Don't Call Me Daddy

Gordo had just started living a normal life again. He had gone from Hawaii back to California, and then moved out to New York to be a CEO in a production company. At the moment, he was reading over the script for a new TV show called Next Door, which was all about a beautiful girl that lived next door to a not-so-beautiful man. As if that hadn't been overplayed in the last six decades. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

Taking a moment to read the last line of the script, he threw it back on the table and rolled his eyes. There was no way he was going to let this drivel onto his set. None at all. It would not only degrade his ratings, but himself to be forced to watch it. And then, of course, came the factor that no one would care to see it. If he couldn't bring himself to watch it, who would?

He stood to turn the light out in the kitchen of his apartment and move to the bedroom. Halfway there he heard someone knocking on the door. Gordo glanced at his watch and raised a brow. Who would be knocking at three in the morning? The knocking became more urgent and he found it hard to ignore the suspect on the other side.

Expecting it to be some idiot teenager, he blinked several times when he opened the door and saw the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen. Not beautiful in a sexual way, of course, but a down-home, earthy, type beautiful. Her hair was long, brunette, and tapered. Her eyes, now full of tears from his urgent answer, were bright blue, with just a hint of green around each pupil. He stopped short of yelling at her, and took in the fact that this girl was only 5, maybe 6, and that was ball-parking it.

"Can I help you?" He inquired bitterly. The girl didn't speak and he felt like beating his head against the wall. "Listen, honey, I don't have all night. I have to go to work in like, three hours."

An older woman came up beside the girl, having heard the ruckus. "Oh, Abs, I see he is home."

"Mrs. Danby, is there a reason you sent this child over to my apartment?" He didn't mean to come off as angry, but he was stressed and didn't have much time to deal with anything else.

"Well, she came to my apartment asking for you. When I told her I didn't know if you were home, I sent her over here. It seems your phone is disconnected again." For good reason, he thought. "Besides, I figured it would be more appropriate for you to deal with it, seeing as she's your daughter."

That caught his attention. How could this child possibly be his daughter? "You felt that it was totally okay to send a five year old child to me alone, knowing I may not be home? Where would she go if I wasn't?"

"Back to my apartment until you got home." The woman answered with a smile. "Her name is Abigail. She seems to prefer Abs or Abby."

"Well, memorize that, because she's not my daughter." He went to close the door, but the small child stopped him, her blue eyes large and watery. "What do you want from me? Is it money? I can give you money. I'm not your father, okay?"

"My mom sent me," The child replied just above a tiny whisper.

Gordo knelt down and stared at the little girl, looking for any sign of who her mother might be. "Your mom was some kind of stupid sending their daughter alone to find me."

"She doesn't know," The girl answered sadly. "She thinks I'm with the babysitter."

Gordo's eyes went wide. "Great! Now I'm a kidnapper!"

Abby shook her head sadly. "No! I promise I'll call my mommy right away and let her know where I am! Please don't make me go home right now."

Gordo shook his head again, curls bouncing with each move. "Listen, Abby, was it? I don't know who you are, and I'm sure as hell not going to get arrested for kidnapping."

Abby dug into her pocket for a few moments, then produced a small card like object. The child handed it to Gordo and waited. In the image was a blonde, young and beautiful, sitting with him on a chair, their hands intertwined. "You looked so happy then. I thought maybe you could make my mommy happy again. She's always so sad."

He stared at the image for a long time, pieces falling into place. How could he have forgotten about her already? Seven years ago, she was his life, and now she was nothing but a cold and distant memory. He didn't want to believe he was the one that pushed her away. Quietly staring at the child, he handed the image back to her. "I can't help you."

"Yes, you can!" the child screamed, turning to see if the elder woman was still there. The elder had gone home, obviously assuming the family had worked it out. Abby bit her lip and wiped away the threatening tears. "My mommy always told me you were nice, and you loved her. She said you would have done anything for her."

"Seven years ago, sure, I would have." He turned to walk away. "But that changed when she left me for Ethan Craft."

"Wait! I'm your daughter! I can prove it!" Abs shouted.

"You've never even met me, how can you prove it?" He asked with a raised brow, foot in the door so he couldn't close it even if he wanted to. He was enraptured by this child. She seemed to want him as a father, not that he hadn't heard it before.

"My mommy, she was your best friend in high school." Abby answered. "You loved her so much that you asked her to marry you. When she said yes, you spent the whole night together. That's where I came in. She left you for Ethan though, just before I was born. You didn't know about me. She tried to tell you, but you kept saying I was Ethan's daughter. Do I look like Ethan?" The five year old asked bitterly.

Gordo had to admit she didn't much look like Ethan or Lizzie. She looked more like him. "Where is your mother now? How did you get here?"

Abby looked down at her shoes. "I bought a plane ticket with my mommy's card. She doesn't know." Abby smiled sadly. "I don't think she'll ever notice."

Gordo leaned in the doorjamb as if it was supporting him. "And why won't she ever know?"

The girl frowned, and then began to cry. "Because she's on drugs. She doesn't remember me. She kept asking me who I was, and when I'd tell her, she'd yell at me to get out because I reminded her of you."

For the first time that night, Gordo began to feel sympathy for the small child standing in front of him. He wondered if Lizzie would notice if her daughter was gone. If she was that far gone, clearly she wouldn't. He pushed all of his doubts aside and decided to help her, even if it was just for tonight. "They were going to put you into family services, weren't they?"

Abby nodded and walked past the doorway when he left it open and walked away. The girl toyed with the bunny in her hands, the same bunny he'd had as a child. How had she gotten it? She looked up at him with big bright blue eyes so much like his own. "I know this might be a little forward…but do you have anything to eat?"

He noticed absently that she side-stepped the question about family services and raised a brow. The way she spoke was very eloquent for a child her age, she definitely had his mannerisms. He pulled some cereal from the cupboard and handed her the box. "This is all I have until I go shopping tomorrow." He smiled absently. "Would you like some cocoa?"

"My mommy used to make me cocoa!" The girl's eyes lit up for the first time in several hours. "Can I have a candy cane in it? I like mint cocoa."

Gordo stared at her for a long time. That was something his mother used to do, throw a little mint into the chocolate for flavor. He hadn't heard of anyone else doing that in years. Nodding he laughed quietly. "Abby, what happened to your mother? Do you know?"

The little girl nodded and followed him into the kitchen. "Mommy used to love me a lot. I was her lifeline, and her link to you. But when you left her, she felt like she had nothing left anymore. Mommy was going to put me up for adoption, but then she realized she could get money out of you. She was going to keep me and use you to feed her addiction." Abby struggled to climb onto the tall stool by the counter. He gently helped her up and sat her on the chair. Abby continued talking. "Mommy wasn't going to take care of me. She was going to use any money so got from you for me, in order to buy her drugs. She's overdosed twice now…and I've been staying with Uncle Matt."

Gordo already knew Lizzie was mentally ill now. His mother had treated her several times while she was in rehab. He poured some milk into a pot and boiled it on low heat, listening to Abby talk. "How did you know where to find me?"

"I found a letter you had sent to mommy that she wanted to burn. It had your address on it. I asked Uncle Matt to help me find the address as a project for school." She looked down at the table, waiting quietly to get reprimanded. "Mommy took me back last week. She said she was clean and could take care of me…she said she would change because I meant so much to her." Abby began to cry again, her words slurred from tears. "She won't change for me. I'm not good enough for her. She doesn't want me."

Gordo suddenly felt a wave of compassion hit him like a rock. This child had one hell of a life, and she needed support, even if it was from a stranger. He rubbed his temples and set a mug down. "Listen, Abigail, I loved your mother beyond any doubt, and I still do. But I can't be with her right now. I know you want me to fix her, but I can't. Only she can do that. I would just be in the way. For now, I'll take care of you until I can get a hold of family services."

"NO!" Abby screamed. "I don't want to go to foster care! I'll be away from mommy and Uncle Matt! I don't want to go!"

"Abby, listen," Gordo quietly poured the cocoa powder into the milk and mixed it, dropping some marshmallows and mint into it. "I can't take care of you. You're not my daughter. I have no children."

"I am! I am your daughter!" Abby screamed. "I know I am!"

"Listen, Abby. You're not. If you were, I would have known years ago."

"Please let me stay. I don't want to go back to mommy. She only uses me to make people feel sorry for her so they give her money." Abby looked away, calming herself slightly as she clutched the bunny close. "I don't want to be her toy anymore. I want to be where I'm loved again."

Gordo wasn't so sure she would get that with him. Not if he wasn't sure entirely who she was. He stared at her for a long time, blue eyes scrutinizing every detail of the small child. He shook his head and slid the mug of cocoa to her. "I'm calling child services tomorrow. I'm sorry, Abby, but you're not my child." And for the first time that night, Gordo believed his lie.

Eight in the morning rolled around quickly. Gordo began to wonder if this deal with that Abby girl was a dream, at least until he went into his bedroom to get clothes and saw her still sleeping in his bed. That's right; he'd given Abby the bed so he slept on the couch. Of course, how could he have forgotten? He brushed out his tangled hair and turned, leaning his back against the dresser, to stare at the little girl sleeping in his bed.

She reminded him so much of Lizzie. What if she was Lizzie's daughter? She was six years old, so she was either his or Ethan's. He shook his head and looked away, turning to dig through the dresser. Lizzie's words kept repeating in his mind. It's not Ethan's baby, I promise! I know it's yours! It has to be yours! His mind kept replaying the moment as he dug through the clothes idly.

Abby stirred in her bed, rolling onto her side and whimpering. He could only imagine which of the horrific moments she was reliving. What if she really was his? How could he live with himself for leaving her in a terrible situation for six years? He stared down at the dresser and pulled out a shirt, clutching it with all his might. I'll take care of her he thought even if she's not mine, she deserves a loving home. But for the life of him, he couldn't figure out when Abby had been born. He could remember Lizzie yelling the child was his – but he couldn't remember when the argument took place…or when they had been together romantically.

He slipped into the shirt and went into the kitchen to pick up the house phone. Dialing the number for family services that he knew so well from dealing with his parent's patients, he waited on the line for someone to pick up. A male voice came over the line, asking for a name. "David Gordon," he answered, then paused and waited. "I'm calling about a child named Abigail Christine McGuire; she came to my house after running away from home last night claiming to be my daughter."

"How do you want us to help you?" The man asked.

Gordo paused. "Actually…I don't think you can. I'm calling to inform you that she's here, so if her mother comes looking for her, I didn't kidnap her. The child came here of her own free will." Gordo wasn't entirely sure how this worked; he just knew the numbers and how to deal with them. Not what to say.

The man coughed slightly and dialed another number. "Maybe you should call her mother and tell her that."

Gordo nodded and sighed. "Thanks, I will."

He hung up with them and dialed another number, waiting for his mother to pick up. Roberta answered the phone and waited, her words coming at him fast and hard. "Is Abigail okay?"

He stopped, breathing harsh. "You knew?"

"David, how could I not have known? She was born on your birthday." Roberta blinked and waited for him to catch his breath again. "David, you didn't know she was your daughter, did you?"

"She's not my daughter, mom. I don't know where she came from, but she's not mine."

"Her birth certificate says otherwise, David. And by law you have to take responsibility if that's what it says." Roberta pressured, trying to make him realize the truth.

"I never signed a birth certificate! I don't know where this all came up from, but I know damn well that Abigail isn't my daughter! If she was, why didn't she just go to you?" Gordo demanded, his palm flat on the wall, bracing him against it. "I don't see why she did this, mother. Why is Lizzie trying to make me suffer? Because her life is so terrible she has to make mine terrible?"

"Abigail is yours, David. I've counseled with her, I can guarantee you one hundred percent that she's yours."

"Stop trying to make me believe she's mine! That can be solved later! Right now my problem is that I'm a kidnapper because her mother doesn't know she's here!" Gordo shouted, his voice rising only slightly.

"David, her mother is in prison. They were going to send her to child services and put her in foster care. I could not, in good conscience, let my granddaughter go to foster care." She lowered her voice. "I was the one who paid for her ticket to come find you."

"Take her back, I don't want her."

"David Zephyr Gordon! She's a child, could you, in all honesty, turn her away? Could you? You used to be so gracious and kind, and now you're just bitter and jealous. Its three months from Christmas, give her a chance to prove you wrong." Roberta replied.

"One word, mother. Kidnapping."

"Your name is on her certificate; I set it up with child services so she would go to you in the event of an emergency. Don't mess this up, David. She needs you now…just like you need her." Roberta sighed deeply. "I love you, David. Take good care of her for Lizzie."

"Mom, wait I—"

There was nothing but a dial tone on the other end.

Five hours ago he was single and free, now there was a child in his life that he didn't know about. And the worst part was that he couldn't deny the coincidences much longer. Abby came into the room rubbing her eyes, holding her bunny by the ear. Gordo took a deep breath and looked at the little girl. How could he turn her away in good conscience? "Abby, are you hungry? I'll make you waffles."

The little girl's eyes lit up and she smiled brightly. "I love waffles! Can you put strawberries on them?"

Gordo nodded. "That's how I like my waffles, too." He sighed in defeat. "I don't know who you are, Abigail, but at the request of a very knowing and wonderful woman, I'll look after you. But as soon as your mother is better, you're going home. I mean it."

"Okay. So I can stay here?" The child inquired, climbing onto the stool again. She kicked her feet happily and watched the man move around the kitchen carelessly. "Pleassssseee?"

"For now. But like I said, when your mother is better, you're going home. Got it?"

Abby nodded eagerly. "Thank you for changing your mind."

"You're lucky someone out there cares about you more than I do." Gordo answered. "I don't mean that I'm going to disown you, because if you are my daughter, I'm going to take care of you…but right now wasn't very good timing. And I must admit, your argument is a little invalid."

"Do you have any cinnamon?" The little girl inquired softly.

"Yes, why?" Gordo asked, taking a bottle from the cabinet and handing it to her. Abby smiled and poured some into her hand. He watched curiously. "What are you doing?"

"Look!" She pointed to her hand, and as he leaned closer, not seeing what she was looking at, she blew it in his face. Gordo started to sneeze and frowned. "I knew you were allergic! So am I!"

"Abigail!" He sputtered and sneezed again. "Don't do that again!"

The child peeked her head over the counter and watched him with a sly smile. "Mommy told me that's why you couldn't cook anything with cinnamon in it, she had to do it. So why do you keep it around?"

"Every so often I make some cookies for your mother…is that so bad?" He asked, flipping the waffle onto a plate. "I'd like to think of it as nostalgia."

"That's a sad word. I don't like that word."

"That word happens to mean fond thoughts of or wanting to return." Gordo answered. He absently noticed Abby knock over something onto the script and stain it. Though he wanted to shout at her, common sense got the better of him. He smiled at her and laughed. She cowered into the stool, staring at him curiously. "I'm not mad at you."

"You're not?" She peeked up slightly and looked up at him, those same blue eyes as his. "Why not?"

"Because that script was terrible and I didn't have the heart to tell the man who wrote it that I would never read it again." He sliced up some strawberries and dumped them on top of the waffles. "Now, enjoy your breakfast. We've got a long day ahead of us."

"What do you mean?" Abby inquired brightly.

"You're coming to work with me."

"Nuh uh!" Abby shouted excitedly. "Really?"

He nodded and took a bite of his waffle. "Yeah. There's nowhere else to go. I can't find you a babysitter on such short notice, so you're gonna have to come with me." He picked a strawberry off of her plate and ate it. "Just don't get me in trouble at my own company."

"Oh! I won't!" She smiled brightly. "I'll be a movie director for one whole day!"

"Yeah, about that…"

I'm digging' this idea right now. XD Now if I could finish it, it would be a miracle. Expect an update to SOD in the next few days. Probably tonight or tomorrow. I won't be home until Midnight tonight, and I go in for work at 7am the next day, so I can't promise anything when I get home.

It's slightly OOC because of the fact that I have never seen someone take kindly to a random child saying they were yours. So, it's going to get better as it goes, just a slow process.

Oh, and as always, read and review 3