Beyond Home

Lauren

After our day at the zoo, I flew out the next day for a three-game stretch on the road. We won two of the three. Last nights game was a late one, but this morning's flight is bright and early. Normally I would bitch about the time, but the sooner this plane lifts off, the sooner I can get back to my girls. That's how I think of them now, as my girls. How can I not? They're both becoming necessary, important people in my life.

As soon as we're off the plane, I fire off a text to Camila.

          Me: We just landed. I'm missing my girls.
         Camila: Mom is keeping Em tonight. I have the early shift at the restaurant tomorrow and the daycare is closed, so Mom took a vacation day.
          Me: I could have watched her.
          Camila: I couldn't ask you to do that.
          Me: Next time check with me. A day with Princess Emily sounds like a good time to me.
          Camila: LOL. You say that now.
           Me: So what time are you taking her to your moms?
            Camila: After her game.
            Me: She has a game tonight?
           Camila: Yes
           Camila: You're welcome to come.

I read her message and know that inviting me was hard for her. She's cautious when it come to all things Emily.

            Me: I'll be home in an hour. I'll send you my address. Come on over. We'll swim and grill out before her game.
           Camila: You're sure?
           Me: Absolutely.

It will be the first time that either of them have been there. I hold my breath, waiting for her reply, wanting them in my space more than I realized.

             Camila: Okay. Let me get her ball stuff together and a change of clothes.
            Me: See you soon, baby.

I'm barely on the road headed home when my phone rings. "Hey, Dad," I answer after seeing his name across the dash.

"Laur, how are you mija?"

"Good, just leaving the airport."

"That's why I'm calling. You had three damn good games."

"Did Miguel tell you that?" I tease. It's a running joke in our family that Uncle Miguel loves the game more than Dad. He could have gone pro but had a knee injury that kept him in the dugout.

"Very funny, smartass." He laughs goodnaturedly. "So, what's up? Your mom mentioned she hasn't talked to you much lately."

I don't even hesitate to tell him. "I met someone."

"Tell me more." I can imagine him sitting back in his chair, propping his legs up on his desk.

"She's gorgeous and sweet, and she has a little girl. She's four."

"Have you met her?"

"Yeah, we've hung out a few times. Great kid."

"Not that you need the reminder, but as your father, that's my job. There are three hearts at stake here, Lauren."

"I know that, Dad. Trust me, I do. I also know that my heart... it races anytime she's near," I confess.

"This sounds all too familiar to me," he says with a laugh.

"When did you know?"  I ask him. "When did it hit you that Mom and I were what you wanted?"

"I knew the night I met her. I hadn't met you yet, but you're an extension of her, and I never stood a chance not to love either one of you."