Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
There’s been laughter too. The kind that sneaks up on you when the baby makes a funny noise or when Maddie slips in a dry, sarcastic comment I didn’t see coming.
It’s easier between us now. Ever since that night we both laid pieces of ourselves bare—her foster care past, my absentee parents—the balance has shifted. She’s not as defensive, and I’m not walking around with my guard up. It’s not effortless, but it’s… lighter.
And then there’s the road. After winning the first two games against the Eagles at home, we boarded the team plane and flew to Boston for the next two games in this playoff round. We talked about what that would look like… me being gone.
Maddie slipped into warrior mode, putting on that tough exterior and insisting I didn’t need to worry about anything because she was fully capable of taking care of Grayce. She blinked at me in utter confusion when I asked, “But who takes care of you?”
She blinked several times until she waved me off with a scoff. It was pretty cute, to be honest.
There’s no doubt Maddie has things well under control, but that hasn’t stopped me from checking in to make sure. And also… I find myself wanting to see Grayce. I want to hear how her day went, and by proximity, I also get to hear how Maddie’s day was too. I’m afraid to miss a single milestone of Grayce’s, an emotional desire that seems to indicate I’ve embraced fatherhood.
Dad. Da Da. Daddy.
In fact, Grayce is on the verge of taking her first steps on her own, and I’m terrified I’ll miss it. Maddie assured me that she’ll send video if it happens, but that’s just not good enough. I want to be there to see it when she takes that first big move into independence, and it highlights how hard it’s going to be as a traveling dad.
The first night on the road, I texted Maddie before bed, half expecting a short, polite reply that everything was fine. Instead, she hit the FaceTime button and I was so shocked, I wasn’t sure how to accept the video call at first. She put Grayce front and center and gave me an update on how the day was while my daughter blew spit bubbles at me.
Now, it’s become a thing. Whenever I have a moment, I check in, hoping to get a glimpse of what I left behind. I’m totally lost to that little girl. The way her tiny fist grips my finger, the way she settles when she hears my voice—it simply undoes me.
I don’t know the exact moment I accepted I was a dad for real, but I’m there now. I can’t explain it and maybe I’ll never figure it out, but I feel more whole than I did before. Maybe not fully, but mostly.
And Maddie… hell, she’s a whole other problem. Living with her is a constant contradiction. She’s the mother of the baby we’re raising together, but she’s also the woman who walked out of the bathroom wrapped in nothing but a towel and branded that image into my brain. She’s beautiful, sexy, and every damn time I tell myself I don’t have the right to notice, it only gets worse.
But it isn’t just the towel memory or the curve of her smile when she finally lets it loose. It’s the way she hums to Grayce when she thinks no one’s listening, soft and soothing enough to knock the baby out cold. It’s how she never forgets the small stuff—packing extra wipes in the diaper bag, jotting notes on sticky pads so nothing gets missed—like she’s built to keep calamity from swallowing us whole. And it’s the way she’s started teasing me, light and quick, like she’s daring me to give it back. Those things… they’re more dangerous than her looks. They make me want to lean in instead of pulling away.
I sink onto the edge of the bed, thumb hovering over the screen, then hit connect.
As if she was waiting for my call, Maddie’s face fills the screen—fresh-faced, her hair pinned back from her forehead, Grayce balanced against her shoulder. “Hey,” she huffs out, as if she were running to get the phone.
And just like that, the tension in my chest unwinds.
“Hey yourself,” I say. “How’s our girl?”
Maddie tips the phone down so I can see Grayce, who’s working a bubble of drool like it’s her life’s mission. “Say hi to your dad,” Maddie coos.
It never fails when I hear the d-word… that electric thrill.
Grayce gives a squeaky little sound that might’ve been a laugh and my heart squeezes.
“She smiled at a dog on TV earlier,” Maddie reports. “Then she spit milk all over me, which I’m sure was her way of saying thank you.”
I chuckle. “Already developing comedic timing. I’m glad to see she’s starting to model herself after me.”