Sweet Temptation
Page 119
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Kopano speaks to Alile in Chichewa, and Zania interprets.
“He tells her Kaidan is his friend and wants to know why she calls him Father.”
I hold my breath as Alile leans against me with complete comfort and familiarity, her head turned toward Kopano as she answers him. Again Kope clears his throat.
“She says, ‘In my dream, he was my father.’”
I can’t breathe. I . . .
This girl dreamed of me. It had to be an angel, or else she has a very special gift that few are given and few are privy to. My eyes dart to Anna and she seems to be holding her breath, eyes wide with wonder. This is huge. This cannot be brushed aside or laughed off or ignored.
I try to imagine leaving this orphanage with Onani and Mandala, leaving this little girl behind. A fierce, urgent, possessive urge rises up in me like a windstorm and I wrap my arms around her. I will not leave her. I will never let anyone hurt her again.
She’s my daughter. A gift. A blessing. Something I never thought I wanted, but now I’d fight anyone who tried to take her from me. My heart stretches wide to let her in, and I am full with the rightness of it. Alile snuggles closer, as if her home is right there in my lap. When the burn begins behind my eyes and the moisture builds, I’m too overcome to bother stopping it.
The tears are hot on my cheeks, and I wipe them away. I don’t feel weak. In fact, I’ve never felt stronger. Anna takes my hand and I hold tight to her. Onani and Mandala play at our feet, the baby patting Alile’s bare foot.
My wife. My sons. My daughter.
I will do right by them. I swear it. I am my father’s son, but he does not live in me. This, right here, is who I choose to be. I imagine the Maker, Belial, Patti, Mariantha, and all the angels smiling down on me, saying, “It is good.”
And I have to agree. It’s damn good.
“He tells her Kaidan is his friend and wants to know why she calls him Father.”
I hold my breath as Alile leans against me with complete comfort and familiarity, her head turned toward Kopano as she answers him. Again Kope clears his throat.
“She says, ‘In my dream, he was my father.’”
I can’t breathe. I . . .
This girl dreamed of me. It had to be an angel, or else she has a very special gift that few are given and few are privy to. My eyes dart to Anna and she seems to be holding her breath, eyes wide with wonder. This is huge. This cannot be brushed aside or laughed off or ignored.
I try to imagine leaving this orphanage with Onani and Mandala, leaving this little girl behind. A fierce, urgent, possessive urge rises up in me like a windstorm and I wrap my arms around her. I will not leave her. I will never let anyone hurt her again.
She’s my daughter. A gift. A blessing. Something I never thought I wanted, but now I’d fight anyone who tried to take her from me. My heart stretches wide to let her in, and I am full with the rightness of it. Alile snuggles closer, as if her home is right there in my lap. When the burn begins behind my eyes and the moisture builds, I’m too overcome to bother stopping it.
The tears are hot on my cheeks, and I wipe them away. I don’t feel weak. In fact, I’ve never felt stronger. Anna takes my hand and I hold tight to her. Onani and Mandala play at our feet, the baby patting Alile’s bare foot.
My wife. My sons. My daughter.
I will do right by them. I swear it. I am my father’s son, but he does not live in me. This, right here, is who I choose to be. I imagine the Maker, Belial, Patti, Mariantha, and all the angels smiling down on me, saying, “It is good.”
And I have to agree. It’s damn good.
