Chapter 6: Ms. Summers and Office Dinners

Nathan’s phone on the desk suddenly lit up. I peeked over and saw a photo, blurting out, “Wow, you have a picture of Mom from before!”

She looked so young, wearing a big college sweatshirt, smiling at the camera like she knew a secret.

Before Nathan could say anything, I flashed my smartwatch. “Look, I have a photo with Mom too.”

On my tiny screen, Mom was holding me when I was two, both of us grinning. It was my favorite picture.

Nathan stared at it for a long time, then finally asked, “Why do you think I’m your dad and not someone else?”

“Mom looks at your photo and cries,” I said quietly. “I saw her do it.”

This wasn’t from the comments. I’d seen it with my own eyes—Mom curled up on the couch late at night, phone glowing, shoulders shaking. I didn’t understand then, but I do now.

The other man at the door cleared his throat. “Mr. Carter, the meeting is about to start.”

Nathan stood up, still frowning. “Have Ms. Summers come take care of her. Before the meeting ends, don’t let anyone pick her up.”

Soon, a pretty lady with sparkly nails and cinnamon gum came in. She set down a pile of snacks and beamed at me. “Sweetie, want to play with me?”

“Okay!”

Ms. Summers patted my cheek, then again, like she was checking if I was real. She grinned, “So, what’s your relationship with our Mr. Carter?”

“He’s my dad.”

She froze, then leaned in, voice full of mock drama. “Him? He could have such a cute daughter?”

She rolled her eyes, then winked at me like we were sharing a secret. While she let me color with her highlighters, she whispered, “Bosses, right? Mine’s got the emotional range of a stapler.”

Mom’s meeting ran long. When I got bored, I texted her on my smartwatch, telling her I was okay.

About an hour later, Nathan returned, face still stormy. Ms. Summers stood up. “Mr. Carter.”

I had my mouth full of chips and mumbled, “Daddy.”

He glanced at Ms. Summers. “You can go now.”

“Sure thing, boss.” She winked at me again and sashayed out, rolling her eyes behind his back.

When the door closed, Nathan sat down. “Your mom still hasn’t contacted you? Maybe she doesn’t want you, so she left you with me on purpose?”

I put my hands on my hips. “Nathan Carter, don’t you dare talk about my mom like that.”

He wiped chip crumbs from my mouth, sighing. “No manners, didn’t you just call me Daddy?”

“Mom likes you, so you’re my dad. If Mom liked someone else, someone else could be my dad too.”

He snorted. “Mommy’s girl.”

I nodded, hands on my hips. “That’s right. I am Mommy’s girl.”

He just shook his head, but there was something almost like a smile in his eyes.

As dinnertime came, my stomach rumbled. I tugged his sleeve. “Daddy, I’m hungry.”

“Didn’t you just eat a bunch of snacks? Hungry already?” He poked my belly, like he was checking if I’d hidden cookies there.

“Snacks are snacks, meals are meals,” I said, as if it was the law.

He sighed, called for takeout, and muttered, “Kids these days.”

It was the first meal I had with Dad. He ordered takeout—chicken tenders and mac and cheese, the kind you get from the fancy deli downstairs, not the squishy preschool kind. He tried to cut my chicken into tiny pieces and fussed with my napkin, but I did it myself. He watched, half amused, half worried I’d spill on the nice tablecloth. The office lights made everything look golden as the sun dipped below the city outside.

After dinner, Mom still hadn’t come. I was sleepy, and when I didn’t see any new messages from her, I leaned against Dad and nodded off. His heartbeat thudded under my ear, steady and strange, like a song I’d never heard but wanted to learn.