I live right on Lake Superior, and there's this super long lakewalk I like to take just about every day this summer. Whilst on one of my journeys I formed a picture in my head of a girl with copper hair staring into her reflection of a black truck. This was kinda what spouted out from it.
I can't begin to assume I know what kind of person Mark Calaway is, but I have the hardest time imagining that he would be a terrible man in any sense of the word. I feel like he's a man who cares a great deal about his family, as well as his children, even if it may be quietly or with a booming temper as so many imagine him to have, and he probably does have. He believes in respect, believes strongly in right and wrong, and has a good sense of morals. Sometimes when I'm lost in my thoughts I can't help but draw personality parallels between him and my own father, like its not that foreign a concept to believe. This is kind of a reflection of that. Enjoy.
Oh, and I'm well aware that that particular of episode of Smackdown! mentioned in the story most likely wasn't in Minneapolis, but meh.
Songs that have acted as a muse while I wrote:
Giving Tree - Plain White T's
Dark Necessities - Red Hot Chili Peppers
The full album of An Awesome Wave - Alt-J
I suggest you give em a listen. Its all beautiful music. :)
Amber rubbed her arm nervously, staring at her slightly warped reflection in the hood of the black Chevrolet truck. It was a damn big truck, she thought uselessly, watching the light jump off its reflective surface. She would admit she was one tall girl, standing at 6'2", but the top of the grill on this behemoth met right where her heart would be, she mused sparing a glance at her chest. A frown graced her features as she studied the vehicle. Who in their right mind needed a truck this big?
"You alright?" his voice drawled out to her, a southern accent lingering on his words. He startled her, waltzing through the parking lot silently and now watching her with an intent gaze. His sudden appearance made her jump as she was seemingly caught up in her thoughts.
Of course, a man as big as him would need a truck this giant.
Brow furrowing in frustration, Amber bit her lip. She wasn't usually so high strung, but everything about this new environment was spooking her, especially this man that stood just behind her. Used to being the tallest in her family of two, she found that kin who managed to be taller than herself made her feel odd. She turned around to face him, her eyes gauging the large man with a wary stare. They were the color of the very jewel she had gotten her name from, sparkling in the sunlight.
He was massive in every sense of the word, his shoulders broad and stocky. His auburn hair was pulled back in a long braid that hung down his neck. Lightly his big hand grazed his matching goatee as he studied her. The look in his olive green eyes reflected the same sentiment. In theory both of them should have been close considering their blood relationship. Unfortunately, there was never a more distant pair than this man and his daughter.
Amber cleared her throat, giving a single curt nod her gaze fell to the asphalt, refusing to meet his once more as she brushed her stick straight copper hair behind her ear.
With a sigh Mark Calaway strode over to the driver's side door of the truck and slid inside, unlocking the rest of the vehicle and watching as his daughter clambered easily into the leather seat. A twinge of a smile pulled at his lips as he couldn't help but think of her mother and how much difficulty the woman had trying to get in his truck. A short little spitfire she was, only standing at five foot three. But Amber had dipped her toes into his side of the gene pool, falling only a few inches short of him. It was interesting being able to look his daughter in the eye without having to crane his head down so far.
She was a beauty, he thought, watching her from the corner of his eye as he turned the key in the ignition. Mark still couldn't believe he helped make that young woman that on the opposite side of the cab. Damn if she wasn't lucky enough not to get her looks from his ugly mug, he mused with a chuckle as he began what would feel like the lengthiest trek to his home in his life. He had made this trip from the airport in multitude before, but this moment in time the circumstances were different. The tension that sat between them was thick muddled with the stifling heat of the texan air making for a most uncomfortable car ride. For this his hand darted to a button on the dashboard, activating the air conditioning. Begrudgingly she would have to get used to this heat.
It had been about thirteen years since Mark Calaway last saw his daughter. An unfortunate fact, but a fact none the less. He was a dumbass kid who got her mother Melissa knocked up a year before his career with the WWE took off, and only felt it his responsibility to her that they tied the knot then and there. Amber was then born the March before his debut in Survivor Series. Exactly twelve days before his own birthday, he remembered. The one thing he always could be counted on to remember, that her birthday doubled would be his.
It was soon after Survivor Series he found that trying to juggle a family with a wrestling career was a terrible idea. He tried, he really did try his damnedest to be there for Amber as much as he could, but the stress suddenly became too much. They divorced when Amber was two, and compromised that Mark would do what he could to stay in Amber's life if he so wished. That worked for the better part of a year before he and Melissa were way too far at each other's throats and he decided it would be better if Amber just had no memory of him. So he left. He made sure though to send Amber a birthday card every year though. Signed from a friend, so that she wouldn't start asking questions about him early on, but his conscience could let him get on with life.
He thought about his little girl every day though. Some nights he would lay awake in whatever hotel he was in he would imagine just what she looked like at her age. He wondered how she got along in life. Stepping onto the bus on her first days of school. If she had made any friends. If she knew how to ride a bike. If she was being treated right or being bullied. If she knew how to drive. If she had any boyfriends. If she even knew what love was.
Thirteen years since he had last seen his daughter, and it just so happened to be that he was to be in Minnesota, where she and her mother lived, when he had gotten the fateful call. A call that would change both of their lives forever.
Mark was working a live taping of Smackdown in Minneapolis the night it all happened. It was about six am the following morning when the phone rang in his hotel room.
"This better be damn good if you're bothering to wake me up this early in the damn morning!" He growled into the receiver.
The woman on the other side was not seemingly intimidated at all. "Mark Calaway?"
"Yeah. What is it?" he grunted, sitting up and trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes.
He could hear a tapping noise on the other end. "Are you familiar with a woman by the name of Melissa Bomgarten?"
His brow furrowed. He hadn't heard that name in years. "Yeah, she's my ex-wife and mother of my child. Is something wrong?"
"Sir, my name is Sarah Wilsen, I'm a doctor from the Hennepin County Medical Center in Minneapolis. I regret to inform you that Ms. Bomgarten was in a rather nasty car accident and is here at our hospital in critical condition."
The blood in his veins ran cold, face turning white as a sheet. A car accident? Please god no…what if Amber was with her? "Shit…do you know if her—our daughter was with her?"
"Amber, was it? She was not involved in the crash. She's perfectly fine, but she is here and she had listed you as her only living relative."
"Uh, yeah, that's probably right." Mark scratched his head trying to think if Melissa had any other family.
"Sir, your daughter is still a minor. I'll be honest, things are not looking good for your ex-wife. Unless you would like me to contact social services and hand her over to them I'd suggest you come on over. I'll bet she could use her father right now."
His eyes snapped open, heart constricting in his chest. Her father. His daughter. His daughter needed him. Her mother might be dying and she needed her daddy. "Tell her I'll be right there."
Thirteen years didn't make a damn bit of difference as far as Amber was concerned, he considered, much to his surprise. He still loved his little girl like none other. Mark still couldn't relinquish the heart-breaking sight he found when he burst into the waiting room. His eyes had locked on her instantly, her form crumpled in a heap sobbing hysterically against the wall hiding beside some of the chairs.
Mark crouched down to her level and bit his lip, staring at his sobbing child. He was unsure as to what he could do. As to what would be deemed okay. As far as he knew she wouldn't know who he was.
Hesitantly he lifted a big hand, leaving it hovering just above her shoulder. Softly he murmured her name. "Amber…honey?"
Her gaze snapped up to him, eyes red and puffy from the tears. She studied him for a moment, failing to breathe as her eyes searched his. Quick as a wink Amber threw herself into his arms. Her voice was a whisper, barely audible over the bustling waiting room. "Daddy..." The shuddering procured from her heaving sobs rattled his own body, breaking his heart more and more.
So she knew. Instinctively his large arms pulled her tight to his chest. His heart thudded through his ribcage, unable to cope with the overwhelming rush of emotions of holding his little girl in his arms. Even after what felt like an eternity, it still felt right.
Mark still wondered how she knew he was her dad. Maybe it was an instinctual thing.
What he didn't know though, was that Amber was fully aware of who her father was ever since she could remember. Her mother did not appreciate the idea of her growing up without knowing who her father was. What an amazing man he had come to be, she always said. Her mother was so proud of him. For the life of her Amber couldn't understand why. What was there to be proud of in a man that ran out on his wife and kid? Then one day her mother introduced her to the world of wrestling.
She was about eight when her mother caught her up past her bedtime entranced with an episode of Monday night Raw that had appeared on the television. With rapt attention Amber watched as a big man clad in tight black clothes with long black hair and eye makeup stood in the middle of the ring, hands on his hips with a look of pure amusement in his eyes. He was watching a bald man clad in wrestling boots and trunks dangle helplessly from a T shape that was hanging up in the air.
Turning to her mother and pointing to the man, she asked is that him?
With a nod her mother then showed Amber a tape of her father fighting in his debut match as the Undertaker. From then on she was mesmerized with his character as well as the whole sport, and she never ever missed wrestling so long as he was fighting that night. She squealed with delight watching him win. Her mother was just as enthusiastic watching him wrestle. It was an important tradition for them to watch every show. Ever since she first saw him fight she told her mother she needed to see him for real.
Finally got my wish, Amber thought with a grimace. Her mother had bought her a ticket to watch Smackdown live in Minneapolis as a present for her sixteenth birthday.
With a groan she pursed her eyes shut and leaned toward the window, her head meeting the glass with a thud. Mark cast a worried glance over to her.
"Amber?"
"'m fine." She mumbled weakly. Silently tears slithered from her closed eyes as heavy sobs began to rack her body.
Mark frowned, reaching over to rub her back gently without so much as a word.
Her eyes opened slightly to observe the surroundings of her new home state. She doubted winters here could be as nasty as Minnesota.
Winter had just been tapering off with its usual Minnesota good-bye, leaving a typical freak snowstorm in its midst the April night of Smackdown. But Melissa had insisted that Amber needed to go. Her mother had gotten her there okay. But after the show she wouldn't answer her phone.
Amber recalled pacing around to the back of the arena with anxiety after the show, catching a glimpse of some of the wrestlers as they made their way into their cars, intent on finding quiet and solace.
The thudding heartbeat in her chest intensified when she saw him, standing tall and sticking out over the amassed crowd that hungered eagerly for his attention. Desperately she longed for him to turn her way, for him to notice her and come running straight into her arms.
The persistent snowflakes were like chilled kisses on her cheeks, her face warmed with the thought of her father's embrace. Instead she watched as he slid into his own car, not so much as glancing in her direction.
Amber recalled the feeling of her heart plunging into her stomach, as her spur-of-the-moment plan to rush him was thwarted by a police officer that had managed to find her. She felt numb with shock as the man guided her into his vehicle, stating her mother was in a bad car wreck and she needed to come with him.
She remembered how numb and puffy her lips felt as she tried to speak to the doctor treating her mom about who could look after her. A part of her knew her mother wouldn't last, and the thought that she might be thrown to the wolves so to speak terrified Amber. So innocently she gave the woman the first name she could think of, wondering just how fateful it was that her constantly traveling father just so happened to be nearby at her greatest moment of need.
Meeting Mark in that waiting room wasn't really how she wanted the first time to be. But she needed her father. With a small smile Amber could recall that he smelled the same as he did oh so long ago. Like oak wood, burnt matches, and leather. An odd combination of scents to most people, but to her it was the smell of home. The cab of this truck smelled like it too.
With a loud sniffle she tried to pull her thoughts together. Her father was sitting here in the truck with her. As far as she could remember she had never really talked to him before now. Thirteen years made a damn well difference to her. Just what was she supposed to say to him?
"Dad?" she felt his olive eyes on her and instantly regretted her decision for conversation. Amber chewed her lip, trying to think of something to say. "...Are you gonna make me live here in Texas?"
Mark shrugged, trying to mask the swell of emotion in his heart at the endearment. They hadn't met in so long before now, and to her it seemed like nothing had ever come between them. "Don't have much of a choice as of right now. You have to finish school."
She sighed, gazing out the window again. The last thing she wanted was to stay here in Texas. Especially alone. Mark still had a work schedule, and she figured he wouldn't be able to worm his way into time off just to be with her. She figured that's what they were doing here today; he would dump her at his house and get back on the road. "Its really hot here…" She mumbled, shifting uncomfortably in her leather seat. The movement made an odd peeling sound due to the perspiration from her skin sticking to the upholstery.
Mark chuckled, acknowledging the fact that she would have difficulty adjusting to summers here after living up north where the snow was. "You'll get used to it."
"But…but...couldn't I just work online and get my GED or something? I-I-I don't want to go back to school…" He noted the desperation that latched onto her voice at the end of her comment and looked at her as he pulled into his long drive. He got all the way up to the garage, putting the vehicle in park before turning to her fully.
"You don't want to be here?" Mark tried his damnedest not to let the hurt make itself known in his own voice. He was looking forward to a few months here with his daughter. He wanted her here with him, to enjoy herself…to heal.
Amber shook her head desperately, making him frown. "Not by myself! Not if you're just going to dump me here…" Her words were faint. He had to strain just to catch them. At her words he raised an eyebrow.
"You thought I was just going to leave you here?" Mark studied her intently, making note of how her gaze snapped to him in surprise. A curious smile pulled at his lips.
She watched his olive eyes, searching them for an answer. He had visibly relaxed, leaving her to study every crease and wrinkle that formed on his face after all the years. His age was finally catching up to him, not that anyone would be able to tell watching him on television. But to Amber, she saw a normal, gruff, aged man. She saw her father. "…Don't you have to go back to work?"
Mark shook his head, watching with a smile as her eyes lit up. "This was more or less an undebatable family emergency that my boss had no choice but to accommodate. And I had some time off stacking up anyway..." His next words were mumbled, as he curled a finger under her chin and lifting her gaze to his. He studied the abundance of freckles that spread across the bridge of her nose like a horizon. One of the many traits the two of them shared. "Amber...I wasn't going to just leave you here. Not after your mom…" like the woman in question, his sentence died, lulling into a sigh as he pulled away from her.
He couldn't blame her for assuming such things from him. What could she expect from a man she barely knew? He might have been her father, but he knew fully well of some of the other wrestlers who were in the same position as him who didn't give a flying fuck about their kids. She had every right to lump him with them if he showed any faint hint that he was that type of man.
Mark frowned. He was not that type of man. Amber might not know that, but she would soon enough. He was devoted to family, to his child. He had only left well enough alone because he knew Melissa was taking damn good care of her, and he still sent child support every year. But now with her mother gone it was up to him to make sure his little girl would make it through this okay. "You and me, little one…" Mark drawled, moving his gaze to his large home. "Are gonna be spending the next couple of months getting to know each other."
At the mention of it her face brightened instantly, pleased with the thought of spending time with her father.
With a sigh the tall man rubbed the back of his neck. "I suppose if you don't want to stay here later on and wait around while I eventually go back to work, we could work on getting you into online classes or something, so we don't have to bother enrolling you just to pull you back out again."
"Really?" There was a slight excitement in her voice at which he couldn't help but chuckle.
He raised his hand to her, keeping her from continuing. "I would like at least for you go and audit the high school nearby though for a few days, just to think about it. You coming with me on the road would be a last resort, okay? That life ain't as luxurious as it sounds."
Amber mulled over his words. He was right, the road might not be any place for her. And she certainly didn't want to get in his way. "Fair enough. I'll go look, okay?"
Mark smiled. "Alright. Now come on, its getting too damn hot out here." He turned off the truck and slid out, moving to the front door of his home.
With a chuckle Amber did the same. Hopefully things would begin to look up for the both of them.
It wasn't long before Amber had gotten herself settled in his enormous house, as if a part of her heart had always been here. Surprisingly to the both of them as he gave her a tour she wasn't at all awestruck by how large and luxurious his home was, fitted with more than enough material pleasures for one man alone. Mark found himself pleased that his daughter wasn't easily swayed by material possessions. Neither was he, ironically; most of what decorated his house were for keeping his body in good shape and health, or merely for leisure when he managed to get time away from the road.
For Amber a house was just a house. What mattered was the people in it, she thought with a smile as she watched her father leaning against the stove, stirring marinara sauce. It was late enough in the evening he decided for dinner, and he thought he'd treat her to his most favored comfort food. Nothing better than a damn good dish of spaghetti and meatballs to quell the soul, he found.
Amber was more than pleased. It was in fact her favorite dish as well. Melissa made it often enough, always telling her that her father had the award for world's greatest spaghetti. For thirteen years she awaited to try it for herself. Now here she was, expectantly watching her newly found father making her dinner.
She rubbed her arms cautiously as she sought for conversation, curious as to how he would take her words. "It was my…first live show."
His gaze met hers, brow quirking in confusion.
"The…night before she…um..." Her words were a quiet mumble. "I...I had come to see Smackdown. You were amazing…"
He sounded like a parrot, repeating her words. "You came to Smackdown?" When she nodded his brow furrowed, trying to puzzle together what he had been asking himself for so long. "So you knew? About me?"
Again Amber nodded. "I've always known about you. From the get go Mom had told me everything."
He studied her carefully. "You don't hate me?" He found himself pleasantly surprised by the fact that she had known about him all along, but at the same time worried that she was resentful.
She shook her head, her copper hair swaying back and forth. "Mom made absolutely sure I understood not to resent you. That you did what you had to. In my own way I knew why you did what you did. So no, I never hated you." She graced him with a soft smile. "I did appreciate the birthday cards though. Nice to know you were still thinking about me."
"Mommy look!" Amber opened the card and showed it to her mother. "I gots another one! I thinks its from the same friend!"
Melissa studied the card quietly, a soft smile pulling at her lips. She recognized the handwriting instantly. "Honey do you know who this is from?"
Her child looked at her expectantly, amber eyes wide with innocence. "Who, Mommy?"
"This…this is from your daddy."
Mark felt his breath catch in his throat. So she knew those were him too, huh? "It was the least I could do." He mumbled. "I'm…sorry…by the way. For not being there."
Amber shrugged, smiling at him. "I tuned in to every Raw, Smackdown, and pay-per-view just to watch you, so it was like you were there in spirit. I was too proud of you to be angry anyway. So was mom."
A warmth flooded in his heart as he watched her. The weight that seemingly settled on his chest had lifted knowing that she held no negative emotions towards him whatsoever. "So you liked the show, huh?"
With a grin she nodded. "You can't imagine how weird it was to want to shout at the top of my lungs That's my dad! Well, until you got chopped upside the head by Khali. Nice sell by the way. Had me freaking out for a moment there."
The corners of his lips quirked up in amusement, more than thrilled at how well versed in wrestle-speak she was without him having to explain it to her. "Well I'd be lying if I said it didn't still hurt like a bitch. That meathead has some damn big hands."
She giggled happily. "I'll bet. Are you going to get your revenge?"
He nodded with a smile. "Most likely once my time off here wraps up. After he's had a bit of time to act like a cocky undefeated bastard." He chuckled at her. "Dailp himself is a pretty nice guy though."
Amber's heart swelled with love at how easily her father found it to talk to her, and at the same time she found it just as comfortable chatting with him. This was all she ever wanted in her life. She just wished she didn't have to lose her mother just to have it. Silently drowning in her thoughts she drummed her fingers on the marble counter top.
Mark pulled the sauce pan off the stove and frowned as he thought back to what Amber said about going to Smackdown. "Melissa drove you to Minneapolis in that snow? Was she fucking crazy?" He recalled how horrible the weather had become that night. How his friend and co-worker Glenn had told him he nearly died trying to get to the arena, and how difficult it was for him to even get back to his hotel afterwards. "She…She…" Realization dawned on him as he turned his gaze back to his daughter.
He studied the way she shrank away from him. How she curled into herself as her gaze glued to the countertop. A grim frown marred her soft face.
"Interesting, isn't it?…" she muttered sarcastically. "That it seems I could only have one parent or the other, but not both." Revealing to him the thoughts that had just crossed her mind. A thought that made her father's face contort into one of horror. A sob wracked her body, making Mark put down the pan at record speed and rush over to her, wrapping his daughter in his arms. Amber continued to sob, muttering ridiculous assumptions. "I-it's all m-my fault! I-I-I j-just wanted to meet my d-dad! Why did this have to happen?! Did I d-do something to deserve this!?" Her wails became screams of sadness and desperation as she sought answers from the one man who could validate her feelings.
Mark's eyes were pursed shut as he whispered reassurance into his daughter's hair. He kissed the top of her head, wishing he could soothe her pain. He wanted so badly to ease her sorrow. But how in the world could one man do that? "Amber, darlin, you did no such thing to deserve this fate. None of this was your fault, understand?"
She continued to sob, leaving his question unanswered as she internally hated herself for committing whatever crime felt it necessary to deal this fate to her mother. She wondered if she would ever be able to forgive herself for this atrocity. Never once blaming her father nor her mother even for what had happened, Amber carried all of the burden onto her own shoulders.
Mark rubbed his daughter's back until her sobs had dwindled down to soft whimpers. His mind drew thoughtfully to his ex-wife. In truth he loved her more than life itself. The only other person he cared about more was Amber. He had met Melissa in his first years of college, her being one of the few friends he made there. She always believed in him, in his talents and abilities. She was at every basketball game and wrestling match when he started indie circuit. She supported him fully when he finally dropped out of school. If it wasn't for her he was sure he wouldn't have tried his hand at wrestling. It was true, in their last few moments together they had scrapped a lot, but that was often his own instigation, due to excessive stress of his career.
Melissa always believed in him, always knew he that he would have the best answer. Even if it was one so brash as to willingly cut himself from his daughter's life. She always supported him and loved him endlessly, understood his mind better than anyone else's, which is why without question, without a fight, she allowed him to leave. She never bothered him for anything, not even money when she needed it. But the child support checks always went through, so he assumed she was making good use of them.
She was a wonderful woman, and it was a damn shame that she was no longer fated for this world.
Something along the lines of a hysterical laugh emitted from his daughter, but it was muffled into his broad chest. "You know…you're much better than what I imagined."
"Is that so?" Mark murmured. He could feel her smile into his chest.
"Mom always made a point to make sure I knew you always loved me. Like there was no doubt in her mind that you ever thought otherwise. There was always that nagging doubt though. That you didn't want me. At the hospital, when I told the doctor about you…I was so terrified that you wouldn't come." Silently she remembered the relief that washed over her that night when she heard the doctor say that he was on his way.
Mark pulled away only slightly to stare into her glistening amber-colored eyes as he lifted her gaze to his. "You're my kid. Of course I would come for you. I'll always come for you, baby girl." He watched as a new fresh bout of tears shone in her eyes, near ready to fall. "C'mon, dry those tears little one," He whispered. "Dinner's gonna get cold, and I've found that a plate of nice hot spaghetti will mend even the most broken souls." With reluctance he pulled her out of his embrace, moving to set the table for the two of them.
Quietly she smiled, watching every graceful move her father made, moving only once the table was fully dressed. Slowly she sank into her chair, Mark mimicking her movements albeit a little slower. She couldn't ignore the groan he emitted as well as the excessive popping and cracking that came from his body as he moved. The sight made her frown slightly. "You think you have much left in you?"
He lifted his gaze to hers with a smile as he dug into his food. "Of course. I'm still having fun doing what I do. So long as I can still walk upright I don't see why I can't keep going."
A troubled frown sprouted on her face as she measured him with her stare. "And what if you do end up immobile?"
"Baby girl if that ever happens, then you can put me down yourself." He spoke candidly, having mulled over the subject many a year. The big man froze, realizing what he had said and looked up in time to catch the stricken look on her face. "But believe me, that time will never come. Not for a damn long time."
Amber cocked her head to the side curiously. "…How can you be so sure?"
Mark swallowed a gulp of water from the glass he had poured. "I just know. Trust me baby girl. Nothing will ever happen to me."
"You promise?" Her voice was quiet and full of hope, to which he couldn't help but smile in return.
"I promise." The tone in his voice was definite, as if ending the subject there. He swiveled another heap of noodles onto his fork. "Now eat, before it gets cold."
Her eyes gazed down at the piping hot plate of food before her. She was surprised at her hesitance as she stabbed a meatball with her fork, giving it a apprehensive look before popping it into her mouth. Her eyes grew wide, as she remembered the familiar taste from long ago. A taste that brought back memories of happiness, of love, of home, of comfort. Amber hadn't realized until now that she in fact had eaten this before. With each chew of the savory morsel, delicious flavor exploded in her mouth, making her moan pleasantly.
She hadn't noticed Mark had stopped eating briefly and was watching her carefully, amusement etched on his face as he observed the adolescent behavior of his teenage daughter. She was still so young and child-like, though her tall figure betrayed the assumption. "I take it it's good?" a humorous tone was laced in his words.
"The best I ever had." She said, grinning at him. Satisfied, Mark resumed eating, well aware she was still watching him.
Amber knew fully well life was going to prove difficult from then on without her mom. How she could learn to live with her burdening emotions and doubts, the blame she settled upon herself every day? She wasn't quite sure, but knowing that such a caring, passionate man like the one before her would be with her every step of the way, she believed anything was possible. Love spilled from her heart and out her amber eyes as she stared at Mark Calaway. The Undertaker. The man who was her father. The man whose daughter she just so happened to be. And she couldn't be more proud to admit such a thing.
She knew, smiling at him with her amber eyes, that with her dad at her side, life would eventually be normal again.