Page 64 of Pink

FOURTEEN

“DADDY?”

Lev did his best to smother the smile at yet another interruption from Arely during their nightly story time. It was the exact reason why what should be a half-hour of reading easily turned into an hour. Sometimes more, depending on which book they picked up. He encouraged the questions, though. He never even suggested she should just keep quiet and let him read to her.

Why would he?

That wasn’t how she learned.

“Yes, dove?”

At his side in the twin bed, that he mostly filled, Arely peered up at him from underneath her pink duvet with yellow flowers. Her favorite color was still bright yellow. The sunniest, happiest of all the colors. He thought it was appropriate seeing as how she was also the brightest ray of sunshine in his entire life.

“Where’s mine?” she asked, her small brow knitting together at the question.

“Your what?”

“My mommy—like the ducky mommy. Where’s mine?”

Lev blinked, the ache that stabbed into his chest all at once coming on without warning and with no mercy. It hurt like a bitch, but he didn’t show it to his daughter. She was still staring up at him, after all, patiently waiting for his answer like she did with all her questions. Unlike him, she didn’t seem to be pained by the missing, important piece in her life.

It was just an unknown to her. Something she needed an answer for. God above … Lev wished it was that simple for him.

“In heaven,” he settled on saying. “Remember when we talked about that at the church fair?”

Not that he wanted to have that conversation last summer when they were only supposed to be enjoying the day provided to neighborhood kids by a Catholic church they sometimes attended. The nun who asked where Arely’s mom was didn’t get the hint to quit asking until Lev outright said the woman was in a grave.

That led to a whole conversation with his kid because she really didn’t understand what dead meant. It was that point when he also realized Arely had never known she was missing something in her life until someone else pointed it out.

“Well, yeah,” Arely said, shaking her head with a small smile starting to form on her sweet face. “I know but … Mackenna has two daddies, right?”

Lev’s brow lifted on its own accord at that statement because even he—forever a statue, unfeeling and unbothered in the worst of circumstances—wasn’t quite sure what to make of that statement from his five-year-old. Where was she going to go with this conversation next? Because he didn’t know how to tell her, but there wouldn’t be two dads in this house—Lev just didn’t swing that way; more power to the people who did.

“She does have two dads,” he replied, “but you won’t.”

“Why?”

Oh, God.

“Are we reading about ducks or are we—”

“If Mackenna can have two daddies,” his daughter interjected, as serious as ever while she rolled over to her stomach in the bed and propped her chin in her palms, “then how come I can’t even have one mommy?”

Kids, man.

They really did say the craziest shit.

“You did have a mom,” Lev said, folding the book closed and setting it on his lap. If they were going to talk about this, then he figured it was better to give Arely his full attention instead of just trying to distract her with another topic altogether. “Her name was Dawn Marks, and no matter where she is right now, she will always be your mother.”

“Like my name, right?”

Lev grinned and palmed the top of his daughter’s curly head with his hand. “Right, just like your name—Arely Dawn Marks.”

“Arsov.”

Yep.

Marks-Arsov, actually. He had it added with the hyphen as soon as he could and didn’t regret it for a single second.