Way To Go Tiger

Chapter 27

Travis's POV

The house felt a little too quiet this morning. Normally, I'd be rushing off to practice or prepping for a game, but those days were behind me now. Retirement had its perks—more time with Ivy, more moments like this, just the two of us. But today felt a little different because Taylor wasn't here.

She was in New York, busy with album promo. It was exciting seeing her so hyped for her new release, but I couldn't help feeling a little left out. I wished I could've gone with her, but with Ivy still so young, it just made more sense for me to stay home. We'd planned it all out, and while I was more than happy to be Mr. Mom for a few days, I wasn't quite ready for how much I'd miss Taylor.

I glanced at the baby monitor on the nightstand. Ivy's soft stirring had turned into little whimpers, and I knew I had to get moving before her cries got louder.

"Alright, alright," I muttered to myself as I slid out of bed and padded down the hall to Ivy's room.

When I opened the door, she was standing in her crib, gripping the rails with her tiny hands. Her little face lit up as soon as she saw me, and she started bouncing on her legs, her messy hair sticking up in all directions.

"Morning, sunshine," I whispered, leaning down to scoop her into my arms. Ivy snuggled into me, her head resting against my chest. This was our routine now—me and her, figuring out this whole dad thing, just the two of us while Mama was away.

We headed into the kitchen, where I settled her into the high chair. Breakfast was usually a team effort with Taylor, but today it was just me. As I scrambled some eggs and warmed up a bottle of milk, Ivy babbled away, pointing at random things around the kitchen. I couldn't help but smile at her little voice, even if I had no idea what she was trying to tell me.

But as I set her breakfast down in front of her, her eyes started scanning the room. She looked around, almost as if she was searching for something—or someone. Then, with a small frown, she turned those big blue eyes up at me and said softly, "Mama?"

My chest tightened. Ivy had already said her first word a few days ago—"mama"—and now, with Taylor gone, it was like she was trying to figure out where her mama had disappeared to.

"I know, baby girl. Mama's not here right now, but she'll be back soon," I said gently, sitting down next to her.

She stared at me, clearly not fully understanding, and repeated the word again, a little louder this time. "Mama!"

I smiled, trying to hide the bittersweet feeling creeping up on me. "Mama's in New York, remember? But Daddy's here."

For a moment, Ivy looked like she was about to cry, her little bottom lip quivering. I reached out to brush her hair away from her face, trying to reassure her. But just then, she surprised me.

"Dadda."

My heart skipped a beat. I knew she had been saying "mama" for days, but this was the first time she'd said *my* name, clear and simple. It was the sweetest sound I'd ever heard.

"That's right," I said, grinning as I reached for her hand. "I'm Dadda."

Ivy giggled, her little fingers curling around mine, and just like that, the sadness from earlier faded away. In that moment, it was just me and her, and I realized that this—being here for these milestones, even when Taylor wasn't around—was something I wouldn't trade for the world.

After breakfast, I decided we'd go for a walk to get some fresh air. We bundled up, and I strapped her into the stroller. As we made our way through the neighborhood, I couldn't stop thinking about how much had changed since I'd retired. Ivy was growing so fast, and Taylor's career was still soaring. But this moment, being able to be present for every little thing with Ivy—that was the real gift.

About halfway through the walk, I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. It was a text from Taylor.

*How's my baby girl doing?*

I smiled, pausing to snap a quick photo of Ivy bundled up in her stroller. She looked up at me with wide eyes, a little bit of drool hanging from her mouth. I chuckled, sending the picture to Taylor with a quick reply.

*We're good. Just got back from breakfast, and guess what? She said Dadda this morning.*

The reply was almost instant.

*WHAT?! I'm crying. I hate missing these moments. Tell me everything.*

I could picture her reaction perfectly—tears in her eyes, that soft smile she got whenever Ivy did something new. I leaned against a tree for a moment, typing out the details of our morning.

*She was looking for you, of course. Said Mama a few times, but then she turned to me and said Dadda. Clear as day.*

Taylor's next message made me laugh.

*I'll be home before you know it. Give her a big kiss from me!*

I looked down at Ivy, who was now babbling to herself as we walked. There were so many more moments like this ahead, I knew. And even though Taylor wasn't here right now, I knew she was with us in spirit, cheering Ivy on from miles away.

I leaned down to kiss the top of Ivy's head, whispering, "Mama's coming home soon, baby girl. And she's gonna be so proud of you."

As we made our way back to the house, I felt a sense of peace settle over me. This was the new rhythm of our lives—balancing milestones, celebrations, and quiet moments in between. And with every step, I knew we were building something stronger, together.