I refused to think about her until the day "it" arrived on my doorstep with a note from her. It wasn't that I didn't want to think of her. I just couldn't. It hurt too much. Walking away from Baby had been the hardest thing I'd ever done in my life. It was too painful to think that I had fought to be with Baby, the whole summer, only for her to practically dump me after the final dance. I would have married her and I would have given up everything to be with her, but Baby wasn't prepared to give anything up for me.

I guess it wasn't fair of me to expect her to. She had worked her whole life towards college and I knew that the Peace Core was her dream. I would never have stopped her, just been there through it all to celebrate her triumphs. That would have been enough.

I returned home to work with my father as a house painter and taught dance at the community college, pushing all thoughts of Baby way down into the pit of my stomach, where I could forget she existed. I had fling after fling and I lived for the moment. I didn't know that the previous summer could come back to haunt me. The harsh reminder was in the shape of an infant girl, Dad found on the doorstep one evening in a basket with a note.

The realization hit me as I studied the familiar handwriting in the note. Her neatly written words brought everything flooding back. "Dear Johnny," it said.

This is Penny, your daughter. I didn't know what else to do with her. I can't keep a baby and go to college and to leave her with Mom and Dad would mean she would grow up feeling as trapped as I was. I know you'll look after her and keep her safe. I also know you will bring her up to be a well adjusted, humbled young lady who knows she is loved. I know you will love her as much you loved me and as I loved... still love you.

Baby

I folded the note and stuffed it into a drawer in my room. I stared down at my sleeping daughter, with her little button nose and tuff of golden brown hair. "I guess I'm your Daddy, huh?" I whispered, gently touching her little nose. Her little body twitched under the pink wrap and she began to make suckling sounds, but she remained asleep. I carried the basket with the sleeping baby over to the bedside table and placed it gently on top. I watched her sleep for quite a long time before I lay back against my pillows with my arms folded behind my head.

How could this have happened? Why hadn't she told me before now? How was I going to take care of a child, when I could barely care for myself? I this thoughts circled my head until I drifted off to a light doze. I tossed and turned for hours until I finally sunk into unconsciousness, but it wasn't to last. Penny began to cry. I rose and picked her up out of the basket.

"What's the matter, little one?" I nursed her for ages, but she would not settle. "Come on," I whispered. "Please stop crying."

"Maybe she's wet," my mother's voice cut into the noise.

"Do we have any diapers?" I asked.

"Well luckily, your father thought to get some, last night after she arrived." She smiled.

I followed her to the bathroom where a packet of diapers stood on the counter. Mom laid a towel down over the counter and proceeded to unpack a diaper. I stood, helpless as I watched Mom change Penny. "How am I going to do this, Mom?"

"You'll learn." She simply said and I hoped she was right.