"Mhm hm. That definitely hit the spot."
With a satisfied smile, Jeannie crumpled the empty paper bag into a ball and threw it in the nearby trashcan, before leaning back against the wooden bench, her eyes drifting over the flocks of pigeons searching the park for leftovers to snack on.
Over the past half hour, Mike had kept their conversation casual, never wandering off topics like the weather, tonight's dinner plans and his overwhelming gratitude for the Christmas gift he'd received from his department.
Understanding the unspoken request to return to common ground and avoid to digress into heated topics that could make both of their tempers flare; Jeannie had played along nicely, keeping her voice gentle and appreciating the offer to catch a sandwich for lunch.
And so they'd sat there for a while, quietly enjoying each other's presence, silently healing from the storm of personal hardship that had befallen the Stone household throughout the past year.
As if they understood the nervous tension surrounding a certain two people on that park bench, the pigeons had kept a respectful distance, instead deciding to bother a couple seniors sitting on the other side of the water fountain.
"I remember when I turned thirteen and I complained about getting older and not being able to play as much as I wanted to any longer because school got busy…and you told me that life would be one uphill battle after another. And I didn't believe you then. But I do now."
Falling quiet again when her voice threatened to break, Jeannie glanced down at her lap, nervously fidgeting with her skirt, before exhaling a shuddered breath.
Mike acknowledged her thoughts with a faint nod, vividly recalling the words of advice given out so many years ago.
"There's just no handbook to growing up, hun.", he finally said and turned toward his daughter, "Or adulthood, for that matter. We all struggle, trying to make it through the endless ups and downs thrown our way, hoping to stay alive long enough to see our grandchildren grow up. But what happens between birth and death, well, it can be pretty vague at times. And confusing. And irritating."
"You mean like having a daughter who accidentally got pregnant just to lose the baby shortly thereafter?"
The self-depreciating comment was followed by an angry snort, when Jeannie shook her head, then covered her face with her palms, as if the shame was too unbearable.
"Don't be saying things like that, please."
Deciding to stop the damaging mindset in the making, Mike reached for her wrist and gently pulled her his way, until Jeannie glanced back up.
"But it's true, Mike. What was I thinking? What were Eric and I thinking when this…this happened? It didn't just affect us; it affected so many people around us. It was stupid. And selfish. And I let my anger out on the one person who stood by me throughout my entire life. And that was wrong."
Moving his hands up to her shoulders and grasping them tightly, Mike felt quiet for a moment, carefully sorting out the many words circling his mind that afternoon.
"It takes two to have an argument, sweetheart.", he finally said and cupped her chin, forcing Jeannie to look up, "I was just afraid for your safety. You're my only daughter. I fell in love with you the day you were born and watched you grow into a beautiful young woman. My daughter, who overcame many more challenges than any other girls her age ever had to face and still does. A daughter who is wise like her mother, and fierce and…and stubborn like her father. So I guess what I am trying to say is, as long as you are happy, whether it is with this Eric character or not, whether you want to get married or not, whether you want to try for a baby again or not, it's fine by me…just…just make sure that you are happy. Nothing else matters to me."
When a sob escaped her pursed lips, Jeannie leaned forward to embrace Mike, her warm hands wrapped around his back like a drowning person holding onto a life ring.
He didn't move for many long minutes, allowing his daughter to work through the grief one tear at a time while offering the only thing he could; unconditional love and support.