AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“What?” I coughed into my hand, trying to clear my dry-as-fuck mouth. “What’s me?”
The little girl’s mouth flattened into a thin line, and she used a tiny index finger to point at me. “You’re my dad,” she announced plainly.
My heart hammered in my chest as I replayed her words. Was I being pranked right now? I stared at her face, trying to place where I’d seen her before. Was she one of my buddies’ kids and she was in on the joke? But her face remained completely stoic. No little kid could act that well… could they?
She pulled out little kid scissors and a plastic baggie from her pocket.
“Bend down, please,” she announced authoritatively.
I sat there blinking at her in a daze, but did as she told, my knees cracking as I made it down to her eye-level.
I couldn’t take my eyes off her face and didn’t even acknowledge when she reached around my head and used the little kid scissors. The sound of the blades grinding through my hair snapped me to attention. But it was too late. The little girl held a chunk of my hair in her little hand, and she stuffed it in the baggy. In a daze, I reached around and felt the missing chunk.
“What the ever-loving f-” I cut myself off at the last second. “Why’d you do that?”
Her tongue stuck out the side of her mouth as she carefully closed up the Ziplock bag. “DNA.”
My eyes widened. “And you had to take a whole chunk?”
Her little shoulders shrugged. “Sorry, guess that’s show biz, baby,” she muttered to me, making a weird sense of deja-vu creep up my spine.
The little girl turned on her heel and marched away like her little appearance didn’t just slash me down at the knees.
“Wait, wait, come back here,” I demanded, following her out the door. My head pounded with every step, and I momentarily wondered if I was hallucinating.
I actually laughed aloud, but the little girl’s serious face sobered me right up.
“Wait, you’re actually serious?” I asked.
“Yes?” She side-eyed me like I was losing my damn mind.
A tidal wave of questions crashed into my brain. “Where’s your mom? How old are you? How did you even get in here?”
She pursed her lips. “Look,maybeyou’re not my dad.” She squinted up at me. “But I’m pretty sure you are because I’ve been looking and–”
I squeezed my eyes shut. “Wait, rewind. What’syourname?”
She sucked in her lips and held them there for a second, like she was weighing whether or not to give me the information. Her shoulders lifted with a little breath. “Stephanie Tyler Haley,” she announced, sticking her hand out for a handshake. “But I go by Stevie.”
I stumbled back. My eyes widened at her tiny outstretched hand. Because suddenly I was staring at Fiona’s bright blue eyes, Fiona’s cute, upturned nose. But… she didn’t have Fiona’s natural blonde hair, she had the same light brown colorIhad as a kid, and she didn’t have Fiona’s pale skin, she hadmyolive complexion.
“Stevie…” I breathed out. “Stevie Nicks… Tyler… Oh my….” The words strangled in my throat. My heart pounded so hard I could hear my pulse thumping in my ears. Her middle name… She was named after…me?
Stevie cocked her head to the side. “Yeah,” she drawled, “you’re my dad. Sorry about your hair.” She shrugged. “Probably don’t even need this.” It seemed she decided I was it for her, because her shoulders looked way more relaxed now. She snorted and rolled back on her heels. “Boy, am I glad the other ones didn’t know about Stevie Nicks. Kinda losers to be honest.” Her little face scrunched up. “What was my mom thinking? Seriously.” She let her arms fall down at her sides. “Lost a full five dollar bet though. My mom’s friend is helping me, and she said it was definitely you and that I shouldn’t even bother the other t-”
“Wait,” I shut my eyes tight, trying to think through my now splinting headache. “Which friend?”
“A-”
“-drienne,” I finished, opening my eyes. My nose flared with an angry breath. “Where is she?” I demanded.
The little girl’s mouth buttoned up and she ushered me to follow her into the elevator.
“No,” I pulled her jacket back. I didn’t want her getting on that elevator; it suddenly seemed like a death trap. “Stairs,” I nodded to the stairwell.
I watched her skip down the steps in front of me, like this was a completely normal interaction for her. I wanted to fire off a million questions, but I also didn’t want my anger to unfold in front of her. No, I had to focus on keeping it together, even though what I really wanted was to scream at her mother for answers…Why hadn’t she told me? When did this happen? How could this have happened without me knowing?
One question needed to be asked for confirmation though. “Stevie, how old are you? When’s your birthday?”
