15. Heller

15

HELLER

L ark screams all the way home. By the time I park and get them out of their car seat, their face is covered in tears and snot. They cling to me with a fierceness that scares me a little bit. Lark is never like this. Even when they’re tired, they’re usually consolable.

“Dada!” They scream. “Dadaaaa!”

“That man wasn’t your dada,” I say, carrying them to the house. When I get to the front door, it swings open and Eli is on the other side. A few months ago, I would have given Lark to Eli if they were upset, but I continue holding them tight. Maybe Lark is confused about who their dad is because of me. They can sense the bond between us, and I’ve refused to define it in a way that made sense to Lark.

That isn’t fair to them. This insecurity and uncertainty has to end.

I take Lark to the bathroom and begin their bedtime routine without asking Eli for permission. He watches us calmly while I turn on the bath water and grab for Lark’s soft towel. All the while, I sing to Lark. Not the binding song Max hums to them or the nursery rhymes Eli sings, but the lullaby my grandmother sang to me when I was a child. It’s the first time I’ve allowed myself to sing it for Lark. They’ve never been mine to pass down nursery rhymes to.

Lark stops crying and listens, their beautiful brown eyes rapt with attention. They’re so sweet and perfect. My heart aches as I realize how much my grandmother would love to meet them. All I would have to do is ask, and I’m sure Max and Eli would allow me to visit her with Lark. But I haven’t had the courage.

I have the courage now. My baby needs me to be brave.

“C’mon, Lark. Into the tub. Daddy Heller is going to give you a bath,” I say.

Lark’s eyes widen at that. “Dada,” they repeat.

“Yes.” I put my hand on my heart. “Daddy Heller. Dada.”

They clap their hands in delight. “Dada. Baf.”

Tears well in my eyes. “Yes, Lark. Daddy Heller is giving you a bath.”

I don’t even glance back at Eli. He and Max both said it was okay. I’ve been so careful, worried that they’d excise me from Lark’s life. I’ve heard such horror stories from other adoptive parents about how they were treated when their bond with their biological child felt threatening to the adoptive parents. But Max and Eli aren’t like that. They want what’s best for Lark.

Having a relationship with me is what’s best for Lark. I know that now.

It’s overwhelming to admit it. I have to choke down the tears as I lift Lark into the tub. I have plenty of friends. I have Grandma. But I’ve never thought their life was necessarily better because I was in it. Grandma always called me her little fire. Fire is pretty and wild, but it burns anyone who tries to touch it.

I’ve been so afraid of burning Lark, I haven’t allowed myself to admit how much I want to be an important part of their life.

After the bath comes the pajamas and the bedtime story. Lark turns the pages of their chunky board book, pointing to the little animals on each page. They get excited at the end and spin around the nursery. They often do this at night, like they’re expelling all their energy before bed. As they spin, I recognize that energy for what it is: wildness. With Lark, that wildness is cute. But as they get older, will it transform into something else? How much of my wildness is a consequence of my conservative upbringing and how much is genetic?

Will Lark be a little fire too someday?

The question slams into me like a ton of bricks. What if they don’t think they’re good for anyone either? Is that what I’m teaching them? That little fires have to keep their distance? That little fires can love, but not be loved?

I put them in their crib and sing to them with a shaky voice. Not the songs they’re used to, but my grandma’s lullaby again. I sing it to them over and over like an apology. I don’t regret giving them to Eli and Max. Lark has the best alpha daddies they could ever ask for. But I should have realized how important I was to them from the start—how important I wanted to be. They shouldn’t have to be confused about who their dads are and who they aren’t.

After they’re sound asleep, I tiptoe out of the room. Max and Eli are waiting for me in the living room. They even hand me a drink. I take a sip. Sparkling water with lime. They know me well.

“We need to talk,” Max says.

“Yes.”

I sit down on the loveseat across from them. Eli gets up and sits next to me. Max sits on the other side. They’ve been telling me from the very beginning that I’m welcome—that they like me. I haven’t listened because I was too lost in my own insecurities.

“I like it when Lark calls me Dada,” I admit.

They smile without saying a word. They’re waiting for me to say more.

“I think I underestimated how involved I wanted to be in Lark’s life when I gave them up for adoption. Right now, I’m here, but I’m still Uncle Heller. I think that’s confusing for them because I feel like a dad. I see them as often as their dads and…” my voice breaks with emotion. “I love them like a dad. I think they can feel that.”

Eli wraps his arms around me and gives me a soft hug. “We know. We’ve been here the whole time, remember?”

“I’m worried you might feel threatened by my relationship with Lark,” I admit.

“No,” Max says. “In fact, we wanted to talk to you about legally becoming one of Lark’s parents. There are laws that would allow that. Lots of polar bear shifters are polyamorous, so it’s common for us to have more than two legal guardians. We could add you as Lark’s third dad.”

I cry. That’s all I can do because it feels so overwhelming and right. When I had Lark, I knew I didn’t want to raise a child alone. But I thought I had to give Lark up because that’s the only other option people give pregnant omegas: parent all alone or give your child to a couple who will supposedly love them better than you. But maybe those omegas deserve more choices.

They deserve people like Max and Eli.

“Thank you,” I manage to say between sobs. “Thank you so much.”

I conceived Lark with two alphas. They weren’t ready to love each other, so they had sex with me at the same time. I still don’t know which one of them is the alpha father, and they didn’t want to find out. But Max and Eli are ready to love. They’re my other, better choice. And they’re my family, I just didn’t know it yet.

Maybe some people are strong enough to touch fire and not get burned.