Time to Love P1

“But I want a mommy for Christmas,” Jenny protested, jutting out her tiny lips and forming a cute pout, Joe deciding that his little girl would break hearts one day. She was beautiful - just like her mother.

“Darling, I can’t give you a mommy for Christmas,” Joe explained for the hundredth time in the past two weeks. “What about this…. I’ll order a happy clown and throw you a whopper of a New Year’s Eve party. You can invite all your friends for a sleep-over. We‘ll have fireworks and anything else you want.”

“I don’t wanna,” Jenny persisted, crossing her arms. “Sides, clowns scare me.”

That was it. Whenever Jenny crossed her arms, subject closed.

“Jenny, remember what your counselor told you?” Joe reminded, quirking one dark brow as he gazed down at his daughter.

“Yep. I member lots of things that she told me like….I just want a mommy because it’s normal. Daddy, all my friends have mommies,” she challenged, uncrossing her arms - obviously open to discussion again, he silently noted.

Joe took the opportunity to sit beside her on the sofa. It couldn’t be easy for her - six years old and motherless.

In fact, she’d never known her mother. Not two months after Jenny had been born, Rhonda had taken off with the foreman of his ranch, Clyde Thompson.

Not twenty miles from home, the two had decided that some ‘naughty-nice’ was in order as they continued to head down the thin strip of road married to a mountain. They were discovered later that evening by the sheriff, the jeep wrapped around a tree at the base of the mountain - Rhonda’s legs wrapped around Clyde, her high heels still in place. At least they’d both died with smiles on their faces, Joe silently mocked.

It hadn’t been easy, raising Jenny on his own. But he had to admit that he thought he’d managed quite well. He could cook a mean grilled cheese sandwich, and with the aid of a few ribbons and bows, he was able to fix Jenny’s hair so as it didn’t resemble a total rat’s nest.

On a scale of one to ten, he would give himself a high-five where domestic-related tasks were involved. But as far as fatherly love and affection, that number was off the scales - high off the scales.

“My sweet Jenny,” he began, placing an arm around her and pulling her close.

How could he possibly explain that her dream of having a mommy would never come true? How did one go about breaking a little girl’s heart? After his experience with the cheating Rhonda, he had made a personal commitment to place his focus on raising Jenny. Unfortunately, Rhonda had left him with a sour taste in his mouth that would probably never fade.

He had hoped that the counselor he had hired would have been able to make Jenny see reason, but the woman had appeared more interested in him than in Jenny. And it had been quite embarrassing when Jenny had told him the last time they had left the counselor’s office, “Daddy, why did Counselor Murray hold your hand so long when we were leaving today? Was her hand cold?”

Actually, Counselor Murray’s hand had felt like a wet fish, but he didn’t tell the overly perceptive Jenny that. No mermaid quality there; Counselor Murray would always be a trout.

And when he didn’t respond as quickly as she had wanted him to, Jenny told him, “She won’t do at all for a mommy, daddy. She told me that she didn’t like to bake - and I want a mommy who can bake cookies!”