Chapter 17: Four Stitches

Lottie was sitting up when we got to the unit, with the remote in her good hand and tears running into her bandage.

The nurse took the remote away and went out without a word.

I sat on the edge of the bed.

"Mommy," Lottie said. "The lady on TV said Daddy isn't my daddy."

"I know, baby."

"Is it true?"

I looked at Terrence in the doorway.

He gave me a small nod and stayed where he was, with his hands open at his sides.

I took her good hand in both of mine.

"It's true," I said. "I'm sorry you heard it from a TV and not from me."

"Why did he say he was?"

"Because he was a coward for a long time. That's not your fault. Not one bit of it."

Her chin shook.

"Did he not want me?"

I had known this question would come, and I had no clean answer to it.

"I don't know what he wanted," I said. "I know he did a wrong thing when you needed him. I know he's not allowed near you now."

"Is he mad at me?"

"No. Nobody's mad at you. Not ever."

She wiped her nose on her wrist, and she looked past me at the doorway.

"Uncle Terrence has my eyes," she said.

"Everybody says that," I said.

"The nurse said it too. She said it this morning. She said, look at those two."

Terrence came in then.

He crouched beside the bed as he had that first night, so his face was level with hers.

"Lottie," he said. "Your mom and I want to tell you something, and you can ask us anything you like."

"Okay."

"I'm not just your uncle. I'm your father."

She looked at him for a long time.

Her mouth made a small, serious shape, and I watched her put it together with the five-year-old arithmetic she did on everything.

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