How do you explain to a young daughter something you hadn't been prepared for her to find out? Sometimes, a picture is worth a thousand words. :)

Family Pictures

Copyright 2007 by Heather Rose Brown

As the three of us got comfortable on the overstuffed sofa, I looked over our daughter's head into the warm, loving eyes of my wife, Margaret. My heart reached out to her and again posed the question I had asked a number of times in as many different ways as I could think of in the long discussion we had just gone through. The amazing woman who had touched my soul a lifetime ago, the one who didn't flinch once no matter what secrets I revealed, simply nodded, her gentle smile answering my unspoken question more completely than mere words could have conveyed.

I looked down at the delicate wonder sitting between us and examined the worried face peering up at me. "Angie, do you know why your Mommy and I wanted to talk to you tonight?"

Our daughter chewed on her lower lip for a moment. "Am I in trouble?"

Margaret gently squeezed the tiny hand she had been holding. "No baby, you're not in trouble. Why would you think that?"

Angie turned to her mother. Even though I couldn't see her face, she still sounded uneasy. "Well, Daddy kinda had a heart attack when I dragged that box outta the garage this afternoon."

That moment of sheer terror came back to me in a flash. If Margaret hadn't been there to hold onto me, I might have fainted right in the middle of the crowd of neighbors milling around our driveway and searching through our collection of old clothes, forgotten books, and other items that had gone unused for too long.

Our child turned back to me, obvious concern now mixed with the worry, when I wrapped an arm around her shoulder. I did my best to give her a reassuring smile. "Sweetheart, you didn't do anything wrong. I had asked you to bring out anything that looked like it might sell at the garage sale. Also, I wasn't having a heart attack. I was just a little ... surprised when you found Becky's clothes."

The name nearly caught in my throat. I hadn't been expecting to share it with Angie for a long time. Now that it was out in the air, I knew the rest would be coming out soon. My heart thudded in my chest as I began to wonder if I was taking things too fast. Angie was very intelligent and surprisingly perceptive, but was that enough for an eight-year-old to understand what I was planning to say? Did I have what it took to explain things in a way that would make sense to her?

My wife reached out with her free hand and stroked my arm. I glanced up at her and the anxiety that had been building faded in the wake of her easy grin. The trust in her eyes restored a bit of my self-confidence as a parent.

When I looked back at Angie, her worried expression had changed to her normal insatiable curiosity. "You gonna tell me 'bout Becky now?"

I pulled back on the smile that had somehow slipped from my face. "Actually, I was thinking of showing her to you."

I barely managed to hold back a giggle when her brow furrowed exactly the way her mother's did when she was confused. After giving her shoulder a quick squeeze, I turned towards the end-table nearest me, both to hide my grin and to open the door I had unlocked before sitting down.

Once I had pulled a heavy, black, vinyl-clad album from the end-table and laid it in my lap, our daughter squealed with delight. "Ooooo! Family pictures!"

"I really hadn't thought of it before, but I guess you could say Becky is a part of the family."

"How's she related?"

Even though I knew Angie was a smart little girl, I was still surprised by her question. Fortunately, as always, Margaret stepped in, just when I needed her. "Why don't you let Daddy show you the photos first, then we can start telling you a little about her?"

"Okay, I can wait." Angie beamed at both of us before turning her attention to the album. Once I had settled it in her lap and opened the cover to the first page, all three of us began looking through the photographs. My wife and I let our child decide when to turn the pages, since it was her first time seeing Becky.

After a few minutes, Angie looked up at me, obviously confused. "Daddy, is she a grown-up?"

Once again, her question took me by surprise. I was tempted to let Margaret tackle it, but I felt it was important for me to give an answer. "Well, yes and no."

I mentally kicked myself for giving such a half-baked reply. Of course, it wasn't enough for our daughter. "Whatcha mean by that?"

Taking in a deep breath, I collected what thoughts hadn't abandoned me before answering. "I guess what I'm trying to say is ... she's a little girl in a lot of ways, but she has a grown-up body."

Angie blinked at me, still looking a little confused, before turning back to the album. "She really seems nice. Why ain't I seen her before?"

Margaret stroked the back of her head. "I have to agree with you. Becky is a very nice little girl. As far as why you haven't seen her before ... I think your daddy should answer that."

I could feel my cheeks warming at my spouse's words and was having more difficulty pulling together anything resembling coherent thought. "You see ... umm ... what I mean is, that's not an easy question to answer."

I nearly choked when the sweetest little girl in the world looked up from the album and asked me, "Is there something wrong with her?"

While I struggled with all the implications of Angie's question, my dear, loving wife answered it with unmitigated confidence. "No, there's nothing at all wrong with Becky."

"Then why ain't I seen her?"

At this point, I gave up trying to find the best way to answer our daughter's questions and simply spoke from my heart. "Actually, you have. She's ..." I closed my eyes and scraped up the last bit of willpower I could find. "She's me."

I had been bracing myself for laughter, but all I heard was silence. A few seconds later, a small hand rested on top of mine. "Daddy, you ain't teasing, are you?"

Instead of amusement, I saw a searching gaze when I opened my eyes. Too shocked for words, all I could do was shake my head.

Not a muscle moved in Angie's face, but the sadness in her eyes just about broke my heart. "Does that mean you ain't my daddy?"

I pulled the brave little girl into my lap just as I felt a hot tear sliding down my cheek. Margaret picked up the album and set it down on the floor before shifting closer and wrapping her arms around both of us. Somehow, my wife's strong embrace helped me pull my emotions back together. I shifted back a little until I could look our daughter in the eye. "I will always always be your daddy, no matter what. Becky is just ... a different part of me."

Angie looked down at her hands and seemed to be deep in thought for a minute before she looked back up at me with a familiar, impish grin. "Can I see her tonight?"

Her mother's tone was gentle but firm. "Not tonight, love.You have school tomorrow and it's already past your bed time."

As usual, our daughter was in her element when it came to bedtime bartering. "Can I just see her pictures then?"

Fortunately, my wife and I had anticipated this ploy and I had at least one ready answer. "Yes, you can look at it in bed for a little while if you'd like, but only if you agree to get your jammies on now and don't try to argue about going to bed."

It only took a few moments before Angie answered, "Well ... okay, but can I see Becky later?"

I looked to my wife, who grinned and nodded. "Okay, we'll see what we can do."

Obviously satisfied with the bargaining session, the most amazing little girl in the world wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed my cheek. "G'night Daddy. I love you."

I hugged her back and kissed her on the forehead. "I love you too. Sweet dreams."

Once I let her go, our daughter slipped from my lap and gave her mother a hug and kiss goodnight. "G'night, Mommy. Love you too."

After hugging and kissing her back, Margaret said, "Love you too, baby. Now head upstairs and get changed. We'll bring the album up to you in a few minutes."

Nearly bouncing with excitement, Angie ran across the living room to the staircase. Just as she was about to put a foot on the bottom step, she froze and turned around.

Wondering if she was going to try one more time to stay up later I asked, "Did you forget something, sweetheart?"

"Uh huh."

Without another word of explanation, Angie walked up to me, hugged me tightly, then whispered, "I love you too, Becky."