The baker sat at his table, watching the very young girl sit on the living room rug toying with her doll. She seemed perfectly content to just sit there by herself. There were moments when he knew what to do with the child, but other times he was completely lost. The baker had hardly been around young children in his life, without experience, how could he raise a child alone?
"Maybe I just wasn't meant to have children," he thought to himself, looking down at the grain of the wood that ran so smoothly on his table.
But the baker knew he didn't mean it. He had wanted to have the child with his wife for the longest time. That was the thing though. He wanted to raise the child with his loving wife at his side. He looked up at the girl, still playing silently with the doll.
She looked just like her. The babe was a living figure of the baker's diseased wife. The girl's soft, mousy, brown hair and bright, intelligent eyes were perfect. Just like she was.
Suddenly the girl looked up. "Daddy?"
The baker felt his heart melt at his daughter's words. How could he regret something as perfect a gift as this? Even though he couldn't have everything he had hoped and wished for, he could get what was second best.
"Yes?" He replied, sliding from his chair to sit on the floor with his daughter.
Then again, it wasn't really second best. In the end, they were happy and he had everything he had ever wanted.
"I love you."
It wasn't second best. Just different.
"I love you too."