Page 121 of Until I Find You

I furrow my brow. “Ha. And you kept it?”

Dad doesn’t respond.

I thumb through the box. Old drawings, a baggie with a lock of hair, one with a couple teeth. School pictures, baby pictures. All the sentimental things you’d expect a parent to keep.

Or if you’re me, sentimental things I never thought my dad cared about.

I find a picture of me and him. Out in Central Park it looks like, sitting on a bench. I’m probably only a couple years old. And Dad…looks so young. I don’t think I’ve seen a picture of him this young in a long time. No gray in his hair, still just in his twenties. No wrinkles.

I’m straddling his thigh with chubby legs, chest against his chest. His arm is wrapped around me, and he’s kissing my chin.

I don’t know if I can properly convey why…it just looks like love.

“I know this is just stuff. And it doesn’t really mean anything after…I can’t change how I’ve made you feel over the years, Jack, but the way I loved you in my heart isn’t any different from the way I am now, I promise.”

I finally tear my eyes up from the photo and look at my dad. Those tears that were threatening to spill out earlier have returned.

“I’m sorry.” A tear rolls down his cheek. He swipes it away fast. “I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay,” I reply. Because it is. Now, it is. Because we made it here. Because I have made a life I love, and I’ve managed to be a good man in part due to his mistakes but also in part to his triumphs. And we’re still here. We’re still trying.

That’s a fucking lot.

I round this desk and give him a hug. The kind of hug a kid gives his dad, where you can’t be close enough and it can’t be tight enough.

“You’re still my baby, Jack,” he chokes out. “You’re just taller and don’t need me anymore.”

I laugh. “I still need you, Dad.”

He shakes with silent sobs.

My stomach roils with terror. This will be me one day. With my child, my baby all grown up able to take care of themselves.

When he’s decided he’s finished with tears–yes, decided, since my father is not one for tears–he claps his hand on my shoulder. “I’m so proud of you. And so excited for you.”

I smile.

“Does…does your mother know?”

I laugh. “No, I told you all first.”

He inhales deeply. “I’m going to count that as a win.”

“You should, Grandpa.”

Dad winces. “I’ve just gotten used to the whole dirty diapers and eighteen more years with children in the house, let’s ease into the grandpa thing, huh?”

I grab his shoulder back. “Yeah, sorry, no can do.”

He rolls his eyes. “I deserve that.”

26

CAMILLA

I typeout a message to my mom hurriedly. She’s sending me links for all sorts of baby stuff already. I told them during a facetime a couple of days ago. They’re over the moon, even if they’re a little wary of Jack. However, one look at where we’re living for now and they quickly changed her tune.

So now, Mom is going hog wild, knowing that there’s no budget and sky’s the limit. We can get the tricked-out strollers and cribs and all the gadgets and gizmos.

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