Page 13 of Christmas in Kiwi Country

“I’m still your father.”

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to,” she replies in a singsong, her eyes sparkling as I shift uncomfortably but also secretly love that we’re building this level of easiness between us.

Changing the subject I say, “Have you talked to Emerson?”

“Almost every day. Also, you need to get your brother under control.” She points her napkin at me. “He’s just as bad as she is.” I lift my brows in surprise because it honestly sounds nothing like Gene. “Dad, he wanted to make sure that I was okay with the napkin and tablecloth colors because he thinks it’s going to look great with thetheme.”

Chuckling, I wipe my mouth with my own napkin and smile. “He’s excited. We all are.” She rubs her belly and I blow out a breath before saying, “Is it okay to talk about a couple of things? Not baby shower related,” I add quickly when she narrows her eyes.

“Of course.”

Inhaling deeply, I steel myself for every uncomfortable word about to leave my mouth. “I’m sorry the way things happened with your mom after Naomi passed away. I’m sorry for the way I handled it and for the way I treated you in the process. I know I screwed up a lot of that, but I’ll never apologize for fighting to keep you.”

Isla blinks and lowers her plate to her lap. “I know.”

“I’ve been working through a lot, or trying to at least, and I feel like I need you to know that even though I handled it poorly, I did it for you and us. I didn’t want to ever feel like we had to rely on anyone again. I didn’t want you to be let down and then hell, I let you down over and over again.”

“I think,” she says slowly, “that we really didn’t have a good circle of people to rely on. Our life in Chicago can’t possibly compare to the one I’ve built—we’ve built—here. Also, you don’t have to sugarcoat it—Mom was a cheating bitch and we were better off without her.”

I blink.

And then blink again, my lips parting slightly as Isla’s tip up into a knowing smile. After a moment, I chuckle and it feels more cathartic than I could have imagined.

“Why didn’t you say something?” I ask finally.

“Like what? I didn’t know for sure until I was a little older, and by then it didn’t seem like a topic we needed to dredge up.”

We’re quiet for a moment but I can’t let it go. “Do you think it would have helped?”

“Us?”

I nod and she takes a bite of her flatbread as she mulls it over. “I don’t know. I just—” She pauses and looks around the room. “If it did, I wouldn’t have this.” Looking back at me, she says, “I can’t imagine not being here. And now you’re here and this feels like home, and I can’t regret what it took to get us here.”

Reaching across the table, I take her hand and squeeze. “You’re right.”

“Happens a lot, you know.” She winks and I smile before clearing my throat.

“I had something else I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Awfully chatty, Dad,” she teases.

“First time for everything,” I deadpan and she laughs.

“So what’s next on the agenda?”

“Very funny.” Taking a sip of my drink, I feel my heart start beating a little faster. “I want to take Gwen to New Zealand for Christmas.” Isla’s smile is soft as she watches me. “I wanted to make sure it was okay with you and Cheyenne first. I know we’ll want to be here when the babies come and —”

“Dad?”

“Yes?”

“I think it’s great. We’ll celebrate either before or after your trip.” She smiles and rubs her belly. “Honestly, just having you here is a present enough.”

I’m not prepared for the onslaught of emotions from that one sentence alone. My daughter’s only wish for her whole life has been to spend time with her father.

God, I’ve been such an asshole.

“Isla—”

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