I’m annoyed, but I still don’t glance back at her. Shaking my head, I pull my shirt on and make my way across the bedroom, easing the door open and slipping out.
Old instincts compel me to do a sweep, ever vigilant, so my eyes go straight to the line of light beneath the bathroom door. I pause and glance back at the bedroom. Maybe I should step back inside. Can’t be her husband; she had no problem letting me fall asleep in her bed, so she couldn’t have been worried he’d come home. Unless she wanted to get caught. Maybe I was a pawn in some marital tiff. That would be mightily fucking inconvenient. I don’t especially feel like fighting anyone today, and if I did, it damn sure wouldn’t be over this woman.
Before I can make a decision, the door opens. A blond-haired little girl comes out of the bathroom. She’s wearing cupcake pajamas. She stops when she sees me standing in the hall, her little blue eyes widening. Almost immediately her surprise is replaced with confused disapproval as she furrows her little brow at me, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.
“Who are you?”
Well, shit.
“Tooth fairy,” I finally say.
Her suspicion clears, replaced with a tentative eagerness. “You’re the tooth fairy? I thought the tooth fairy was a girl.”
“Yeah, well, we’re modernizing. Are you the one who lost a tooth?”
Her tiny hand comes up to her mouth. “No, I didn’t lose a tooth. I think one is gonna be wiggling soon, though. My mom read me a book about the tooth fairy.”
I nod, reaching into my pocket and drawing out my phone. I make a show of tapping the screen. “No teeth lost. Got it. I’ll update the records.”
“I didn’t think the tooth fairy had a cell phone,” she tells me, looking me over. “I don’t think that’s how you should dress, either. There should be more sparkle.”
“Well, I’m still in training. I’m sure I’ll have something snazzier once I’m a full-blown tooth fairy.”
She nods like this makes sense.
I nod, glancing at the end of the hall. “All right, well, you should probably get back to bed,” I tell her.
“You probably have more houses to visit, huh?”
“Yep.”
She nods, offering me a big smile. “I can’t believe I met the tooth fairy.”
I don’t really know how to play this. I’m tempted to tell her she probably shouldn’t mention it to anyone, but I’m not sure it’s a great idea for a strange man to advise a little girl to keep secrets. It’s also not my responsibility to cover up her mom’s infidelity.
This whole situation reminds me of Mia. This blond-haired, blue-eyed little girl could easily be her daughter. Mia could easily be the mom reading her stories about tooth fairies. I could even be the stupid asshole in the picture with her, grinning like a brainless sap on our wedding day. I used to think if I could just drag her away from Mateo, Mia could be faithful, but then I brought her to Vegas and Rafe swooped in. A complete fucking stranger, no twisted hold on her, and still she pulled her shit. I could’ve never trusted her to stay faithful.
I could be the absent asshole out there somewhere whose wife is fucking someone else at home while our kid sleeps down the hall.
Now I’m feeling surly as hell, so I’m done talking to this kid. As I walk past, I ruffle her hair.
“Hey,” she says, like she’s offended, but she’s smiling at me like a playmate.
“Get to bed,” I tell her amiably over my shoulder.
I guess she does. Maybe not. Whatever happens in this house after I leave, I don’t need to know; I’ll never step foot inside it again.
I slip out the front door and head to my car. I’m parked in her driveway for all the world to see. Across the street, a woman stares at me, robe clutched around her body, holding a newspaper in her hand. Well, she’s probably not gonna believe I’m the tooth fairy.
Oh well.
—
Despite the early hour, when I get back to my apartment complex, old man Gus is outside in his turquoise plastic chair, his cane propped up against the chipped white railing. He’s drinking his coffee and chatting up the new neighbor girl. I’ve seen her around, but I haven’t bothered saying hi. Now she’s chatting up Gus, leaning against the white exterior of our apartments. She looks cold, hugging herself. She might not be so cold if she wore a coat, but she’s just wearing a thin pair of black leggings and a too-big gray sweater that falls off her shoulder. Her dirty blonde hair is pulled up in a cute-messy way on top of her head.
“Looks like Vince is already having a good morning,” Gus remarks, grinning big and winking at me.