Chapter 41

forty-one

LIAM

I looked around the community library in Sunrise Bay. I'd seen the small red-brick building a few times but had never been inside.

As we walked past the check-in desk, I smiled at the librarian. For as long as I could remember, I'd loved coming to libraries and exploring the shelves.

Amy pulled my hand forward. "The children's books are this way."

My eyes widened. Amy was a good reader, but I hadn't seen any signs telling us where to go.

That didn't stop her. She took wide steps across the floor, leaping from one carpet square to the next.

I looked at her feet, wondering why she was jumping like a frog. When I saw the stickers on the carpet, I smiled. Placed about three feet apart were pictures of lion paws. Maybe it was some kind of secret code that led children to their final destination.

As soon as she saw the colorful children's area, Amy gave up following the paws. She ran across the room and stood in front of a playhouse that looked like a castle .

She slowly circled the wooden building, looking more impressed by the minute. "Can I go inside?"

I knelt beside her. "I think that would be a great idea."

With her head bowed, Amy ducked through the front doors, reappearing a few seconds later. "You should come inside, too," she said excitedly. "There's a throne and some pictures and a little table with books on it."

I crawled through the door. I could see why Amy was so excited. Anyone who liked fairytales would have been right at home with the red velvet chair and books about faraway lands.

"Can we stay at the library?" Amy asked.

"Only for a little while. I promised Paul we'd only be gone for half an hour."

Amy frowned. "Is that a long time?"

"It's long enough. If we don't see everything today, we can come back another time."

That brought a smile to Amy's face. She sat on the velvet chair and sighed. "Do you think a real princess lives here?"

I rubbed my jaw. What did I say to a six-year-old who adored princesses as much as Santa and the tooth fairy? "I think a princess would love living here, but this castle was made for the library. That way, everyone can enjoy it."

"If I was a princess, I'd stay here forever."

"I'm sure you'd be very happy. Do you want to look for Winnie the Pooh?"

Amy jumped out of the chair. "Yes, please."

Before I could turn around, Amy ran through the door. I found her a few seconds later, happily flicking through the picture books.

When I walked across to the bookshelves, Amy followed me. She told me about the books Paul read to her, the library they'd joined in Milwaukee. She was a regular chatterbox, a mini-expert on fairy tales, and one of the most resilient six-year-olds I'd ever met.

"Liam? Can I tell you a secret?"

I looked at her serious face and knelt on the floor. "What do you want to tell me?"

"I told Mommy about my Christmas wish when I saw her star last night."

"Is it the same thing you told Santa when you called him on his hotline?"

Amy shook her head. "I asked Santa for a puppy, but Uncle Paul said we can't have one. I asked mommy if you could stay with us. You could be my daddy."

That wiped any trace of a smile off my face. "A daddy?"

"I love Uncle Paul," she whispered. "But I want a daddy who builds snowmen with me and takes me sledding. Someone like you." Her eyes pleaded with me. "Would you be my daddy?"

My throat tightened. I knew how much Amy wanted to be like other children, but becoming Amy's father was taking her Christmas wish to a whole new level. "I can't be your daddy."

"Why not?"

"Because I haven't been a daddy in so long that I've forgotten how."

Amy leaned forward and touched my chest. "Santa said it's in here. You take care of Uncle Paul and me. That's what daddies do."

I remembered Paul's fear that Amy was becoming too attached to me. I'd tried distancing myself from her, but it was difficult when we were staying in the same house.

"What if I was your friend?" I watched Amy's face carefully. "We could still do exciting things together. "

"But that's not a daddy."

"No, it isn't. But it could be just as good."

Amy looked thoughtful. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. We could still make things and play in the snow."

She looked longingly at another man and a young boy reading a book together. "Do you think I'll ever get a daddy?"

"I hope so," I said softly. "And when it happens, he'll be the best daddy in the world. Do you want to find Winnie the Pooh, now?"

Amy nodded and held my hand.

When we found the book, Amy placed two beanbags side by side. She wiggled into one of them, waiting for me to start.

As I read the beginning of chapter one, my heart clenched tight. Coming to the library had stirred up a lot of memories of my daughter—memories that involved honey sandwiches and picnics in an imaginary Hundred Acre Wood.

Memories that were as precious as the little girl tucked beside me. I only hoped that one day, Amy's Christmas wish came true.