Chapter 8
Dani had expected a lot of things during a Jessica Whitly outing.
Being taken somewhere fancy to find a dress, being paraded around like a fashion doll while being made to try on dress after dress. She even expected a barrage of questions about her relationship with Malcolm...
Not that there was much to say about it.
Being taken to one of the fanciest restaurants on the Upper East Side was expected, but being treated to amiable conversation like she was an old family friend definitely wasn't on the list. It wasn't unnerving for Dani by any means, but it did give her pause.
Maybe that's where Bright gets it from.
Isabella whined from her highchair, reaching out for Dani like she wanted out, happy to wrap her chubby little arms around the detective's neck the second she was free. Dani could feel the little girl's tiny hands petting and playing with her curls with a little coo.
Jessica watched the cozy scene in front of her with an indulgent smile.
"Isabella seems to adore you."
"I think she's just used to me…" The smile on Dani's face was small and soft as Isabella patted her cheek, making a curious noise as the detective's necklace caught her eye. "It hasn't been easy for her so she just latches onto me and Bright."
"The poor dear..." Jessica's smile faded as she stared at the baby, who was too young to know what was going on around her, "I can't imagine anyone losing a mother like that."
"It's terrible, but it happens, unfortunately." Dani ran a soothing hand down Isabella's back as the little girl rested her head on her shoulder, "The best we can do is try to help the victims that are left behind."
Jessica looked fondly at the baby. Despite there being no relation between them, it still surprised her how much Isabella looked like her son. The same pert nose and pointed chin, the dimples in her cheeks and the way her eyes scrunched up into little crescents when she smiled.
And the eyes, not quite blue or green, wide as the moon and bright as the stars.
Honestly, who could blame her for mistaking Isabella for Malcolm's daughter the first time she saw her?
"Still, Malcolm seems quite taken with this little one."
"He's actually really good with her," Dani softened as she recalled Malcolm and Isabella in the living room in the early morning, "At least he doesn't mind staying up when she can't sleep."
Dani could hear a lifetime of the older woman dealing with a stubborn, insomniac son upon Jessica chuckling as she took an elegant sip of her Sauvingon Blanc.
"I will admit," the tone of her voice wasn't one of defeat, Jessica Whitly was much too tenacious for the likes of it. Perhaps it was one of coming to an understanding.
"That may be a microscopic upside to him being up all hours of the night."
The solemn mood was interrupted by a squeal from Isabella, patting at Dani's cheeks while gurgling happily. The sight was enough to make Jessica laugh.
"Babies do what they want when they want and no one can tell them otherwise. After raising two babies, I've come to realize that hasn't changed."
"Well, it's a good thing babies are kinda cute."
Dani's face lit up with amusement as she bounced Isabella on her knee, the baby's big blue eyes sparkling with glee. The little girl let out a sweet, hiccupy giggle, showing off a single tooth that was starting to peek out.
"Not all babies," Jessica shook her head pointedly, a wry smile twisting her lips, "Malcolm was certainly one of those children who had to grow into their appearance."
Her smile became fond at the quizzical tilt of Dani's head, leaning in with a conspiratory whisper as she saw the detective's face light up with curiosity.
"Oh, he was like one of those cabbage patch dolls, bald and round. He didn't even have hair until he was a year old."
"Okay, that might be an acquired taste," Dani relented with a laugh as she settled Isabella in her lap. "Was he really bald for that long?"
"Believe me, dear, I have the pictures to prove it. So," Jessica changed the subject, looking through the menu, "What are you thinking of getting? And before you say anything, it's on all me."
"Oh, no, I can't ask you to do that-"
"You weren't asking, I am offering," the older woman said primly, her tone brokering no room for argument. Dani briefly wondered if it was a Milton trait or something that came with all high society madams.
"Besides," a mischievous twinkle lit up frost blue eyes, "We need the energy to go shopping to find you the perfect dress."
Dani shook her head as she smiled in defeat, her dimples showing. Jessica Whitly might have been a tad controlling and like everything just so, but she clearly did it out of a desire to make people happy.
Maybe mother and son weren't so different after all.
(~**~) (~**~) (~**~) (~**~)
The table was soon full of platefuls of food as the head waiter informed them that Isabella's food would be ready in a little while, Jessica waving the waiters off regally.
Dani couldn't help but grin when Isabella stretched out her chubby arms to try and grab at the edamame beans on her plate. The little girl was fascinated by the bright green colour, prompting the detective to give her one to see what she would do with it.
Isabella eyed it for a moment, her little face scrunched with curiosity before decisively smashing it into her mouth, cooing happily as she enjoyed the taste. Dani laughed as Isabella reached out to try and grab another. She was reminded of her niece and nephew at that age, wanting to put anything they could get their hands on in their mouths. The baby was already a little foodie in the making.
"Well, the little lady certainly seems to love food," Jessica chuckled softly, a little wistful as she watched Dani hand Isabella another bean, "Reminds me a bit of Malcolm when he was a child."
Dani raised her brows in surprise, not expecting that little tidbit about her partner. She assumed that Bright had been an epicurean since he was little, turning away at the sight of anything edible on his plate.
"Bright actually ate something other than candy?"
"Believe it or not, yes." Jessica's smile widened, "Malcolm's had stomach problems since he was a baby and he never had a taste for rich foods, but he did enjoy simple foods when he was a little boy. Snow peas, soba noodles, and the like."
"I thought he'd be more of a picky eater." Dani absently bounced Isabella on her knee. "Though now that I think about it, he always orders cold soba whenever Gil insists on Japanese food."
Jessica said nothing in the moment, content with watching Dani and Isabella together with a faint, fond smile, her eyes crinkling at the corners the same way her sons' did.
"You know..."
Her voice was soft, a far cry from her usual proud, tenacious tone. It was almost stilted, awkward, her mouth twisting as she struggled not to barrel forward like she often did.
"I never did thank you for what you did for Ainsley."
Dani bit her lip, ready to shake her head. It wasn't that she regretted helping Ainsley, but it was jarring, seeing the older woman look at her like that with those eyes, a carbon copy of Bright's made her discomfited. The sheer gratitude brimming from them was blinding.
"There's no need to be modest, dear," Jessica insisted, "Malcolm told me that if it wasn't for you and your team, Ainsley wouldn't have gotten off as lightly as she did."
There was a tiny smile on Dani's face. For all that Jessica had clashed with Gil and the team in the past, there were little moments where Dani would catch glimpses of the frost thawing. Just like now.
"Well, it wasn't just me. You might also want to thank JT and Edrisa too."
Jessica's smile was genuine, the lines of her face smoothing out.
"I owe you all so much."
"You really don't," Dani insisted as she placed Isabella back on her lap, letting the little girl eat another edamame bean.
She wasn't used to this, to Jessica being so grateful, humble of all things. It didn't suit the Milton matriarch, but Dani supposed that even the older woman had moments where she was vulnerable.
"It's not like anything we said in our reports wasn't true," she continued with a slight shrug. "We were just able to give Ainsley a chance to explain herself before any sort of vultures could swoop in. Media or otherwise."
But Jessica shook her head in disagreement, her dangling pearl earrings swinging with her. No, she thought as she looked at the young woman sitting across from her, Dani simply had a tendency to deflect whenever attention was turned on her.
"You don't give yourself the credit, dear," Jessica's pointed look was gentled by the warmth of her voice, "You've been a friend to the family this whole time, especially that son of mine. I don't need to tell you that's something he's been without for a while."
Dani awkwardly cleared her throat, the first thought that popped into her head flying out before she could stop it.
"I didn't know he wore glasses."
Jessica's smile was fond, recalling how Malcolm ended up needing them at fourteen after one too many late nights.
"Side effect from all those books he was reading in the dark, I'm afraid." She waved her hand dismissively, half exasperated and half fond. "I always thought it was a crime to hide those big blue eyes away from the world so I had him get contacts as well. Just to remind him of his options, of course."
"Poor Bright," Dani bit back her laughter at the thought of an awkward teenage Bright, glasses swallowing half his face, "I'm sure it couldn't have been that bad."
"Darling, it was the early 2000s. For some reason, every fashion trend had some sort of strangeness to it."
"I do remember full denim outfits walking on the runway." Dani added in an afterthought, the corner of her mouth tilting up in amusement.
"Please don't remind me." Jessica shuddered in horor, taking a bite of her sashimi as if to cleanse a bad taste from her mouth, "But enough about Malcolm, why don't you tell more about yourself."
The detective went stiff, her brows knitting together.
"There's not much to tell, Mrs. Whitly."
Jessica's smile didn't fade, but she did raise an eyebrow, a move that reminded her strongly of Jackie whenever she would insist that Dani stay the night instead of heading home after dinner. Funny, maybe the women in Gil's life weren't so different after all.
"We've been over this before, dear. I thought I asked you to call me Jessica."
"Right, sorry."
Dani had a feeling that this was one thing she had to get used to, remembering how stubborn and insistent mother and son could get. For all that they disagreed with each other, they seemed to develop a similar fondness for her that she couldn't quite understand yet.
"No need to apologize," Jessica waved her hand, "If you're done calling me Mrs. Whitly, I might as well start calling you Dani. If that's alright with you, that is."
"Of course Mrs-Jessica," she let out a chuckle at the pleased look on the older woman's face, "That'll take some getting used to."
Jessica was thrilled, but before she could respond, the waiter came back with Isabella's food. Mashed teriyaki chicken, edamame and soft plain rice, all cut into bite sized pieces for the little girl, who seemed overjoyed at the sight of the food in front of her.
Dani smiled as she started eagerly digging into her own food, not realizing just how hungry she had been after just a bagel and a cup of Earl Grey for breakfast. And seeing Jessica's own appetite made her forget to feel awkward in this fancy, high end place. She supposed that the rules of fine dining went out the window in the face of good food.
(~**~) (~**~) (~**~) (~**~)
Malcolm barely said a word to Gil as he grabbed whatever case files caught his eye. No matter how much he mulled over it, something about this case just wasn't making sense. There was something Malcolm Bright was missing.
But maybe it was something Martin Whitly could see.
To say that Malcolm wasn't all too thrilled to be seeing his father was an understatement. The last time he had seen Dr. Whitly was right before Ainsley had entered Phoenix Rehab. Since then he'd tried his best to stay from that man who seemed to turn everything disastrous, whose trail of destruction didn't end even after he was locked up.
As much as Malcolm wanted to hate the man for ruining his life, ruining his family's lives... it hadn't been all Martin. He had been just as responsible for the pain, the hatred and self-sabotage he himself had inflicted on his own life. He could've very well have placed all the blame on The Surgeon for his inability to trust his friends-to trust Dani, but in the end?
That choice had been his and his alone.
And it only ended up with him being even more hurt and lost than before.
Making the conscious effort to actually try to be a better version of himself, rather than simply being better than Martin Whitly wasn't a tough choice to make by a longshot. But it was easier said than done and it was no longer enough to be better than The Surgeon. He had to choose to work towards being a better Malcolm Bright.
As Malcolm entered Claremont and got closer and closer to his cell, the tremor in his hand started acting up, an ironic Pavlovian response to his surroundings. He hadn't actually seen Martin for a few months, he never had reason to after… after the incident.
For the first time in a long time, there wasn't even the tiniest part of him that wanted to see Martin. No part of him that wanted to seek out his father's approval. All he wanted was to get in, get out with the information he wanted, without so much as a 'how do you do'.
Wishful thinking on his part maybe, but he wanted to cling to some semblance of hope to get him through this.
The moment the door opened for Malcolm, he was met with a gleeful; "Malcolm my boy!"
The Surgeon gave his son one of those overly-cheerful smiles as if he was simply an old man in a nursing home and his child managed to find time out of his day to visit. Like it was something mundane and normal.
Malcolm was curt, barely acknowledging the man in front of him, unwilling to make eye contact.
"Oh come now. Why the formalities?"
Malcolm wasn't even going to begin going into that, his jaw tightening at the audacity of The Surgeon sounding hurt of all things.
"There's been a series of murders and something isn't adding up. I thought you'd like to have some input." Malcolm raised his eyebrows, finally meeting the other man's gaze as if to challenge him. "Unless of course, you have something better to do."
Martin made an intrigued noise in the back of his throat as Malcolm set a case file in front of him.
"This isn't any sort of copycat of yours, but the killer's mimicking another just to throw us off."
"Oh my..."
Malcolm could see the devilish glint of glee that lit up Martin's entire self at the sight of the crime scene photos, almost as if the pictures were giving him some kind of high. He couldn't help the way his nose wrinkled at the thought.
"That is a lot of craftsmanship."
Malcolm wished he could unhear that.
"While again, this isn't a copycat of yours, there is something we need insight on." He finally managed to recollect himself, pointing to the scars carved into Arianna and the first two victims, "The first two victims have star shaped scars-"
"Ooh, that's kind of fun to say, isn't it? Star scars."
Malcolm barely batted an eye as he ignored his father's offhand comment.
"But that still doesn't explain why Arianna's scars are heart shaped."
"Well that's obvious, it's not the same killer. Well, physical killer," Martin added thoughtfully, his eyes glazed over and far away. "The scars were probably supposed to send some sort of message to either the victim's family or even the police, but they're basically two different signatures."
"So this wasn't done out of some twisted sense of pleasure."
"I speak from experience." Martin waited, expecting some sort of reaction before a wheezing chuckle escaped, "Come on son, it was just a little joke."
Malcolm stopped to pull out another file, but something else fell out; a soft blue polka-dotted baby's bib.
He froze for a brief second, cursing under his breath.
It must have happened when he was getting Isabella's diaper bag ready. He probably shouldn't have been reading case files at the same time.
"Well, well, well, what have we here?" The Surgeon picked up the bib and held it up, his eyes almost popping out of his skull with fascination, "Now what is a baby's bib doing in your briefcase, my boy?"
The excited grin overtaking his face was sickening.
"Have you been keeping something from me?"
There was a lump in his throat, fraught with fear.
"I don't know how that got there."
"Oh, now don't go lying to your dear old dad." Martin's smile was almost knifelike, looking far too interested now that there was fresh blood in the water, "Your lying face is exactly the same as the time I caught you sneaking bonbons to your room when you were four. Any other kid would've gone for the cookies, but you were always more of a bonbon man."
"There's nothing to tell." There was a chilliness in Malcolm's gaze, one that reminded Martin of his ex-wife whenever she was particularly snappish. "You're grasping at straws."
"You should've told me I was a grandfather now, I would've sent you and your lucky lady friend a gift." Martin racked his brain for a moment, almost manic in his movement. "Like a coffee maker or espresso machine, something for you being new parents. Say, when will the little tyke get to meet their grandfather?"
"Dr Whitly-"
"Though grandfather is far too formal and grandpa makes me feel old..." Martin shook his head before his face lit up with glee, "Oh, what about Pop-Pop? That sounds fun and hip. Do people still say 'hip' or am I just really out of the loop these days?"
Martin chuckled, far too giddy with this current revelation, seemingly unaware of how his son's jaw was tightening by the second.
"It's about time you or your sister had a baby, though I had my money on you, my boy. Ainsley's far too career-driven to want to start a family of her own any time soon-"
"Dr Whitly, the case."
"Oh come now, don't be like that." Martin cajoled, a grin still plastered on his face, "At least tell me my grandchild's name. Tell me if they're a boy or girl."
Malcolm didn't even bother with a response, fiercely glaring at his father to drop it already.
"Oh alright, I'll play your guessing game for a bit. Emma seems too obvious, your mother would've named Ainsley that given her love for Jane Austen."
Malcolm was not going to give him what he wanted, especially anything pertaining to Isabella, but Martin seemed too delighted to care about it.
"You wouldn't name her something like Aphrodite, would you? Considering that she belongs to a wealthy family, you might as well be asking her to be too confident. Unless of course, it's a boy then maybe you gave him a very strong name like... Michael. Michael Whitly has a nice ring to it."
Malcolm rolled his eyes to high heaven, wondering why he even bothered trying to get Martin Whitly back on track.
"And you still haven't told me who the lucky lady is." Martin was having way too much fun with this as he let out a mock gasp. "Don't tell me… you finally asked Dani out? My, you do work fast."
(~**~) (~**~) (~**~) (~**~)
The visit took a turn that Malcolm hadn't prepared for.
His chest felt like it was in a vise as he left, his hand shaking and his vision swimming. He just needed to give Gil the information his father gave him and he would be fine. It would be fine, he thought as his breathing grew ragged. Everything would be fine-
He almost jumped out of his skin when his phone rang.
His frantic heartbeat finally began slowing down when he saw who was calling. He resolutely refused to think how there had been a common denominator the last couple of times a phone call had brought him back from the edge of a panic attack.
But there was a reason why three was a pattern.
"Dani," he breathed, the colour finally returning to his face, "Everything okay?"
"Are you okay?"
Her voice was low, an undercurrent of worry cutting through the line.
"I'm fine. Really," he insisted before clearing his throat, the last of the dread melting away. "What's up?"
"You mean besides shopping with your mother right now?"
Dani being alone with his mother? Shopping? Somehow, that was the thing that shocked Malcolm the most.
"Wait, really? Mother didn't-?"
"Calm down, Bright, we're actually having a nice time. Though it did take her an hour and half to find a dress she liked."
Malcolm ran a hand down his face, a huff of laughter escaping him. When he invited Dani to go with him to the gala, he forgot that he would be putting her in the path of Hurricane Jessica.
"I am so sorry."
"Don't be..." Her voice was soft and reassuring, but he could still hear a hint of amusement, "Just thought you should know that Isabella's with us."
A smile unconsciously spread across his face at the mention of the little girl.
"She doing okay?"
"I think she's having fun."
Dani peeked out from behind the changing room curtain, watching Jessica having the time of her life putting Isabella in extravagant baby dresses, the little girl giggling every time Jessica gave her a little tickle.
"Though you might wanna make more space in your closet, your mother's already bought half the store for her."
He groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. He should've expected it in hindsight. His mother had a tendency to lavish affection on others by spending money on them.
"Listen…" There was a split second of hesitation in Dani's voice and he could practically hear the way she bit her lip before her next words."I know that your mom's insistent on paying for my dress, but I can't ask someone to make another extravagant purchase for me again."
Her cheeks heated up, remembering how Malcolm hadn't even blinked at the sky high cost when he bought her that glittering red dress for the Taylor wedding. Granted they had been on a case, but it was still sweet of him to do so.
"We can set up something so I can pay you back-"
"Absolutely not." His tone was kind, but there was a steely undertone that often came up when he was firmly rooted in something, "You don't owe Mother and I anything."
"Bright-"
"No, I insist. You're only coming because I asked you, it's the least I can do."
"Bright, buying me a..." Dani was incredulous, checking the price tag on the dress she was trying on, "four hundred dollar dress is too much."
"Compared to everything you do for me, it's not." There was a silence between them for a moment. "Let me do this. Please?"
She didn't have to see him to know that he was pouting, those baby blues wide and begging for her permission.
"Fine..." Dani's lips thinned for a brief second before curling into a half exasperated, half fond smile. "But I still think this is excessive."
"Oh trust me," Malcolm's grin grew, "You haven't seen the half of it."
(~**~) (~**~) (~**~) (~**~)
"Are you sure about this, Jessica?"
Dani called from the dressing room apprehensively, hearing Isabella's high pitched giggling as Jessica bounced the little girl on her knee.
"Of course," the older woman said loftily, cradling Isabella as she leaned back to rest against her, her plush owl in hand. "I didn't bring you to one of the best boutiques just to try things on."
"You're going to have a beautiful gown, something that will put any gaudy outfit Verna Melrose wears to shame."
Dani's eyes crinkled at the corners, the side of her mouth quirked up. The disdain dripping from Jessica's voice told her there was something soap opera worthy behind those words.
"Who's Verna Melrose?"
"Just some woman I have the unfortunate displeasure of knowing." Jessica gave an elegant roll of her eyes, letting Isabella rest her head on her shoulder, "She's a very snobby, very entitled fellow divorcee. Of course the big difference between the two of us is that she dates men half her age."
She shook her head as she stroked Isabella's back, the little girl letting out a curious noise.
"I know I've made my fair share of mistakes when it comes to romance, but at least I've never dated anyone young enough to be my child."
"Oh my goodness! Jessica, is that you?"
A shrill voice called out, making Jessica curse under her breath as she turned to see a veritable fashion assault to her eyes. The woman stalking towards her was in an obnoxiously pink leather skirt and a leopard print blouse with fur cuffs, highlighting overly tanned skin, bleach blonde hair bouncing and gaudy gold heels clicking with every step.
"Speak of the devil," Jessica muttered before she pasted on her high society smile, the one she used whenever she was. "Verna! How lovely to see you."
"I just knew it was you, I'd recognize that style of yours anywhere-oh!"
She stopped mid clap as her eyes fell to Isabella, who buried her little face in the older woman's chest, her tiny hands clutching Jessica's silk blouse.
"You have company."
"Yes, I'm out with a friend at the moment," Jessica soothed the little girl, sensing her discomfort. "Last minute dress shopping for the gala."
Verna tittered.
"Now Jessica, you and I both know babies aren't real company."
"Actually," Dani yanked the curtain back in a dramatic fashion that impressed even Jessica, the curt smile on her face a stark contrast to the delicate, strapless lilac gown she was currently wearing. "She meant me."
Isabella squealed as she flung her arms in Dani's direction, whose face softened as she went to scoop her up. The little girl grinned from ear to ear, dimples deep as her tiny hands patted Dani's cheeks. There was a faint, warm smile on the detective's face as she felt Isabella relax in her arms, her big blue eyes shining brightly for all to see.
"Ah, I see what's going on here!" Verna exclaimed, the unsettling delight in her voice enough to make Dani's stomach churn.
She had been around far too many women like her, knowing all too well where this was heading.
"There's nothing going on here, Verna." Jessica said frostily. "Just you and your paltry imagination."
"Oh, don't try to deny it. Those curls and those Milton blue eyes, this is clearly your granddaughter and..." she scoffed with laughter, eyeing Dani in consideration, "I'm hoping your daughter-in-law. I never got a wedding invitation."
Verna leaned in a little too close to Dani and Isabella, like she was observing an exhibit at the zoo. Dani couldn't help but wrinkle her nose when she caught a whiff of the older woman's strong perfume.
"Well, isn't she a little cutie? Probably for the best that she only has your eyes, Jessica. The Milton genes wear a little thin after a while."
Isabella gave a timid squeak, hiding her fearful little face in Dani's shoulder as the detective shot Verna a pointed glare.
"Verna," Jessica stood up abruptly, distracting the other woman while Dani kept soothing Isabella. "Don't you still have to find your own gown?"
Verna sniffed, quickly losing interest.
"What a fussy child. Certainly glad I don't have to deal with children anymore."
"Not surprising..." Dani muttered with a roll of her eyes.
"Did you say something?"
"I said have a nice day."
Dani's smile was strained and forced as she went back to soothing the baby in her arms, not even bothering acknowledging how Verna's heels clicked angrily against the tiled floor as she stormed away.
"That woman is unbelievable," Jessica groaned, sinking back down as the last of the tension drained away.
"She's always like that, I'm assuming?"
"Believe it or not, that was her being polite." Jessica scoffed before her expression softened, looking over Dani and Isabella to reassure herself that they were alright, "But let's not let that woman ruin our outing."
She paused, giving Dani's gown a critical once-over. The dress itself was beautiful, but it didn't seem right for her. It paled in comparison to the young woman herself.
Dani's brow furrowed with thought as she peered down at the soft colour of the fabric.
"I think the lilac might be too dusty."
"You know what?" Jessica snapped her fingers, her eyes lighting up in recognition. "I do think you're right. Something jewel toned would suit you better, dear."
One thing was certain.
Jessica Whitly wasn't going to let Dani even think of going home until they had found the perfect dress.
(~**~) (~**~) (~**~) (~**~)
Malcolm couldn't sleep that night.
When his mother dropped off Isabella at his apartment, he was happy for the constant stream of distractions, thanking whatever higher power that had Isabella waking up every other hour. Normally he'd hope that Isabella would be comfortable, but with how wound up he currently was, it was like the stars had aligned for him.
It was only half past seven, but Malcolm was free for once. He couldn't stay put in his apartment, no longer having a reason to go to the precinct, having already made the mistake of briefing Gil the information Martin gave the night before.
Maybe…
Maybe some fresh air would do them some good.
But he still couldn't get rid of the sinking feeling in his stomach, even as he was pushing Isabella along in her stroller.
His father now knew that there was a child in his life, one he wasn't even sure would be around for long. There was still the glaring possibility that Evan Huntington would claim parental custody or that Arianna had some distant relative willing to take the little girl in.
It was too much for him to even think about right now, lest it sent him spiralling again.
He heard Isabella kick her feet in excitement as they passed a playground, waving an arm towards the swings and gazed up at him with pleading eyes. Luckily Malcolm spotted an empty baby swing.
"Okay, Izzy," he scooped her from her stroller, a fond smile at the sight of the little girl's eagerness, "I usually go on long walks to think, but I'm willing to make a quick detour so you can get some playtime in."
Isabella gurgled as she tried to grab the chain holding up the swing. He grinned at the baby's excitement as he went to sit her in the swing, but soon found himself tilting his head as he tried to figure out how exactly she was supposed to fit.
"You have to gently pull their legs through the two holes in the swing."
The other voice had Malcolm turning to see a smiling, taller man with his own little girl by the swing next to them, his hair tousled and blue eyes kind and piercing. The toddler in the swing, who Malcolm presumed was the man's daughter, was tiny, with feathery dark curls and round apple cheeks. She could practically give Snow White a run for her money.
"It's like putting them in a shopping cart."
"Thanks."
Malcolm smiled back, grateful for the man's advice.
"How old's yours?"
"Uhh... around eight months." Malcolm looked down at the gleeful little girl kicking her legs with each push from the other man. "How about yours?"
"Three as of last November."
"Four!" The little girl piped up, giggling as she craned her head up to see her father.
"No, Farrah," the other man chuckled, his expression soft and indulgent like powdered sugar. "You're three."
"Daddy, four! One, two, fwee, four!" Isabella giggled at the other child's excitement as Farrah looked up at her father, "See, Daddy? Four!"
The man chuckled once more as he patted her head, making her giggle with a sure Farrah before turning to Malcolm.
"She woke us up at five in morning wanting to go to the park and before we could say anything, her sisters woke up needing attention."
"They were crying for food," Farrah said matter-of-factly.
"Yes, and their big sister very patiently waited until everyone had breakfast before asking about the park again."
"Your daughter's very smart then," Malcolm smiled, thinking that the father-daughter duo were adorable.
"Thanks." The taller man smiled as Isabella kept trying to turn in her swing to find Malcolm, contently cooing as he let her grab his finger, "And yours is very sweet."
"Oh, well, she's-I mean..." Malcolm stammered, not about to spill details of his situation to a complete stranger. "Thank you, she is."
The other man nodded when his phone rang.
"Sorry, just a moment."
Farrah giggled as she waved to Malcolm, who couldn't help but smile as he waved back. The taller man nodded as he spoke into his phone, reassuring his wife that he'd pick up diapers before bringing Farrah back home.
"Is that Mama?"
The toddler perked up as her father effortlessly took her out of the swing, grabbing his phone and her tiny brows furrowed as she looked at the phone screen in confusion.
"Where Mama?"
Malcolm heard a woman's clear laughter coming from the phone as the man took the phone back from his pouting daughter.
"Mama's just talking, there's no video."
"I wanna see Mama."
"We're going to see her now, we just need to pick some things up for your sisters."
He briefly said goodbye to his wife, saying that they'd be back in an hour before giving Malcolm a polite nod.
"Nice meeting you, enjoy the day with your daughter."
"Bye bye!" Farrah grinned, waving enthusiastically.
Malcolm couldn't help but smile back, returning the toddler's wave, wishing the same for the other man.
As the father-daughter pair walked away, Malcolm squatted in front of Isabella, letting the baby pat at his face with a delighted squeal. She gurgled as her fingertips tried to grab his stubble, giggling when he took her little hands and had her grab hold of her swing as he lightly pushed her.
"You know, Izzy, maybe it's a good thing people think you're my daughter. Well..." he tipped his head to the side in consideration. "Other than Mother, of course. I think I can keep you safer that way."
The baby only laughed with delight as Malcolm gently pushed the swing. Every time she came back to him, he made a funny face that made Isabella laugh even more and he couldn't help join in, their laughter echoing through the park.
For a moment, there was no pain, no hopelessness. He just felt...
Happy.