Page 77 of Off Limits Daddies
Noah nods. "I need to relieve the babysitter anyway."
I dress quickly, pulling my hair into a messy ponytail. Blake moves mechanically, his athletic grace replaced by stiff, uncertain movements.
The drive to County General passes in tense silence until he finally talks.
"What if she looks at me and hates me?" Blake's voice breaks the quiet. "What if she blames me for not being there?"
"She's six years old. She's probably terrified and confused. She needs you to be strong right now."
His brown eyes search my face. "How do you know what to say?"
"Because I've been the terrified parent. And I've been the one keeping secrets about a child's father."
At the reception desk, a tired-looking nurse glances up as Blake approaches. "I'm Blake Morgan. I got a call about a child?"
The nurse's expression softens. "Yes, Mr. Morgan. Let me page the social worker."
We sit in uncomfortable plastic chairs while we wait. Blake's leg bounces with nervous energy.
"Mr. Morgan?" A woman in her forties approaches. "I'm Karen Mitchell, the social worker assigned to Lily's case. If you'll follow me?"
Blake glances back at me with uncertainty.
"She can come," Karen says. "Lily could use all the support she can get right now."
We follow her through a maze of hallways to a small private room.
"I'm sorry for your loss," she begins. "Anne Winters was brought in around seven this evening following a single-car accident. She sustained severe internal injuries and knew she wasn't going to make it. Before she passed, she asked to speak with me privately."
Blake's jaw tightens but he doesn't interrupt.
"She told me about her daughter Lily, age six, and that you're the biological father. She said she never told you about the pregnancy because she was scared and thought she could handle it alone." Karen pulls out a folder and slides it across the desk. "This is Lily's birth certificate. You're listed as the father."
Blake's hands shake as he picks up the document. I lean closer, and there it is in black and white—Father: Blake Morgan.
"Anne had no other family. Without you, Lily will go into the foster system."
Blake presses his palms against his eyes. "I need a minute."
"Of course. But I should mention that Lily knows about you. Anne told her tonight before the ambulance arrived. The little girl has been asking for her daddy."
Blake's shoulders shake and I realize he's crying. I move my chair closer and wrap my arm around him.
"What do I do?" he whispers. "I don't know how to be a father."
"You learn. You show up and you love her and you figure out the rest as you go."
He wipes his eyes. "Okay. I want to meet her."
We walk down another hallway to the pediatric wing. Karen stops outside a room.
"Lily's been through a tremendous trauma tonight. Just be gentle with her."
Karen opens the door and we step inside.
Sitting on the bed, clutching a worn stuffed elephant to her chest, is the smallest, most heartbreaking little girl I've ever seen.
She has Blake's sandy blonde hair, though hers falls in tangled waves past her shoulders. Her eyes are the same warm brown, currently red-rimmed from crying. She's wearing pink pajamas with unicorns on them.
