Just an idea that wouldn't leave my head.

The cigarette was a comfortable feeling around his lips, but the sun was an unpleasant stab into his eyes. He stood outside the ridiculously large mall, leaning against the planter boxes by the main entrance. He checked his watch yet again and wondered where they were.

She called that morning, a warning that she would be late, but when wasn't she late? He didn't blame her, she worked. Hard. Even after giving up so much.

Deep inside, he knew she resented him. It was their baby, their child. He paid for the pre-natal care and she suffered nine months of bloating and nausea. He held her hand and listened to the doctors while she endured fourteen hours of labor. He kissed her forehead, held the baby in his arms and said, "Do you want me to stay?"

It was her choice to say no. From the moment he asked the question he knew she'd say no. Because that's just how Theresa was. She wouldn't admit that she wanted him there to raise their child. Especially not if he had to ask.

The odd part was, that it was never his choice to ask. If it had been up to him, he would have moved his bed into the nursery and listened to the baby sleep all day long. He loved her from her first breath.

Even when the Cohens dragged him back to Newport, he counted the minutes before he could drive back and see her. Hold her in his arms. Kiss the roundness of her cheeks. His daughter. Ella Atwood.

Now he was waiting for her. He was willing to bet that Ella arrived sleeping, and Theresa arrived looking frazzled, pushing the stroller with one hand and rumaging through the baby back with another. She always arrived like that and it hurt him to see.

They were twenty one now. Ella was four. Ryan was almost done with his third year at UCSB. Theresa was waitressing through days and going to community college classes at night. Ella lived in the apartment with Theresa right by the UCSB campus. They pretended to be a family, at least for Ella's sake.

Ella, Ella. Ella Enchanted. Somewhere in Junior High, Theresa fell in love with the book. Out loud, she called it "Stupid Cinderella fantasy" but Ryan noticed that it never left her bedside table. He called his baby girl Ella Enchanted. And she giggled and squealed. Daddy's little princess.

Now he was at the entrance of the mall, stepping on his cigarette, checking his watch. Waiting anxiously for his turn to take care of his daughter.

--------------------X--------------------------

Though Ryan had expected Theresa to be late, he hadn't expected anyone else to show up at the mall. At least, no one he knew. They were all over the country now- his friends. Seth in New York. Marissa in Miami. Luke in Portland. Anna in Pittsburgh. Summer in San Francisco. Everyone else in Chino.

But a brunette, in a denim mini skirt and an orange cardigan, tapped his shoulder as he stood waiting for his daughter.

"Summer?!"

"Hey Chino," she smiled. "You go to malls?" It was the first joke, the first anything he had heard from Summer in quite a while. In fact, he had barely kept in contact with her after graduation. It might have had something to do with her disasterous break up with Ryan's psuedo-brother.

"Yeah," he said with a smile. The smile was genuine, like most things about Ryan.

"So what are you doing here?" She squinted in the sunlight. "From what I remember, you weren't a big fan of shopping." They laughed. Hers was light and airy, his was a respectful chuckle. Sometimes small talk was a good thing.

It was just small talk.

"I'm actually waiting for my..." He trailed off as he caught sight of something in the distance. A miniscule blur of pink came rushing towards him, crashing against his legs and holding on tightly to his worn out jeans.

"Daddy Daddy Daddy Daddy!" the little dark haired creature squealed. "Daddy!"