Page 93 of Just Say Christmas
That trust could be a burden, maybe. Or it could be a joy. He was choosing joy.
He said, “I told you why I took you home.”
Isaiah said, “Because she’s your whanau. I mean, our whanau. She’s all of our whanau.”
“That’s right,” Rhys said. “I took you because you’re my whanau. You’re my whanau because you were born.” His hand hovered over those three stones again. Three tiny white stones, and ten heaps. Nine hundred ninety-seven. “But you’re my daughter because I love you.” He shoved the pebbles back so they touched the others. “This is where I said you were one hundred percent mine.”
“One thousand out of one thousand,” Isaiah said. “One hundred percent.”
“One hundred percent,” Rhys said. “One hundred percent dad.”
* * *
ZORA
She could hardly breathe. She could hardly move, even though her hands were still clutching Marshmallow. Casey’s eyes, so much like Rhys’s, the color of peat in the Scottish Highlands, were huge, and fixed on him.
One hundred percent dad.
Isaiah said, “It’s not a for-sure thing, though, because you chose. You aren’t really a hundred percent her dad. You just chose it.”
Rhys didn’t answer for a minute. Then he said, “This is pretty much what I tell my players. It’s my best rugby wisdom, so listen up. It’s the same thing, because all of life is a choice. We’re choosing every day. Not just every day. Every minute of every day, you choose what you do. How you react. What you learn, and what you take with you. And none of life is perfect. It will never be perfect. You never get everything you want. Your mum can die. Your dad can die. Your mum can leave. My mum left, but my Nan was there, and then my dad was. Whatever it is in your story, there’ll always be something that’s not right. That’s where the choice comes in. You choose what you’ll make of what you’ve been given. When there’s something that’s not perfect? That’s when you have to choose what you’ll make of what you’ve got. Whether you’ll be somebody other people can trust. On a rugby team, or in a family, that’s your choice, and what you choose is who you are. It’s everything you are. It’s more important than any DNA.”
Casey still hadn’t said anything. She was listening, though.
Isaiah said, “You can’t know what’s in somebody else’s mind, though. If you can’t see into their mind, how do you know if you can trust them? How do you know if they’ll keep choosing you?”
Zora needed to say this. “You know by what Uncle Rhys said. What other people choose is whotheyare. That’s how you know. Beyond that? It’s a leap of faith.” Her hand went out to Rhys, and he took it. “That’s what makes it beautiful. You can choose to hold back, like your dad held back those pebbles, Casey. He could have said, ‘I’ll take you, but I won’t be your dad. I’ll be your uncle.’ But he didn’t say that, did he?”
“No,” Casey said. “He said he was my dad.”
“When we were in the toilet, on the plane,” Rhys said. “When we looked in the mirror, and you were crying. Do you remember that?”
“Yes,” she said. “I was very scared, and my feet were wet, and you washed them in the sink.”
“That was when I chose you for real,” he said. “That was when I put those three stones back, when I knew for sure that I was your dad.”
“He committed,” Zora said. “That’s what it’s called. He made a promise, and then he had to keep it every day. Love isn’t something you do once, and then you’re done. You make a choice to love every day.”
Rhys said, “I could tell you that’s it, Casey. I could say, ‘I’m your dad, and we’re done,’ but I can’t really make this choice for you. I can’t make myself your dad in your heart. You have to choose for yourself, just like Auntie Zora and I are choosing to marry each other.” He took the pebbles out again and put them to one side. “It’s your choice. What do you choose?”
Zora could tell his heart was beating hard. He’d gambled on this. He’d made a plan, and he’d executed. But you didn’t always win. You did your best, and if that was enough, you won.
Casey took a deep breath, and then she picked up the pebbles. She didn’t put them next to the pile. She put them on top.
Another breath, and she said it. “I choose you to be my dad. I choose you.”
44
The Clock Ticks
RHYS
Casey cried. Zora cried. Rhys cried a little, too. All right, he cried more than a little. Isaiah asked, “Why is everybody crying? Isn’t it supposed to be happy?”
Zora laughed. Still crying. “Sometimes, you cry because your heart is too full, and it won’t hold all the happiness. It has to come out in tears.”
“Yes,” Casey said. She wasn’t across from Rhys anymore. The bunnies were hopping around on the grass, and Casey was in his arms. That was the right place. One hundred percent. Casey said, “I was very sad, and now I’m very happy. It’s too many feelings.”
