceiling. My mom was there, poorly stifling her own. “I bet there’s a good chance Miss Pesco won’t smell like mothballs.”

My daughter was a riot, and I had no idea where she got her sparkling and witty personality. It certainly wasn’t from me, but it was one of my favorite things about her. She said what was on her mind, and she usually did it politely enough in front of others that I didn’t need to reprimand her for it. But God help me if someone ever tried to silence her.

“Okay.” She sniffed and stepped back, scrunching up her nose. “Sometimes if I try real hard, I can still smell it even when I’m not around Mrs. Bonners.”

My mom snorted and turned her back to us.

“Why do you think she smelled like that, Dad?”

“Remember how I showed you?” The first week of school, Josie came home telling me her teacher smelled funny and sometimes the smell tickled her nose. I’d figured it was Bonners’ perfume, but as soon as I had my first meeting with her, the smell was unmistakable. I’d gone to the hardware store, found a package, and took it home with me to ask Josie if that’s what she smelled.

“It protects her clothes?”

“That’s right. And Mrs. Bonners only wanted to look nice for you kids, right?”

At least I hoped that’s what it was because if it was her perfume, then someone really should have told her.

I gave her a little shake until she hopped off my thigh. “You have your things ready to head home?”

“Yeah. I’m ready.”

Her blue-painted toenails wiggled on my parents’ tile floor.

“What about your shoes?”

“Oh!” She spun, and her feet thundered through the home toward the front door. “I almost forgot!”

“Your daughter is something else, Gavin.” My mom was still laughing.

“Bet it’s nice to have a girl around again, and not all us stinky boys, huh?”

She came to me and wrapped her arms around my biceps.

“I’ll take whatever family comes my way, boys or girls, regardless of the stench.”

“Even mothballs?”

“Even mothballs.” She laughed. “Get home safe and we’ll see you tomorrow.”

My parents were amazing. Thoughtful, kind, hardworking, and there wasn’t a living thing my mom didn’t fall in love with. When I’d come to them at fifteen, scared out of my brain that I’d gotten Monica pregnant, there’d been tears and disappointment, but within twenty-four hours, they were working on a game plan for moving forward. That was it. No yelling. No punishment, just a complete redirect of my entire life.

They didn’t hesitate to jump in and support me every step of the way.

I’d be lost without them.

“Love you, Mom.”

“You too. Drive safe.”

I couldn’t say there was anything fun about becoming a father at the age of fifteen. There was definitely nothing fun about learning my high school girlfriend took off in the middle of the night to go live with a cousin’s family because she wanted nothing to do with being a mom or staying in our small town. Learning how to parent Josie with the help of my entire family was the hardest thing I was certain I’d ever have to do in my entire life. It radically altered not only the path I’d wanted for my life, but it drastically affected my ability to trust people.

Sure, we’d been young teenagers, kids ourselves, but eight years later and I was still walking around without a fully formed frontal cortex, and forced to make responsible choices every single day for the sole benefit of another tiny human, never myself.

Some days, it absolutely sucked, even with the help and support I’d always received.

Other days, Josie would say something, far beyond her tiny little years, and amaze the hell out of me. Her laugh stole the wind from my lungs and her cries were no less painful than a shot to the chest.

---