Page 9 of Wrong Number, Right Single Dad
She’s not calling to flirt. She’s calling because she’s with my daughter. And we agreed—she’d only call in an emergency.
And she’s still in my phone as “Baby” because I’d never planned on her becoming anything else.
“Fuck.” Heart thundering in my ears, my fingers shake as I answer. “What’s wrong? Is everything okay?”
“No.” Delaney sobs, my heart stops as her flushed face and wild hair fill the screen.
She’s gorgeous. Stunning. For a moment, I almost forget why she’s calling.
“Everything is most definitely not okay.”
“What happened?” It takes all my willpower not to lose control. “Did Hannah try to slide down the banister to the basement again?”
“What?” Delaney sniffles. “Is that something she does?”
“Once.” And, once was one time more than it needed to happen. Thank God she’d walked away from the encounter with a bruised funny bone and no stitches. “Did she eat something that made her sick?”
“Hannah is fine. Or, at least she is for the moment.”
My brow furrows at her cryptic response, even as the fear inside me ebbs. “If Hannah is fine, then what the hell is the problem?”
“It’s Mr. Gold.” Her voice breaks. “He’s dead.”
“Oh.”
“Oh? OH? Hannah’s beloved pet goldfish is dead, and all you have to say is ‘Oh’?”
“Sometimes goldfish die,” I say gently.
“But—”
“And, what Hannah doesn’t realize is that this Mr. Gold isn’t her first Mr. Gold.”
There’s a long pause on the other end of the line. “Are you saying… Mr. Gold is—was—an imposter?”
“I’m saying Mr. Gold comes from a long line of goldfish who, sadly, weren’t around for a long time but a good time.”
She sucks in a breath. “Are you saying…”
“That I’ve had to swap out two other goldfish,” I finish. “That’s an affirmative.”
“Oh. Aren’t you a little concerned they keep dying?”
“Well, yeah.” Especially because we’ve had several conversations about how she needs to stop overfeeding and petting her pet. “But I’m even more concerned about breaking Hannah’s heart. She loves those damn fish.”
“Have you considered getting her a pet that’s a little more hearty? Like maybe a hedgehog.”
“Oh brother.” I roll my eyes. “Has she been going over her pet wish list with you too?”
“Your daughter has a lot of love to give. And she really seems to want to give it to animals.”
“I know she does.” I rub my hand over my heart, where a familiar dull ache settles. “I know she misses her mom.”
“Poor girl.” Delaney hesitates. “Is her mom not in the picture then?”
“Not so much as a phone call or postcard in five years.” I run my fingers through my hair and let my hand fall to the side. “We got pregnant after only dating for a couple of months. We talked about what to do and got married. Before Hannah was one, she decided she didn’t want this life. Marriage. Kids. So she packed her bags and moved across the country for a new job.”
“And she doesn’t keep in touch.”
