Chapter Nineteen - The D Word

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DOMINICK'S POV

   One of the neighbors on the block set off fireworks at midnight, which woke Mollie up. My parents' New Years party is still in full-swing downstairs, which means my parents are unavailable to help me. Since both of my guests left two hours ago, I have nothing else to do except walk around my room with Mollie. She cries loudly, her hands tightly grasp the fabric of my shirt. "It's all okay." I say as my fingers rub small circles on her back.

   What was the whole thing between Linkon and Tyde about? What did he say? Why did she slap him? Why did they both leave? Questions plague my mind as I continue to try to soothe Millie back to sleep. More fireworks go off outside, not helping at all with the situation.

  Frustration begins to fester inside me, frustration from the crying and from all the questions. Lately, I find myself gaining more questions than answers; and when I do get one answer, I gain more questions as well.

   The custody-case is going to be re-opening in less than four months. My parents and I have had several lengthy discussions about what I should do. The conclusion to be taken away from all the discussions is that I should fight for joint-custody. Ensure that Mollie has both sides of her family active in her life. However, the Wiltons give us the impression that they pursue to petition for full custody. During this time, I can only wonder how things would be if Nikki were here. Perhaps, our families would make things work. Perhaps, we would make things work.

   Mollie let's out a loud wail and squirms in my arms. I try to see if she she can be rocked to sleep in her swing because the swing downstairs in the study. A screaming-crying baby is a defiant way to kill the mood of a party.

  Pine is no where to be found. Mollie will scream her head off if I set her down on her back or her stomach. All I can do is hold her and try to get her to calm down. "Please don't cry." I say.

  Katie would know what to do. She has the maternal instinct needed to deal with situations like this.

  "Hey Mollie, dada is here. Dada is here." I say gently bouncing her. The word "dada" comes out naturally. Holy sh*t! I suddenly realize that this is the first time I have ever called myself that out loud.  I haven't even really called myself a father out loud.

   For a moment, something inside me changes and takes over. I move Mollie from my shoulder and cradle her out in front of me. For one moment, I do not see a baby who was left at the front door, the baby who I call mine. I see my daughter. Her green eyes are the same as mine and her brown hair is the same mine as well. For a moment, I see both myself and Nikki looking back at me.

  The sound of my cellphone ringing breaks me out of the moment. I quickly adjust Mollie back on my shoulder and answer the phone. "Hold on, baby is crying." I say as I put the phone on mute. I set Mollie on her back on my bed in between two of pillows. I keep one hand on her as I search for something to give her from my bedside table. Eventually, I come up with a baseball. I lean her back against a small stack of firm-pillows and place a couple pillows around her. She has calmed down and is focused on the ball. You should be good for a few minutes. I say in my head as I un-mute my phone.

"Okay, I'm back. Who is this?" I ask.

"The guy who got slapped and didn't get to enjoy any meatballs." Linkon says. His words are slightly slurred, he's been drinking or is possibly still drinking.

"Are you drunk?" I ask.

"Stay away from that girl." he says completely ignoring my question,

"Why?" I ask.

"I'm your best friend and I'm looking out for you, that's why."

"Still not really answering the question." I say.

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