A Father's Quest by Debra Salonen

small, perfect moments that truly told a story about the person he was filming. He was particularly astute where his daughter was concerned.
    Brigitte Galloway was a normal kid. Average height but a tad skinny, Remy decided, comparing her to the many nieces and nephews Remy had rocked, chased and babysat over the years. Her proud papa was right, though, Birdie was also special.
    Remy couldn’t define that exact essence that made the child so adorable. Was it her gangly legs that churned with happy abandon, running even before she could walk without falling? Or possibly the wide, gap-toothed smile that robbed you of the ability to breathe with its sheer cuteness. More than likely, the sparkle of intelligence and curiosity in her big green-gold eyes had a lot to do with Birdie’s appeal.
    “Your daughter is a doll. And I love how feisty she is when the two of you butt heads.” Remy had seen all she could take. Feeling a little bit like a voyeur, she’d tried to skip ahead through the parts that showed Jonas and his ex-wife. But it hadn’t been easy. She was curious. How could she not be? This was the man she’d loved with all her heart, and he’d married someone who could have been Remy’s sister.
    He looked up from his mother’s older, dinosaur of a desktop computer, which sat on a boxy oak desk in the far corner of the room. Terrible feng shui, she’d decided, since the person at the desk had his back to everyone. The entire home was in need of a serious makeover.
    And Jonas was right about the carpet. It didn’t look bad, but she was quite certain it was the source of the smell that seemed to have settled in her nostrils. Cat? Coffee? Or simply a residual mustiness that came with age?
    “Thanks. She is amazing. And you’re right about us butting heads, but I always figured this was a good thing.”
    “How so?” She checked her cell phone to make sure she hadn’t missed any calls from her sister. She wondered how far north they would make it today.
    “Kids need to feel safe enough to test their boundaries. When you live with someone with mental-health issues, the parameters change daily, sometimes hourly. I tried my best to give Birdie unconditional love with room to take risks.”
    “That’s very evolved. Where did you learn to be such a good parent?”
    He swung his high-back upholstered chair to face her. “The one positive aspect of Cheryl’s condition was it forced me to read everything I could get my hands on about coping with craziness—for want of a better word. Knowledge saved my sanity and, I hope, made our family a little bit more normal for Birdie. It was the best I could do under the circumstances.”
    “Is Birdie the reason you stayed together as long as you did?”
    He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His sigh sounded sad and reflective. “Even though life was a roller coaster some of the time with Cheryl, there were moments when it was a fun ride. I’ve never been big on spontaneity. Probably ’cause the one time I acted impulsively, I wound up in a deep, dark well, right?”
    “So, having a partner who kept things edgy might have seemed like a good mix.”
    “Exactly. Until things got out of hand with her disappearances. She wouldn’t call, text or email. I once filed a missing person’s report with the police, the whole she-bang. They were considering sending out search parties along the river when she strolled in as calmly and carelessly as if she’d been shopping and forgot the time.”
    “Where was she?”
    “I don’t know. She told the police one thing. Me, another. My mother something else completely. I moved out, totally prepared to call it quits. But a month later, she called to tell me she was pregnant.”
    A thought Remy had no business thinking popped into her head, but before she could even scold herself for being so quick to judge, Jonas added, “The first words out of my mouth were, ‘Whose baby is it?’” He made a face. “Not the best way