Forlot: Thunder Will Come Down - Book Twenty-Seven

Chapter One

"Daddy?"

There was nothing that Tamara did that was not cute. She was on her tiptoes and standing by the window, peering out. I was sitting on the floor and cleaning up her toys. We had just played, but Tamara was no longer interested in playing with me, for she desired Caleb, her daddy, to return and join the fun.

My daughter let out a whimper. "Daddy..."

How sweet and loving she is. She loves Caleb so much that she desires to spend most of the time with him. I always wondered if she loved her daddy more than she loved her mommy.

Tamara shifted her head to look at me. I had climbed to my feet and was now standing a few inches away from her. I gave her one of my famous smiles and waved to her. She loves whenever I smile. She turned her little body around and waved back. I came closer to her and scooped her up. I cradled her in my arms and kissed the side of her head.

"You miss Daddy, huh?" I said softly.

She nodded and gripped the green dress that I was wearing. "Why Daddy run away?"

I could not help but giggle at her assumption. "What makes you think that Daddy ran away? He did not run away. He just went to the restaurant to pick up our dinner."

"Why?"

Her little belly growled with hunger, and I pointed at it. "That is why, baby girl. We need to fill up our bellies. Otherwise, they will make all sorts of noises all night, and we will not get our beauty rest."

I wanted Tamara to get her mind off Caleb and remembered that she was still not in her nightgown. I walked to the stairs and told the baby that we had to be quiet because Cal was taking a nap. Cal had an exhausting day, and Caleb and I found him in his bedroom sleeping. We decided to not wake him until dinner was served.

I trudged up the stairs and entered Tamara's room. Her room resembled that of any baby's. Both the floor and walls were pink. Tamara stated to me and Caleb that she would leave if the floor and walls were not pink. Every furniture in here was pink. The rocking chair. The dresser. The crib. Thankfully, not all of her stuff was pink. Her toys, books, and clothes were different colors. Only one piece of clothing was pink, and that was her princess outfit.

The princess dress was her favorite outfit to wear and came with a plastic wand and a fake golden crown. In fact, she had it on right now. But she had to change because Caleb and I would put her to bed right after supper.

I set her on the floor and got out three nightgowns that were different colors and had different patterns. I laid them in front of her and instructed her to pick out the one that she wanted to wear for the night. She was having trouble choosing, so I assisted.

"You have dogs, unicorns, and dolphins," I said, pointing to each one. "You can only choose one."

The baby girl put her hand in her mouth as she stared at the nightgowns. She usually sucks on her hand whenever she makes decisions.

"How about the unicorns, sweetie? They are not pink, but they do have some pink on their horns."

She did not listen to me. She was too busy rolling around on the nightgown with the dogs.

"No, no, no," I said. I picked her up and set her next to me. "You cannot be on top of your clothes. They will get wrinkly and dirty, and I am not in the mood to wash any of them at this time." I picked up the nightgown and smoothed out the wrinkles. Tamara grabbed the nightgown and tugged. "You want this one?"

She clapped her hands. "Mommy!"

I rubbed the top of her head. "I will take that as a yes, Tamara."

Two minutes later, I was carrying the baby out of her bedroom and back downstairs. She was in her nightgown and had her head resting on my shoulder. Even though that she yawned and stretched, she kept telling me that she was not tired.

"I hope that you are not tired," I stated as I set her by her toys. "You have not had supper yet."

I sat on the couch and snatched up the television remote that had been lying on the table. I turned on the television and switched it to the Forlot news. I watch the news once a day in order to prepare myself and my family for any troubles that could step on our property. If my husband or son or daughter were hurt or killed...

I looked at my belly and placed a hand over my stomach. I needed to tell my husband how I was feeling. I needed to admit to Caleb that I wanted to have his child. Yes, I love Cal and Tamara from the bottom of my heart, but they do not share both my and Caleb's DNA. And yes, Caleb is Cal's biological father, but I am not his biological mother.

What are you even saying, Cindy? Cal could care less whether or not you are related to him. Family is not about your blood or where you came from or your status. Cal loves you. He calls you his mommy.

I let out a whoosh of air and leaned back. I always imagined what our kid would be like and how he or she would act. Would our child have hair like mine or Caleb's? What would his or her skin color be? Like mine or Caleb's? Would the child be tough like me? Or have a good heart like Caleb's?

My daydreaming was interrupted by a familiar voice. A voice that I thought that I would never hear again.