The World's Best Dad. Valerie Taylor

you crazy? You?” Julie winced at the scorn in the woman’s voice. “Adopt a five-year-old?”

      “Why shouldn’t I? I love her. Isn’t that what matters the most?”

      “Have you even given this any thought? You live in a studio apartment, you have no money, you’re twenty-five years old, and you’ve never cared for a child except for trips to the zoo and the aquarium. It’s not all fun and field trips, you know. Worst of all, you’re single. Do you know how difficult it is to raise a child with two parents? And Marisa, with her attachment issues? She needs a full-time mother, not someone who’s going to dump her in day care ten hours a day.” She’d turned away, disgusted, and Julie had waited alone in the hallway for Marisa to come back downstairs.

      JULIE WAS FIGHTING TEARS, just remembering. She looked over at Ben, who had set his coffee cup down while he listened to the story. His eyes held empathy, understanding, and she could have lost herself inside them. “Anyway, she wasn’t the only one who brought that up. And they were all right. Marisa needs two parents, so she can have a parent at home with her.” She looked up at Ben. “And I’m going to fix that if it’s the last thing I ever do as a parent.” Julie blinked away her tears and gave a self-deprecating laugh. “I’m sorry, what a story to start off the day, huh? That’ll teach you to pry.” She grinned.

      “I’m glad you told me.” He reached out his hand and set it on top of hers, his palm warm and rough on the back of her hand. She looked up into his face, startled by the small thrill of warmth she felt deep inside, and for a moment they stared into each other’s eyes. “But how are you going to fix—”

      From the living room, Joe let out a shriek. “I can’t see! You’re in the way!”

      Ben’s gaze flickered away from her face, toward the noise. “Hey, what’s going on in there?” He rose, and Julie followed him into the living room, her hand still warm where he’d touched her.

      Joe sat on the couch, one sock on, his pajama top off, staring at the screen. Marisa sat beside him, between him and the television, pressed back as far into the cushions as she could.

      “Joe, you aren’t even dressed yet.” Ben reached over and snapped the television off.

      Joe looked at his father in horror, then threw himself backward on the couch with a shriek. “No! Daddy, it’s not over yet!”

      “I know it’s not over. I told you as long as you got dressed while you watched, I’d leave it on. You didn’t get dressed.”

      “I’ll get dressed now!”

      “Sorry, buddy. That was the deal.” Ben reached for a sock, and Joe kicked at his hand, then looked at his father in half-defiant dread at what he’d done.

      Marisa gasped and shrank against Julie, and Julie reached a protective, reassuring arm around her daughter.