Parenthood

That Saturday morning, it was almost like my daughter had three bowls of pure sugar for breakfast, she was so hyped up. Birthday's and play centres are one of a kid's favourite things. Britney is fairly popular in her kindy group, so I knew she loved playing with her classmates, and this would be her first outing to a play centre.

Nervously, I walked into the play centre with my daughter. This wasn't just her first birthday party, it was also my first time with her in a public place where I won't be able to see her all of the time. Holding hands, we signed in and I saw Mary. We greeted each other and smiled as Denny, Britney and a few other kids disappeared into the maze of brightly coloured pipes and slides. A few minutes later I was practicing a couple of breathing techniques as I smiled at the other parents, hoping they wouldn't notice my skittishness. With a big deep breath and a sigh, telling myself I was being silly, I began contemplating a bowl of potato wedges and a coke, when I suddenly felt a presence beside me.

Turning around I expect to see one of the parents or family members of one of the kids in the playground. The woman was an attractive blonde with an attractive face, generous curves and an easy smile.

I started to return the smile when my brain suddenly caught up to what I was seeing and my face froze. I suddenly felt my pulse in my ears, roaring like wild water on a flooded river running over rapids. I couldn't help it, I screamed. The blood curdling cry stopped every noise in the centre. How could Shiela be here?

"No!" I yelled. "No! Stay away, get the hell away from me!"

The woman was looking at me with a horrified expression on her face. But I was already back peddling, scrambling to get away as fast as I could. Pretty much everyone in the place was now staring at me as I stumbled over one of the children's chairs and tables, destroying it in my mad dash to get away from her. Without thinking, I picked up the remains of one of the plastic kid's chairs, holding it out in front of me like a lion tamer would against a beast that was about to overwhelm him.

Tears were streaming down my face, and I was whimpering in panic, while the woman just stood there her face a mask of confusion, and yes, of horror. She hadn't moved since I started yelling.

I could feel myself starting to hyperventilate as my daughter burst into the scene in front of me, her arms wide and face intense as she stared down the woman she had never met.

"Stay away from my Daddy!" she shrieked.

Sheila was still standing their horrified that Britney and I are having such an intense reaction to her being here and made no move towards either of us while the centre staff, mere kids making weekend pocket money, are now coming towards us cautiously like we're the lion, not the woman that has ruined my life right in front of me. They must know I need to protect Britney and myself, I am not going to attack them. Suddenly understanding that no one is doing anything to make the situation worse. Britney turns to me, throwing herself into my arms.

"Daddy, what's wrong Daddy," she cries into my chest, not understanding that her mother is standing not more than five steps away from her.

Saying nothing and letting my body move on its own, I reacted by scooping my daughter up into my arms and started again for the exit. Britney was sobbing as everyone watched me retreat. Mary was standing with a look of bewilderment on her face, the same look as pretty much everyone else. But, as I passed through the exit gate, Sheila still hasn't moved, her face is a mask of surprise and horror at my reaction. Good, there is no way I am letting her take my daughter away.

We made it to my car. I have an older model Camry station wagon and opening the door I place Britney into her seat. But then, suddenly, the moment finishes overwhelming me, and I collapsed to the ground sobbing before I could strap her in. I must have been there for five minutes as I felt Britney hugging me, bending over out of the car, her hand running through my hair.

"It's okay Daddy, you're okay Daddy," she kept saying.

I am not sure how much longer it was before I felt another hand on my back, and I turn expecting to see Sheila, feeling ready to lash out before she could trap me again. But it was Brad, Mary's husband and Denny's father.

"Tommy, are you alright?" he asked with real concern etched on his face. He and Mary knew a little of my story, so he's at least got a little sensitivity.

"My Daddy is strong," Britney said before I could reply, "It's always me and him and that lady isn't going to hurt my Daddy," my daughter said confidently making me smile despite the situation.

A small crowd had gathered outside and I noticed that Sheila was standing in the back with a worried expression on her face. For a moment my panic returned until I at last understood that the woman was not Sheila. That poor woman that I just screamed at in panic, had more than a passing resemblance, but she was not the woman who broke me. I couldn't help but look at her as I started my breathing techniques.

Feeling my pulse slow, I picked Britney up out of the car and hugged her tightly, turning back to the gathered, concerned crowd, and let them know that I am okay. For the next few minutes, I blushed profusely as I apologised for my freak out. Brad and Mary also talk with everyone and with my permission they ask if it's okay if Britney and I come back inside.

After several concerned questions and being escorted back inside, the centre manager was really nice and offered to shout me a meal. When I tried to pay for both the meal and the destroyed furniture, he refused. I explained that a few years ago I had quite a bad trauma and it kind of flared up when a few different things came together all at once.

More than one person looked from the woman to me and back again, but I told them that it wasn't her fault, we have never met, though I was still getting puzzled looks from everyone.

Half an hour later I was sitting at a table with my wedges and a coke, when the woman came over and sat down beside me.

In barely a whisper, she gently asked, "Are you really, okay?"

Closing my eyes briefly I swallowed, then again, fighting the memories, since even her voice sounded like Sheila. Her voice was a bit deeper than Britney's mothers, but still very similar. While my logical brain recognised wasn't my abuser, after all Sheila had passed away over three years ago. But still I was struggling with my emotions. While there were similarities in appearance, up close, this woman did look different.

Sighing, fighting to calm the emotion, I opened my eyes again and tried to give her a warm smile.

"Yeah," I reply quietly. "I'm sorry I reacted to you like that. It's just that you remind me of someone that I knew years ago and unfortunately for me it was not... a pleasant experience."

At that moment Britney came running up, hugged me and gave me a kiss, asking if I was okay, before giving the woman another stare. I told her I was okay, so after another moment, my daughter ran off to play again. She had been doing that every few minutes since we went back in. It did make us all smile.

"She's very cute," the non-Sheila woman said. "I'm guessing her mother..."

I shake my head.

"She died during childbirth," I spoke. The woman nodded like she already knew.

While I am struggling to look at her for more than a moment, I sensed her hesitation, as if she was wrestling with a question.

After a few moments, like she was afraid to ask, she just blurted it out, still in a quiet voice. "You're him, aren't you? You're the man that Sheila hurt?"

It took a moment for me to register that the woman was talking about Britney's mother and my rapist. Somehow understanding that my panic was again rising, she put both her hands up sensing my emotions were moving towards the wrong place.

"It's alright, I'm no threat," she told me in the least threatening way possible. "I'm not going to harm you or your daughter."

I nod, not entirely convinced. 'Breathe Tommy', I tell myself, 'just breathe'.

"I'm Sarah," she added a moment later, extending her hand then looking at me, pulled it back and tried to smile at me in a non-hostile manner.

I swallow and dig deep within myself, extending out a shaky hand and she touches it lightly.

"Tommy," I say cautiously.

It took a little time, mainly me fighting back the impulse to grab my daughter and run, some patience from Sarah, and a few more concerned adults like Mary and Brad checking in on me, but we chatted and it turned out that Sarah was Sheila's cousin, their mothers are sisters. She had brought a child to the party as a favour to a friend, who's parents couldn't make it today.

Sarah admitted that she knew only a little of the history of what happened between Sheila and me. The family was quite tight lipped about anything to do with Sheila. Outside of her parents, no one was willing to confirm that she had been pregnant, let alone had given birth. To most, it was just rumour. The only thing the family knew for sure was that she had done something horrid to a guy and had died in prison because of it. Sarah explained while watching Britney play, there had been rumour of a child, but no confirmation. Her aunt and uncle, Sheila's parents, apparently thought the child had died with Sheila or was given up for adoption.

"But that's her, isn't it?" Sarah asked me while we continued watching Britney playing with two of her friends from daycare. They were running up and down a slide and I noticed the Britney was sticking to the edge near me and wouldn't go too far inside the play area if it meant she couldn't see me for more than a few seconds.

She continued, "That's Sheila's daughter and you're her father, aren't you." It was more of a statement then a question and I nodded slowly.

"Yes," I said softly, again looking at my precious daughter. At that moment Britney looked over and I waved, she smiled and waved back. "I... It was... Look sorry, this is hard. Britney is everything to me. She is the only good thing that came out of that awful time. Most days I don't see... her. I just see Britney..."

I was at a loss for further words, and I chanced a glance at Sarah who was nodding sadly.

"As I said Tommy," Sarah explained quietly. "I don't know much about what happened. But from what I have heard and your reaction earlier when you thought I was Sheila, I know it wasn't good."

Over the next hour as we spoke further, I was non-committal on pretty much everything. But I think Sarah could understand. She tried to be friendly, but honestly outside of Britney, I could feel myself withdrawing from the situation, putting up my barriers. By the time we left, I was barely functioning.

That night at home, Britney was very affectionate. "Daddy, are you otay?"

"It's pronounced, okay, sweetie," I replied with a forced smile. "And yes, Daddy is okay."

"You scared me," she said with tears in her eyes. Then she whispered, "I thought you might die."

Death had been an interesting topic for the two of us. From almost the time she could talk in full sentences about a year ago, she had a curiosity about death. This stemmed from her day care where she understood that she didn't have a mother and I had to carefully explain that her mother had died.

"I'm not going anywhere Brit," I told her as I tucked her in. "I just got... a little scared myself today."

She looked at me for a minute, a very severe expression on her face.

"Did that lady hurt you?" she asked concerned.

I shook my head smiling.

"No Sweetie," I replied. "She didn't and it wasn't her fault. She just looked like someone that I once knew that hurt me a lot."

"I hope I never meet her," Britney told me now scowling. "I would punch her."

I smiled sorrowfully, though my daughter didn't understand why. How do I tell her that it was her own mother that hurt me badly enough that I reacted like I did to someone I had never met.

When I climbed into bed later, I tossed and turned for a few hours, then took a couple of sleeping tablets that I hadn't needed very often since before Britney had come into my life. I then fell into a restless sleep.

At work the next week I was surprised when I was summoned to the front security desk and I found Sarah there wanting to talk with me. Swallowing the sense of panic in the back of my brain. I called my manager up and let her know I would be out for a while, perhaps for a few hours.

Sarah and I ended up walking to a coffee shop on the next block that was overlooking the construction of a new transport centre for the city. We ordered coffee, Sarah had a caramel Latte, and I had my usual oak milk cappuccino. As we sat down there was an awkward silence.

After taking a few sips of my coffee, I finally ventured, "What can I do for you Sarah." I purposely spoke her name, more to convincing myself that she wasn't Sheila than anything else.

She watched me for another moment, taking in my slightly harried look and the darting of my eyes around the room.

She swallowed.

"I'm sorry Tommy," she explained. "For the most part, I wanted to find out how you were doing. I mean I have never been so frightened in my life to have my mere visage cause that type of a reaction in another person. I didn't sleep at all this past weekend. And as bad as it was for me, it must have been worse by orders of magnitude for you."

I nodded and swallowed again, then a few moments later, again.

"It's alright," I finally told her. "It's not like you can help that you look like her... um, Sheila."

I looked at Sarah for a minute and she tried not to be too obvious when she returned my gaze.

"Would you be willing to indulge me with something for a few moments?" I asked her.

She gave me a tight smile and nodded, but I could also see the concern in her eyes. I took a deep breath and for the first time set my focus on the woman in front of me.

Sarah was an attractive woman in her own right. Her hair was a lighter shade of blonde than Sheila's, her eyes were hazel instead of blue, but she held her posture the same way. Her arms were delicate with more freckles and her lips were perhaps less prominent than Sheila's. There was no doubting they were related. But upon close inspection, there was also no doubt that they were very different women.

After a minute of my not saying anything, Sarah was looking uncomfortable. But I held up my hand and gave her the very first warm smile that had nothing to do with my past trauma with her cousin.

"Sorry, I know that was awkward," I explained. "It's something one of my counsellor's taught me if I was to ever run across someone that looked like her... I mean like Sheila. I just needed to look at you and tell my mind again that you're not her. I needed to show myself the differences between the two of you so I can see you as a different person."

Sarah nodded, again hesitating to ask the question that I know she wanted to ask, I waited and smiled as she took a very deep breath. I knew it was coming.

"Tommy, what really happened?" she asked. "I mean we knew that Sheila was with a guy, that something bad happened. I now know that someone was you. I'm guessing that you were together for a period of time, but she did something horrid that landed her in prison where she died. But what really happened? No one in the family that knows anything will say anything and the rest of us whisper about rumours. I mean I get that something bad happened, but can you talk about it?"

I looked at her another minute. Over the past couple of years, I had only spoken about what happened with my parents and my shrink. Anyone else who asked I promptly ignored till they stopped asking questions.

Was I going to do that to her cousin, a woman who looked to have more concern for me and what happened on the weekend than just being motivated by curiosity.

Time to be brave!

I undid the buttons on my cuffs and rolled my sleeves up showing the scars on my wrists. Sarah gasped seeing the bunched-up skin.

"She... Sheila, drugged me, tied me down and ra... had her way with me for a number of hours against my will. These scars and the ones on my ankles are the reminders I have from trying to resist her, for trying to say no." As I explained what happened, Sarah grew pale, her eyes going wider and wider in shock.

As I rolled my sleeves back down, I explained in a certain amount of detail, how we met, spent a couple of months dating, our breakup and the ill-fated evening meeting and what happened afterwards. Surprisingly I never shed a tear during the retelling, but Sarah did, having to retrieve several tissues through my story.

"Sheila, would not take no for an answer and I paid the price," I sighed as I finished.

"But," I told Sarah and paused while smiling for the first time in my story. "Through the pain I got Britney."

I thought about how to explain my forced parenthood, unexpected and unwelcome. And how Britney became my reason for living.

"For the first month I couldn't stand it," I told her. "She was the product of an evil thing that was done to me. But then it all changed."

"What... What happened?" Sarah asked, her voice uncertain, still holding a tear-stained tissue in one hand.

"Britney did an exploding poo all over me while I was changing her nappy," I told her wrinkling my nose while smiling.

"What?" Sarah said eyes wide again, but this time at my statement and my smile.

"Yeah," I said. "I was still pretty much a shell of a person when Britney came to me. And while my parents have been amazing, they couldn't be there all the time. Like most first time parents, I was sleep deprived. Britney was a fussy infant, and never slept for more than an hour, or at most two, at a time in the first six months.

"Well, it was one evening, not sure what day it was, they were all blending together at that time, and I was changing a wet nappy. I was slowly getting used to the process of lift, remove, clean and change. But for some reason, Britney was crying when I removed her nappy. So, without thinking, I picked her up bare ass naked."

Sarah smiled.

"I was doing that thing that all dad's do with her over my shoulder when she suddenly stopped crying and then let loose. The runniest, sloppiest stingiest mess just came out of my daughter and covered my hands, my body and was dripping on the floor in great disgusting blobs."

We both wrinkled our noses. Worse for me than Sarah, I could still smell the memory.

"What did you do?" Sarah asked eagerly wanting to know the end of the story.

I shrugged.

"I kind of lost it," I admitted. "Oh, I kept Britney safe, I may have been a broken man, and full of regret for what had been done to me, but Britney relied on me for life, and I would be a fool to do anything to hurt her. So covered in poop I sank to the floor, and I sat there holding her and sobbing at what my life had become.

"But while I sat there, Britney touched my cheek and giggled. It was the first time, only a few months old and she touched my cheek." I smiled at the memory; my daughters' eyes wide as she was only just able to turn her head to look at me. A week before I would have had to support her neck and head.

"It was a watershed moment for me," I continued explaining. "For the first time since everything started happening, I laughed and Britney joined in laughing with that baby squeal that they do, which set me off again. We went from sadness to joy and for the next five minutes we laughed at each other. Here we were father and daughter covered in poo, tired in the dead of night, laughing like nothing else mattered."

Sarah was now smiling, seeing the happiness reflected in my own eyes as I recalled the memory.

"So, it was at that point I decided that I was going to pull myself out of the shit I was in," Sarah laughed at my statement. "I took us both into the shower, washed the mess down the drain and cleaned us up before putting Britney to bed. I kissed her before putting her down and that was the first night that I told my daughter I loved her.