He Called Our Night a Mistake, So I Raised His Daughter Without Him novel · Chapter 3 of 24

Chapter 3: Three Questions

Rosetta asks Sullivan three questions at the kitchen table with her mother watching, a cheek swab is agreed, and his truck is still outside at midnight.

I let him in for ten minutes.

I told myself it was because Rosetta would not stop asking, and a six-year-old who is told no will find the door herself.

That was only half true.

The other half was that I wanted to watch his face when she talked to him.

Rosetta sat on her usual chair at the kitchen table with the towel still around her neck.

Sullivan took the chair across from her.

I stayed standing at the counter with my arms folded.

"I have three questions," Rosetta said.

"Okay."

"Mom says three is the most you can ask a stranger."

"Your mom's right," Sullivan said. "Go ahead."

Rosetta thought about it, tongue against her loose tooth.

"Are you a soldier?"

"I used to be a sailor. A special kind. I'm not one anymore."

"Why not?"

"That's a second question."

She narrowed her eyes at him.

"It's the same one."

"It isn't. But I'll answer it." He turned his left hand over on the table. "I got hurt. My ears don't work right in loud places and my knee doesn't bend all the way. So they let me go."

"Does it hurt?"

"Some days."

"That's three," Rosetta said, pleased with herself. "Now I have one more, because I can have three more."

"That's not how it works," I said.

"It's a little how it works," Sullivan said, and I saw the corner of his mouth move.

Rosetta leaned over the table.

"How did you know my name?"

I held my breath.

"Someone showed me a picture of you," Sullivan said. "A long time ago I knew your mom. I didn't know about you, and then I found out, and I wanted to look at you. I should have asked your mom first. I'm sorry I scared you."

"You didn't scare me."

"Good."

"You scared Mom."

"I know."

"Do you like drawing?" Rosetta asked. "I draw maps."

"I've seen a lot of maps."

"Real ones?"

"Real ones."

She slid off the chair and ran to her room, and I heard drawers banging.

Sullivan and I looked at each other across the kitchen.

He kept his voice down.

"She has your laugh."

"Don't."

"I'm only saying."

"I know what you're saying."

Rosetta came back with a roll of paper tied in yarn and spread it over the table.

It was a map of our street, with the bungalow in the middle and a little brown dog drawn in the yard that we didn't own.

She walked him through it with one finger.

He asked about the dog, and she told him the dog was named Biscuit and was going to be real next year, and Sullivan said that was a good plan.

I stood there and watched my daughter explain the world to the man who had left me alone in it.

He wasn't doing it wrong.

That was the problem.

At nine-thirty I said bedtime.

Sullivan stood, and then he reached into his jacket and took out a small plastic envelope.

"I bought this on the way."

It was a cheek swab kit, two sticks in sealed paper.

"I'll do my own while you watch, and you do yours," he said. "And hers if you say yes. We'll mail them tomorrow from the post office, and you can watch me drop them in the box."

"Rosetta, come here, baby."

"Is it a science thing?" Rosetta asked.

"It's a science thing," I said.

She opened her mouth wide for the swab and counted out loud, and Sullivan did his own, and I did mine.

When he left I locked the door behind him and leaned against it.

Then I called my brother.

Nico picked up on the second ring.

"Rina, it's late. Everything okay?"

"Sullivan Hartigan was at Rosetta's school today."

There was a silence.

"What?"

"He knew her name, Nico. He had her lunchroom picture in his wallet. Somebody gave him my address."

"Okay," my brother said slowly. "Okay. Stay calm. Where is he now?"

"A rental on Haywood Road. How would I know?"

"I'll drive down Friday."

"Did you tell him? Did you tell anyone where I live?"

"Rina." He sounded hurt. "Come on. I swear on the bakery. It's Mom. She shows that picture to everyone at church. You know she does."

I closed my eyes.

I did know she did.

"Friday," Nico said. "Lock your doors. Don't do anything until I get there."

I hung up and stood in my dark kitchen, and then I turned the light off over the stove and went to bed.

At midnight I got up for water.

I looked out the front window.

A pickup was parked across the street under the streetlight, engine off.

Someone was sitting in it.

It had been there, I realized, since I'd locked the door.

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