Page 34 of Feel Me

I almost spit out my water, making Miles crack up and hang tight to his side. “How many women were you taking home?”

He sits back in his chair, blotting the perspiration forming along his brow. As much as it appears to hurt him, he seems to welcome the laughter.

It’s probably been a long while since he had a good time.

“There weren’t that many women.” His eyes cut Mel’s way. “But enough that warranted an excuse, however pathetic.”

“He used to sneak them out in the morning before I’d see them.” She crosses her arms. “But I knew those tramps were there.”

“They weren’t tramps.” He pretends to think about it. “At least twenty-two to twenty-eight percent attended church on a regular basis.”

“Nice, Daddy,” she says, standing.

“Where are you going?” he asks.

“Ladies room. I’ll be right back.”

I stand with her, sitting only once she disappears. “So tell me, out of all those women, you never found the one? Someone who’d make a good wife and mother?” Seeing how devoted he is to Mel, it’s shocking he never married.

Miles hangs onto his smile, but it lacks enthusiasm now that Mel’s gone. “The ones who kept my interest didn’t hang around for long.”

“Why?”

“One in particular couldn’t stay. The U.S. wasn’t her home. The otherswouldn’tstay because of Melissa.” He swivels the water in his glass, taking a moment to gather his words and allowing what he said to sink in. His admission is an emotional slap across the face. I barely move. Miles seems to realize, taking another moment to explain. “As with most new relationships, they expected to be the priority, and for me to devote my spare time to them. But I couldn’t, not when Melissa needed me more.”

“Because of her special needs?”

He nods. “I always thought I’d marry and have a few kids. It’s how life is, am I right? Something most people do. I never thought I’d have a child without a wife, let alone adopt one on my own. But when I met Melissa, I couldn’t bring myself to walk away. I’d handled enough cases to know what would happen to her, especially given how severely delayed and malnourished she was. She was just a kid. With no chance at surviving the system. Something inside me told me not to let her go. So I didn’t.” He lowers his glass. “It was the best decision I’ve ever made.”

He means it. I can tell. But it’s clear how much he gave up for her. “Any regrets?”

He thinks about it. “I wish I could have found the right woman, not for me necessarily, but for her. I played the role of mother and father, and for the most part I think I played it well. But there were times she needed more. If a boy hurt her, my first reaction was to threaten to pound the shit out of him.”

“That’s understandable,” I say, my anger stirring just knowing she’s been hurt.

“But that’s not what Melissa needed. She needed a protector, certainly. But she also needed someone who could let her cry and relate to the pain she was feeling. I couldn’t do that, too caught up in wanting to knock out the boy who reduced my little girl to tears.”

I think I should say something. But though I pride myself on being quick on my feet, nothing comes to mind. Maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe Miles just wants to be heard.

“She came to me the first time she had her heart broken,” he says, his stare growing distant. “He was the first boy she considered a good friend and the first she developed strong feelings toward. You can imagine how crushed she was when he asked a friend of hers to the fall dance instead of her. If that wasn’t bad enough, he admitted he couldn’t see himself with someone like her.”

“Someone like her?” I repeat. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know,” he responds. “But that’s not the point. It’s what he said and how she took it.” He shrugs, trying to play it off as if it no longer matters even though I think it does. “I called him an asshole and told her she was too good for him.”

“It’s probably the same thing I would have done,” I say. In addition to stalking his ass and bashing his face in.

“Maybe,” he says. “But it wasn’t what she needed. She was trying to tell me she didn’t feel good enough, and that she never would. Instead of ripping into the little bastard and putting him down, I should have been building her up.” He motions to the women at the next table. “A mother would have known that.”

“I see your point,” I say. “But everything I’ve come to know about Melissa shows me you did a damn good job.”

He sighs. “Hopefully, but as a parent you always wish you could have done better, said something a little differently, tried a little harder, and opened your mind a little more. She’s my greatest gift, but one I don’t think I’ve given enough back to.”

I meet him square in the eye so that he knows that I mean what I say. “Miles, Melissa couldn’t have asked for a better mother or father than you.”

“God, I hope so,” he says, finishing off his water.

Melissa returns then, laughing when I stand. “Quit pretending to be a gentleman just because my father is here.”

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