Charlie's Angel

33 pt 2

Aaron

I was pissed with everyone.

But besides being pissed, I was excited to be spending time with Paris; I was excited that I was finally able to be the dad I was supposed to be this whole time. I mean, sure I said some horrible things about her and was mean to her, but things were different now.

Paris was trying so hard to stay awake in her booster seat, so I turned on some soft jazz on the radio to help ease her transition to her slumber. She kept trying to stay awake, catching herself when her head dropped and her body went limp; I laughed at her quietly.

She jumped awake when I turned the car off, and she looked around nervously like she forgot where she was. I helped her out of the backseat and grabbed her backpack with her clothes in it and I let her carry her stuffed animal under her arm–it was a little, chocolate-colored teddy bear. I had never seen it before so I guessed it was new.

Holding out my hand for her, she latched on and I led her inside the building and to the elevator. When the doors slid open, I stepped inside with her, "You wanna push the button with the three on it?"

She nodded quietly and tapped it with her finger before returning to her place beside me; she didn't reach for my hand again, but I was okay a with that. I didn't to rush things with her.

When the elevator arrived at our floor, she followed behind me to the door leading to my apartment. Shifting the things around in my arms, I dug my keys out of my pocket before unlocking the door and stepping inside to flip on a light. She lingered by the door and looked in skeptically, craning her neck around so she could see without stepping inside. I laughed at her, "It's okay, baby girl. This is where I live."

She clutched onto her teddy bear tighter and stepped forward and I closed the door behind her.

"Do you like it?"

She shrugged, "It's black and dark. Do you like black?"

I looked around to see what she was talking about. I made a decent annual salary and was able to buy a very nice, modern apartment in the city for Jeremiah and Keisha. The flooring was cherry wood, all of my furniture was black and leather, and the linens were all either black or gray. The only spot in the place that had an ounce of brightness was the kitchen with my stainless steel appliances or the living room with the big windows that showed the city; I was a huge fan of natural light more so than artificial lighting.

"That's my favorite color," I chuckled, "You don't like it?"

She shook her head, "'S scary."

I set her things down in the living room and she walked up after me, sitting on the floor and watching as I turned on the flat screen and found a little kid show to watch–was she afraid to sit on the couch?

"You wanna sit up here or do you wanna take a nap?" I asked her.

On cue, she yawned and rubbed her eyes sleepily before glancing at me, "Can I call Mommy?"

I chuckled at her and shook my head, "You just got here, baby girl. Why don't you try and take a nap and you can call her when you wake up."

She thought about it for a moment before laying down on the floor, using her teddy bear as a pillow; did she think I was that cruel that I would make her sleep on the floor?

Was I that much of a monster?

I needed to change, for Paris' sake; she and I would be spending a lot of time together from now on and I sure didn't want her to be afraid of me anymore. I knew that I had fucked up a lot in the past and said some hurtful things to her, and I couldn't help but feel guilty. My daughter needed me, whether she realized it or not. It was now that I had to actually be a father. The word 'Dad' had never meant anything to me until now, but it was four years too late.