Ahmad had dropped a huge bomb on me. He was a father. I was not expecting that. I knew a few brothers who had become teenaged fathers but none of them was half as committed to their children as Ahmad seemed to be to his daughter. I was impressed with the way he was handling everything, considering it all had been dumped in his lap practically overnight. His complete focus on his daughter’s future was clear and I knew that if Ahmad and I were going to have a future together, it would require my total acceptance of the situation.
The weekend after Ahmad told me about her, I went to New York with him. I wanted to meet the girl who made his eyes dance when he spoke her name. Everything about Ahmad’s mood changed when he talked about Corrie. It was perhaps the sweetest thing I’d ever witnessed in my life.
It would be nice if all fathers felt that way about their little girls.
I thought a lot about my father as I sat peering out of the car window. The only thing my father saw when he looked at me was a victim, someone he could use for his own enjoyment. He was a tyrant and a pedophile. I prayed that one day someone would stand up to him about all of the horrible things he did.