“The one Mommy and I are staying at for our adventure. Why aren’t you on the adventure with us?” A little wrinkle appeared between her eyebrows… just like her mother.

Kudos to Blaire for pretending a bad situation was “an adventure” so she didn’t have to tell Carrie what a shithead her father was. She was such an awesome mom. “I couldn’t remember which hotel it was,” I said, putting on my saddest face.

She giggled. “Silly Daddy. It’s the Mary hotel.”

“The Mary?” I had no idea what she was talking about.

“Yeah, the Mary something. I don’t remember her last name.”

Mary… Mary… Mary Hotel?

As soon as we got home and I got Carrie in bed, I Googled the Mary Hotel in Dallas, but nothing came up. Dammit! I thought I was getting somewhere.

Lying in bed later, I was overcome with desolation. I hated being here in this bed alone, so I went into Carrie’s room and lifted her into my arms. “Wass wrong, Daddy?” she mumbled sleepily.

“I thought you might want to sleep with me tonight, baby girl.”

“’Kay,” she said as I settled her into my bed and cuddled against her curved back, pulling the covers up over her shoulder. “This pillow smells like Mommy,” she murmured just before she drifted off to sleep.

“Yes, it does, baby,” I whispered sadly into the darkness.

Carrie woke me up the next morning by pouncing on my head. I laughed and grabbed her little body, tossing her up and catching her until she begged me to stop. “What do you want for breakfast,” I asked her as we headed downstairs.

“Pancakes!” she yelled, so I made pancakes.

We had a fun day together, going back to the park to feed the ducks, eating peanut butter and banana sandwiches, and playing with her toys. I even let her “fix” my hair.

As Carrie was adding the last of about thirty bows to my hair, she shouted, “Ott!”

“What?”

“Ott. That’s Mary’s last name.” I was lost.

“Who’s Mary?”

“Mary Ott, from the hotel,” she explained.

Ohhhh. BINGO!

“Care, are you talking about the Marriott Hotel?” I asked, my excitement growing.

“That’s what I said, Daddy.” Her eye-rolling game was on point. “The Mary Ott Hotel. It’s nice.”

My heart was pounding so hard that I was afraid I might be going into cardiac arrest, but I kept my voice casual. “That’s cool. Do you remember which room?”

“Ummmm, it’s something fifteen. I remember because fifteen is my birthday.”

Something fifteen at the Marriott. It wasn’t exact, but it was the most I’ve had to go on so far. I had tried getting more information out of Beau, but that dude was a fucking vault.