I hear the hollering, laughter, and claps when I look over at the table and see Avery standing on her chair, looking over at everyone in the restaurant as she practices the wave. “What is higher than Code Purple?”
stefano
. . .
“O kay, when are you going to FaceTime me?” my father asks me, or more like, it sounds like he’s a child. “I didn’t talk to her last night because your mother hogged the phone call.”
“I’m getting to the house now. How about you call me back in ten minutes?” I say to him, and he just smiles and hangs up.
I shake my head getting out of the car and walking toward her building’s front door. It’s been a week since I found out I was a father and in that week my life has done a one-eighty. I lived out of a suitcase, more or less, now I have a house with clothes hanging in the closet. I have furniture delivered daily, thanks to my mother and my aunts. I just finished Avery’s room and tomorrow I’m going to invite them over to see it.
I pull open the door and start walking up the steps to her apartment. Every single night I show up for dinner and the three of us eat as if we’ve always done it. I even went out to buy a car seat so I can go and get her from school. I haven’t actually gone, but I’m working up to it. Today I get to take her to the fair and she is so excited.
I knock on the door and hear the sound of feet approaching it. I squat down to see her when she opens the door. Her eyes light up when she sees me. “It’s my dad!” she shouts over her shoulder.
“Hello,” I greet her, opening my arms for her, and she literally launches herself into them. I kiss her neck as she hugs me, and the phone rings in my back pocket. “That’s for you,” I say, pulling the phone out of my pocket and seeing my father’s name trying to FaceTime me.
“I said ten minutes,” I scold when his face comes onto the screen and he scowls at me, “it’s been two.”
“Where is she?” he asks me, and I turn the phone so she can see him. “There she is, my princess.”
“Hi.” She waves her hand, then stops and waves it like they taught her at our dinner. It was crazy and out of control, but it was one of the best nights ever. When my uncles introduced themselves, she turned to me and said, “This is my dad.” I don’t know what else was said, because all I could do was stare at her in awe. The dinner went on way too long, and I felt really guilty when Addison missed her class. I made it up to her last night when I let her do her homework while I took Avery out after dinner to get ice cream.
“I’m going to the fair,” she tells my father, taking the phone and walking into the house with it.
Another thing, my parents talk to her every single day. Without fail they call and FaceTime her.
“Who is she on the phone with?” Addison asks when she steps out of her bedroom wearing light-blue jean shorts and a white cropped tank top, and my cock drains all the blood from my head. Her long hair is loose and over one shoulder. “Um, hello?” she says, looking at me, and all I can do is gawk at her.
“What… sorry?” I ask her, trying to clear my brain. “What did you ask?”
“Who is she on the phone with?” She points at Avery.
“I’m on the phone with GILF,” Avery states, then shakes her head. “Grand-père,” she says the two words that are supposed to be grandfather in French.
“What did I say about using that word?” I hear Addison and close my eyes. “Also, can I have a word with you?” She looks at me, and I feel like I’m in trouble as she turns and heads into Avery’s room.
I follow her, and the whole time, my eyes are on her ass that goes side to side, with the bottom of her hair swaying. “I got this today.” She points at the bed, at the massive box sitting on it. “What is this, you ask?” Addison doesn’t even wait for me to answer. “It’s a care package from your parents.”
I’m about to gush when she holds up her hand. “She got an iPhone and an iPad.” She picks up the two items. “And then she got earrings that I’m going to pretend are not diamonds, but I know better. They sent this by courier. Who sends diamond earrings by courier?”
“Um,” I start to say, “I’m sure they had a tracking number.”
“Stefano,” she snarls between clenched teeth, “she’s four and has an iPhone.”
“I don’t know what to say.” I put my hands on my hips. “What’s the going age for a phone these days?”