Meeting Becky
"Are you my new Daddy?" The little girl couldn't have been any older than four, but there was something about her tone of voice that made me think of a much older woman. A kind of sad cynicism that told of disappointments past, and the anticipation of yet another one. I'm normally a fast thinker, but I was caught flat-footed for a second. She waited patiently, though, another sign of maturity beyond her apparent years. "I certainly wouldn't mind if I was," I told her at last, "But...