Page 11 of Pin-up Girl

If it took a toll on her health, she’d be heartbroken to stop.

Clint sighed. “Like I said, we don’t know much yet. She was doing her thing on Saturday night, and collapsed on stage. We took her to the hospital, and the emergency room people didn’t see anything immediate. Heart problems maybe, but we can’t say for sure.”

“That’s not very helpful.” I didn’t expect it to be—their jobs were to fix emergencies, not to fix everything—but the experience sounded frustrating.

Clint sighed. “Yeah. So we took her to her doc yesterday, and he suspects some sort of cardiomyopathy.” The word rolled off his tongue like it was a part of his standard language. “I spent the rest of yesterday reading up on it, but there are so many possibilities and causes and types… We have to go through a series of tests for a real diagnosis, and to see if this is temporary or long term.”

I didn’t like the sound of long term. I didn’t suspect he did either.

“It could keep her from dancing.” Clint seemed to add the statement as an afterthought.

“That’s horrible.”

“Is it?”

I glanced at him, searching his face for some hint that his question was sarcastic. “What do you mean?”

“Sometimes I worry she’s only doing this to make Regina happy. Through the entire thing, Saturday night and Monday, Dee looked terrified that Regina was going to yell at her. Like this was somehow Dee’s fault or something she’d done on purpose. I tried to talk to her about it on the way home, and she assured me she wants to dance because she likes it.”

But if Dee was worried about disappointing her mom, of course she’d say that. It was a feeling I knew all too well. For years I’d tried so hard to do right by my grandma—the family matriarch—and it was never enough for her. I was never enough.

“This morning Dee was furious at me that I told her the only practice she could do was stretching, no cardio until we had more answers.” Clint’s frustration was audible.

He was one of the big reasons I’d—mostly—moved past my grandmother’s reproachful attitude. Alys and Evie helped a lot too, but Clint seemed to understand the pressure a lot more. “You figured out the right thing to do to help me,” I said. “And if Dee needs the same, you’ll figure it out with her, too.”

“Yeah, but you’re my best friend and she’s my daughter. There’s a difference.”

Fair point. “I could talk to her if you want.”

“No. Rather, I appreciate the offer, but I don’t want us adding to any pressure Regina puts on her, by ganging up on her.”

“So we’ll keep an eye on it together.”

Clint’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah.”

I squeezed his knee. “You can’t have all the answers all the time, but as long as you’re looking for them, you’re doing something right.”

“Maybe.” He let out a heavy exhale. “Did you catch the latest episode of Dance Queens?”

Subject change. I could do that. Especially when it came to our favorite reality tv show—drag queens competing in a dance competition. Fashion. Moves. Music. What wasn’t to love? “I’m an episode behind. No spoilers.”

“The Swan Lake episode?” Clint wrinkled his nose. “I can’t believe they went so cliché on the ballet, but what they did to Gemma was the worst.”

“Ugh. Exactly. Telling her she was too creative? What the fuck is be yourself, but not too much of it?” Beside something I’d gotten tired of hearing a long time ago.

“Her performance was awesome. Jazzing it up? Perfect solution.”

“But this is a classic. This is grace and elegance,” I mimicked one of the judges. “Dude, it’s a reimagining. There are a lot of ways to honor the classics.”

“Besides, that costume made her ass look incredible.”

I huffed and glared at Clint.

He shrugged. “You were looking too.”

“I was checking out the costume.”

“Uh-huh.” He didn’t believe me.

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