First Love

I stood at the arrival gate, my eyes trained for the deep black hair of my daughter. Then, as if I'd conjured her up with my thoughts, there she was: her skin a warm chestnut from her summer vacation in California, her pink carry-on backpack slung over one shoulder only, her hand attached to a distinctly male one.

Guess her love for him survived the summer then, I thought, pursing my lips.

"Mom!" she exclaimed as her eyes locked with mine, a grin stretching wide over her face. She let go of James's hand and ran over, throwing her arms around me. She smelled like sand and sunshine and airplane peanuts.

"Honey! Oh, I missed you!" I drew back to look at her. "Look at you, you look great."

"You do too, Mom. You cut your hair! I like it."

I'd cut my plain hair into a short bob at the beginning of the summer and it had grown a few inches since then. I fingered it self-consciously, just as James finally arrived.

"Thanks, baby." Out of obligation to my daughter, I added a polite, "Hello, James," before suggesting we go get their luggage.

As we made our way down to baggage claim, Danielle regaled us with everything she’d learned about sharks during her time away. How they were deeply misunderstood, some even going extinct. How scared she was when James took her to a shark sanctuary in San Diego. How James set her at ease with his vast and acute knowledge of the great sea creatures. How James bought her this beautiful shark necklace with an actual diamond in it. James James James.

Hearing that my only daughter spent any time near a creature that was perceived as so deadly that there was an entire week named in their honor sent a shudder through me. It wasn’t that I meant to be overprotective. I let her go on the trip, despite my every misgiving. Then again, the only beastly thing I expected Danielle to encounter this summer was James and at least I knew he wouldn’t literally eat her alive.

Danielle laced her fingers into James's again as we reached the baggage carousel, all smiles, not knowing that I still wanted to rip his hand from hers and tell him to go back to where he came from.

It was their first summer together. Her first summer away from home. From me. I wanted her to enjoy herself, of course, but at the same time, there was a selfish part of me that wanted to break her foolish enchantment with James. He was no good for her. She deserved better. And I'd told him so before they'd left.

I’d pulled him aside while Danielle finished some last-minute packing and told him point-blank that I'd kill him if he hurt my daughter. He swore he wouldn't, but I knew better. He loved her, would never do anything to jeopardize their relationship, he'd told me. But I'd heard that story before and didn't believe a word that came out of his mouth. He had the audacity to tell me to relax. But how could I? Danielle had only known him for one rocky, tumultuous year and already they were going across the country on vacation together. He was already trying to take my daughter from me.

She's going to want to see more of him, I suddenly thought with barely concealed panic. Christmas, Thanksgiving, all major holidays, really. And what could I do? I couldn't say no. It would be Christmas. I couldn't separate a nine year old girl from her father on Christmas.