“Oh.” Hadley is disappointed but now sits on the floor and hugs the dog.
My eyes draw a line from my daughter to April who still hasn’t moved, including the spatula in mid-air. “I have no idea what is happening,” April admits one-toned in a daze.
I look at my mom, and my face must show that I’m struggling to come up with words. She affectionately touches my shoulder. “Maybe I should give you two a minute before I head out?”
Blowing out a long breath, I turn my focus to April.
“Who's April?” Hadley asks as she somehow managed to get Pickles to lie on his back with his paws in the air.
“A friend,” I say.
“What’s going on? In no world am I your friend,” April mumbles, as she can’t seem to tear her eyes away from Hadley.
My mother chuckles softly. “I like her.”
“I’m Hadley. My daddy lives here,” Hadley announces, and I’m not sure if it’s from pride or because even for her age she isn’t afraid to be bold.
April nearly chokes before her jaw drops, and her head makes a sharp turn in my direction.
“Can I see you for a minute?” I request nervously.
April quickly turns the stove off where she was making something that resembles pancakes and follows me down the hall to the laundry room.
The moment we step through the open doorway, her eyes bug out at me. “What the hell? Daughter? You don’t have a daughter. There is nothing in this house to suggest that you, Spencer Crews, are a father, let alone to a little girl in a pink tutu.”
I grab her arm. “Well,April. Iama father.”
“This doesn’t make sense. She just like,poof,magically appeared.” April’s hands make gestures to accompany her words. “Not one single clue in this house screams that you are rocking the dad bod,” she reminds me again.
My eyes squinch together, and I nearly groan because I’m already tired of this conversation. Pulling her by the arm, I walk us across the hall to the other door.
“Why are you taking me to a closet?” April protests.
“It isn’t a closet.”
“Yes, it is—” I open the door for her, holding it open with purpose while she peeks her head in. “Oh.” Her voice drops.
April takes in her surroundings, a room filled with toys. A playhouse in one corner, a wall with different levels of shelves filled with books and puzzles, a pink rug in the middle, and a dreamcatcher stenciled on the wall.
“Yeah,oh. Not my fault if you don’t take in your surroundings.”
April shoots me a glare. “Snooping around was going to happen today. I’ve not even been here 24 hours, and I got sidetracked yesterday for many reasons… as you know.” Her tone is sharp, and her hip is tipped out. “Besides, it looks like a closet door.”
“Doesn’t matter. Hadley is here now and will be staying. I thought she was going to arrive next week.”
“When were you going to tell me this important information?”
I rest my hands behind my head as I stretch. “When the moment was right.”
April seems at a loss of words. “H-how come you never talk about her?”
“I’m protective.”
“Still, at some point in the last few years of knowing you, then surely she would have come up in conversation.” April seems to be in disbelief, and I get it. Hadley is my best-kept secret.
“Can I get into the details another time? Preferably when alcohol is involved?” Because the story isn’t easy, nor what she probably assumes.
April nods her head in agreement. “Fine.” She points her finger at me. “Any more surprises you have in store for me? Or are we done on that front?” She doesn’t seem impressed, which is understandable since I keep throwing grenades at her lately.
