Big Daddy Wants Me

13: Dolores.

Six years later…

“Two terms. I knew it all along.”

I turn and look at Fred, who is washing dishes at the sink and frown. “You did not! You said you thought my dad was a crooked politician!”

Fred shakes his head and laughs. “No, I said he probably was a crooked politician like the rest of them. I’m happy to be proved wrong.”

“And he’s happy to be proved wrong that you’re not trying to kill me,” I tease, going in for a kiss. Fred ducks out of the way at the last possible second and throws me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

I let out a little shriek just as Luke comes charging into the kitchen like a madman.

“Momma!” he cries out, waving his toy sword around, doing his best Conan the Barbarian impression.

“Hey, honey! Where is Papa? He’s supposed to be watching you.”

“He’s outside—”

“Right here,” my father says, coming in from out back. He looks tired, but happily so. His second term as governor is taking a lot out of him, so he relishes every minute he gets to spend with the family. “Your little boy’s got more energy than the Tasmanian devil! Better get him into soccer right away.”

“I second that.” My mom smiles, coming in behind my dad. “Or maybe track. Or long distance running? What do you think about that, Luke?”

Luke frowns with his lips, contemplating his options, then sort of shrugs and waves his sword around in the air.

“I think he just wants to be a knight,” Fred remarks, snatching him up with his other arm.

“Yeah!” Luke cries out. “Like King Arthur!”

“Not Aragorn?” my dad suggests.

“King Arthur!” Luke repeats.

“Or Luke Skywalker.” My mom smiles, tousling Luke’s hair as Fred carries us into the living room. We collapse into a pile on the couch, me smiling and Luke a giggling mess. It’s our Sunday family get-together, a tradition we started after Luke was born. We’ve only missed two since then, one due to snow and the other to an emergency situation my father had to deal with.

There was a media frenzy after everything that happened. Between my kidnapping, George Carr’s death, and me being returned to my father, there were reporters basically stalking us for weeks. The internet and TV news were basically dedicated to us until another Kanye West/Kim Kardashian scandal broke and took the attention off of us. Thank God.

Two weeks later, Fred proposed.

It took my dad a month to give his approval. While he understood what Fred did rationally, he still had to wrap his emotions around the whole thing. I guess it’s hard to really appreciate that a man kidnapping your daughter did it for her own good.

Luke was born seven months later.

My little miracle. My baby boy.

He takes after his father. He’s big, strong, fast, and going to grow into quite the man. My mother is already calling him a lady-killer. I keep reminding her that he’s only six.

We moved into the house Fred bought for us but go visit my parents at least once a week.

My father got a second term as governor with massive popular support. The people love him, and he’s done a lot of good for the working class and the environment. People are already starting to worry about how things will end up when he’s gone. But as my dad always says, “All you can do is your best in this world.”

And that’s exactly what Fred is doing now.

He told me all about his life as a fixer, but those days are long behind him. Now he works as a security consultant for law firms and tech companies. The pay is better, it’s far less dangerous, and he says that he finally feels good about what he does for a living.

“And it’s all because of you, angel.”

That’s what he said the night he told me he loved me and that he was leaving his old life behind. That I was the reason he wanted to be a better man. And I’ll never forget that.

“Mommy,” Luke says as Fred swings him upside down by his legs. “Can I—can I play Fortnite yet?!”

“Not yet, baby,” I reply. “No gun-games yet.”

“But why?!”

“Because you’re too young, honey.” I smile. “Those games are for bigger boys.”

“Maybe when I’m seven?” he asks with excitement. I glance at his father, who is also smiling.

“Maybe.”

Luke, as he always does, takes my maybe as a yes and shakes his arms happily. Fred spins him around and plops him down on his back and tickles his sides, causing him to laugh in the way that always melts my heart.

Sometimes I can’t believe the way my life turned out.

Fred told me he wasn’t a Prince Charming, and that life was not a fairy tale, but sometimes I wonder. How poetic is it that the bad man sent to kill me fell in love with me? Maybe I unknowingly cast a spell on him. Maybe it was destiny all along.

All I know is that I have the perfect husband, the perfect child, and a s*x life to make the rest of the world jealous.

“You guys want dessert?” my mom asks from the door. “Crème brulee.”

“We’ll be right in, Mom.”

Fred hoists Luke, still giggling, into his arms and pulls me close. “How about after dessert, a little more dessert for Daddy?”

“Mmm,” I moan back softly into his ear. “I think our little boy will be tired soon, don’t you?”

“I see him falling asleep real soon,” he whispers back. “Did I ever tell you how much I love you?”

“Only a few times a day,” I reply. “But I’ll never get tired of hearing it.”

“Well, then,” he says, pulling me close. “I love you, angel.”

His kiss fills me with warmth and joy, and I give myself a little pinch on the leg just to make sure I’m not dreaming and about to wake up in my chair with my book of Grimm’s Fairy Tales on my lap.

But I don’t. This is real. This is my life. And it’s perfection.

“I love you too, Daddy,” I whisper.