THE GUY WITH THE BABY DOLL AT TARGET WASN’T WHO I THOUGHT HE WAS

I saw him in the cereal aisle—built like a linebacker, beard down to his chest, tattoos that looked like prison ink. He was cradling a baby doll. I mean, full-on holding it like it was real, adjusting its little pink hoodie and everything. Honestly? I thought he might’ve been off.

People were staring. Some giggling, some avoiding eye contact. But he didn’t seem to notice. He just kept shopping, murmuring to the doll like, “You want the blueberry waffles again, huh?” Like that.

I passed him again near the freezer section, and this time I couldn’t help it. I smiled a little and said, “Cute baby.” I was expecting him to grunt or ignore me. Instead, he looked right at me and said, “Thanks. Her name’s Dani. She’s the only part of my daughter I get to hold.”

I didn’t know what to say.

He saw my face and just… sighed. “She passed last year. Car accident. This doll was hers. Her favorite. I take her with me every Saturday. Just like we used to do.”

My stomach dropped. All I could manage was a quiet, “I’m so sorry.”

He nodded once, kind of like that was the end of the conversation, and rolled his cart away. Still talking softly to Dani like nothing had changed.

I stood there holding a frozen pizza, completely stunned. And then I did something I didn’t expect—I chased after him.

Continue reading…