He took her tiny hand between his thumb and forefinger and shook it twice. "Hello, Beth." He swallowed hard and sat down in the grass, anxiously smoothing his black tie. At first, Puck wasn't certain why he had worn a tie (the only one he owned) to meet his daughter for the first time. It wasn't until he was sitting across from her, this impossibly tiny person with Quinn's eyes, that he realized it. He didn't want Beth's first memory of her father to be as the Jewish delinquent with a Mohawk and ripped jeans. He was going to be better than that for her. He wanted to impress the 8-month-old baby that sat before him.
"My name is Pu-, uh, Noah and I," his voice trailed off momentarily, his gaze finding Ms. Corcoran. The raven-haired choir director was reading a book on a bench a few yards away, sneaking glances at him whenever she could. Puck was grateful that she had agreed to let him do this. He didn't want to ruin it by telling Beth that he was her father, not if Shelby didn't want him to. "I would like to be your friend." He smiled slowly and reached over to tighten her shoelace.
Beth sputtered and laughed, patting his hand.
Puck's smile widened. He hadn't expected her to warm up to him so quickly. A part of him, deep inside, thought that it was because Beth could sense their connection. She knew that he was her father without him having to tell her. "There was someone else that I wanted you to meet. Her name is Quinn. I really think you would like her." He had invited Quinn, pulled her aside after Glee practice and told her of his plan, but she had turned him down. She said it would be too hard. They had to move on. "You remind me of her."
Puck curled his long fingers around Beth's miniscule ones. That was easier said than done.
"You're very small," he mused, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "It makes me nervous." Puck played football and threw kids in dumpsters. Gentleness wasn't exactly his strong suit. Yet, being here with Beth came relatively easy. Maybe his Mom was right. When you meet your kid, it just becomes reflex.
Beth climbed onto Puck's knee and babbled a few nonsense syllables, the same smile plastered on her face. She bat his tie around, drool moving slowly down her chin.
"You look smart. Do you sing?" He asked; Beth gave him an answering sputter and a squeal. "I do. So does Quinn. Maybe I'll get to hear you sometime." It was a shot in the dark, a prayer that would most likely go unanswered. This visit was a one-time deal, something that Ms. Corcoran had only agreed to after a little prodding. The chances of him seeing Beth again, of her hearing her sing, were slim to none.
So Puck stopped talking. Instead, he studied his daughter to commit every detail of her to his memory. Her hazel eyes that were just like Quinn's, the smile that reminded him of the one he saw in the mirror every morning, her inexplicably delicate fingers, and the smell of lavender in her hair. He sighed. "I think I'm going to miss you a lot more than I planned."
"Mr. Puckerman?" Shelby Corcoran was standing over them, leather purse slung over one shoulder. "It's time for Beth and I to leave." She looked anxious, like she thought he might take the baby and run, but she was wearing a smile nonetheless.
Puck nodded and stood up, handing Beth to her. "Thank you, Ms. Corcoran. I really… appreciate this." He tried a smile but couldn't quite muster the energy for it.
Ms. Corcoran murmured something about having a nice day and the weather before she turned and strode purposefully toward her car, leaving Puck all alone in the middle of the only park in Lima, Ohio. He looked around plaintively, brushing leaves off of his pants. He was all too aware of the knot in his stomach and the pain in his throat.
No one told him that it would be like this.