Agnes

Part 13

Author's Note: Just a short, cute little chapter.

Thank you for following along everyone—I would love to know what you think of the story, so I know if I'm completely off track here or hitting some marks. Please let me know with a review.

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"So, remember Zorro and Gonzales were about to have a sword fight?" Don asked Agnes as she snuggled into his side, and he held The Mark of Zorro in his hands.

She nodded. "Zorro said 'On Guard!'" Agnes said as she held out her arm with a pretend sword.

"That's right," Don smiled down at her.

In retrospect, he had completely sucked at packing a children's go bag. He had packed clothes, a toothbrush, colouring books, some hair clips and elastics, some children's Tylenol, and that was about it. The clothes he had packed had been for the summer; not very useful on a cargo ship out on the water with high winds as they made their way to Iceland, which was cold in the summer. The colouring books were great, but not nearly enough to keep a little girl busy for hours everyday. He should have packed her some barbies, some puzzles, maybe some children's books, a ball and glove or skipping rope….

But he hadn't, and they were stuck in this shipping container for 4 days and Agnes was bored. Luckily, Chuck also had a GO bag with some school work they did for a few hours everyday, but other than that, they only had Reddington's supplies. The supplies of a man in his later years, were not conducive to a young girl. There was a lot of booze, Don had enjoyed a glass or two after Agnes was in bed each night and the scotch was the best he'd ever drank. There were tailored suits and shirts, condoms, hardcover classic literature, black and white movies, jazz, blues and big band records, biographies, some medications, gourmet food, enough first aid items to practically perform open heart surgery, and weapons.

Don had done his best. He and Agnes had had a dress-up competition the other night to see how many of Red's clothes they could pull on their bodies and still walk and sit. She had giggled profusely at him wearing six suits and four hats. She had on eight of Red's shirts over her pj's and was tripping over them as she walked. He had picked out all the odd ingredients from the various gourmet dishes Red had in his freezer and tried to convince Agnes to eat them. They had played blind tag in the small space and Agnes had practically split her lip open when she tripped over a metal statue on the floor. That had stopped. He'd allowed her to jump on the couch and the bed to the point where he was sure the springs in both were toast. He'd tried to get her interested in 'His Girl Friday' or 'An American in Paris' movies but except for the singing and dancing numbers in the later, Agnes was not interested. He'd finally discovered that Zorro was a hit and they were now on chapter 4.

"Gonzales whirled at the word, and his blade came up. He saw that Senor Zorro had drawn his sword and that he was holding the pistol in his left hand high above his head. Moreover, Senor Zorro was chuckling still, and the sergeant became infuriated. The blades clashed. Sergeant Gonzales had been accustomed to battling with men who…" Don read.

"Why do they keep saying 'men'?" Agnes asked as she looked up at him.

"Well, it's two men in battle," Don explained. "With swords and a gun and…"

"No girls?" Agnes asked again. This had become an ongoing conversation and Don was convinced Agnes was going to be the leader of the next great feminist movement when she was older.

Don closed the book over and sighed.

"Sweetie, back when this book was written, a long, long time ago, people only thought men could be great fighters, strong, brave…"

"Why?" Agnes asked.

Don shifted. "Well, because they thought a woman's job was to take care of the kids, cook, and play with them while the man was out in the world working, fighting, going on adventures…."

Agnes looked at him perplexed.

"It doesn't mean that's right, or the way it is," Don said worried he had somehow confused her further. "It's actually very brave to be a mom, to take care or children and raise them well, but writers didn't think that way."

"But why?" Agnes asked.

"They were stupid," Don said. It was his go-to answer for anything he couldn't really explain to a five-year-old. "Look, if Zorro was written now, I think Zorro would be a girl. But back then, they didn't think girls were strong or brave, and they were wrong."

Agnes nodded.

"Mummy is strong and brave," she said as she met his eyes.

"Yes, she is," Don smiled at her.

"And she's on adventures," Agnes said.

Don nodded.

"And you are taking care of me," Agnes noted.

And suddenly, Don realized where the smart little girl was going with her statements.

"That's right, we're sort of the girl version of Zorro," Don smiled at her. "Mummy is being brave and out in the world on adventures and I am here with you."

"And you are brave just like mummy," Agnes said as she placed her hand over his.

"I'd like to hope so," Don said as he smiled down at her. "Any other questions?"

Agnes thought for a moment.

"Can I have barbies and Disney when we get there?" She asked.

"Of course," Don said. "This wasn't…planned. We kinda have to make it work for another day and then we'll get the barbies, okay?"

Agnes nodded.

Don read the fourth chapter of The Mark of Zorro to Agnes. By the end of the chapter, she was squirming and needed to get out some energy. He put on a big band record and let her dance and jump around the place. He took some video and would send it to Liz once they were in Iceland, along with the other pictures and videos he had saved on his phone until they were back in an internet zone.

She got a little too wound up and Don had turned off the music and popped them some popcorn while he, again, tried to interest her in another black and white film. Tonight, it was 'Singing in the Rain'. Agnes was less than interested and Don finally conceded to let her play with his hair—something she had tried to convince him she needed to do for the last couple of months. She placed clips, elastics that felt like she was scalping him, little pony tails, combed, brushed, parted, and generally made a mash of his hair for the next hour. But, it served it's purpose, she was much calmer in time for bed and happy he had finally relented on the hair.

"Go see!" Agnes commanded as Don sat wincing as she put in the last elastic.

"Okay munchkin," Don said as he rose off the sofa and walked toward the washroom with her trailing behind him.

He walked into the washroom and Agnes wrapped her one arm around his one leg and giggled full belly laughs with tears coming out of her eyes she was so happy to see his crazy appearance and the surprised look on his face.

He looked in the mirror and saw something he had tried not to hope for or think too much about. A dad. He had pink clips, barrettes of every colour all over his head, elastics with little ponytails in various spots, and Agnes had managed to move his sparse hair in gravity defying concoctions.

"Wow," Don said as he looked at the reflection of him and Agnes and swallowed hard.

"You look beautiful!" Agnes yelled through fits of giggles.

Don reached down and picked her up and looked at the two of them in the mirror. It looked right. In every way, it looked right.

For three months he had been trying to think of this as temporary; he didn't want to let his heart go there, into the territory of dad. He wouldn't be able to bear it if it didn't work out that way. So, he kept those thoughts at bay, kept Agnes an arm's length away from his heart at all times, and sturdied up his walls for the possible downfall of this coming to an end and Liz wanting things to go back to the way they were. He was part of their lives, but not in their lives. But he couldn't do that anymore. The gate had opened, the wall was down, and he was leaving it that way.

"I love you Agnes," Don said into the reflection of the mirror.

He watched Agnes' head turn and felt her place a palm on his cheek. "I love you too."

Don felt his eyes water and tried to keep them from falling, he didn't want to scare her or make her think he was sad. He wasn't.

"Take a picture for mummy," Agnes said as she started to giggle again.

Don nodded and carried her to the living room with him, wiping his eyes with his one free hand and trying to find his phone. He took a couple of selfies of them and, in the last one, Agnes surprised him and kissed his cheek just as the picture snapped. Don hoped Liz could see these pictures for what they were; a dad and his little girl. He needed to talk with her about a more permanent arrangement.

To be continued…