I was holding hands with my daughter for the very first time. I would never, ever forget this moment as long as I lived. I wanted to cry like a big-ass baby.

Carrie’s big blue eyes shifted downward to look at our hands and then up into my own eyes, tilting her little curly head, as if she too sensed that this was a big moment. She smiled broadly, flashing those perfect dimples, and my heart melted like a snow cone in Phoenix. I wanted to pick her up, to hold her and kiss her, but I didn’t want to freak her the fuck out. I was a virtual stranger to her, after all.

But I was her dad! Holy fucking spicy Cheetos! I was her father!

As Carrie and I stared and smiled at one another, I became aware of Blaire’s eyes on me. “Ax?” she said, and I reluctantly peeled my gaze from my kid as Blaire handed me a business card. “I put my cell number on the back. Call me tonight after seven, and I can come over to your place or meet you somewhere.”

I nodded dumbly and ran my fingers over the messily scrawled number on the back… the number I had been dying to have for five fucking years. I realized I was still holding Carrie’s hand, so I slowly let it go. I didn’t want to. I wanted to hold her chubby little hand for hours, for days even. “I’ll see you soon, pretty girl,” I told her, longing to touch her face.

I turned away before I did anything weird like that and started walking back down the aisle. I stopped short after a few steps and turned around for one more look. Blaire was lifting Carrie out of the cart and setting her on the floor, and as if feeling the weight of my stare, she looked up at me. “Blaire,” I said quietly, “you might want to teach Carrie how to spell Broxton.”

Blaire sucked in a deep breath and then smiled nervously at me on the exhale. Jesus, these two girls and their dimples were going to be the death of me.

I walked out of the store with my basket of groceries still in my hand until an employee caught me in the parking lot. “Sir? Sir! You have to pay for those.”

I looked at him blankly until he indicated the basket containing eggs and some produce. “Oh, shit. I’m so sorry. I got distracted by… well, never mind. Let me come back in, and I’ll pay for this stuff.”

The man frowned at me, and I was afraid he was going to call the police when his eyes went wide as saucers. “Holy crap! You’re… you’re…”