Page 63 of Pin-up Girl

Me: Keep an eye on your blood pressure.

Dee: K. Love u.

Me: I love you too.

Ticking through a list of what I had to do to make this work would keep me from falling into blind rage. I had to enroll her in school here, and talk to her friends’ parents about making sure she had a place to go after school while I was working.

The fridge would need to be stocked, but not until closer to her being here.

The planning didn’t take as long as I hoped, and I was fuming again. About Regina leaving her daughter behind, and where she was heading to do so.

Someone knocked on the front door, and I was still in a haze of anger as I answered.

Brodie was on my front porch, and he studied me. “You all right?”

“What?” I wasn’t in the mood for company.

He didn’t so much as flinch as he handed me a package. “For Dee. For her dancing.”

Fuck. Another thing to consider. Dee’s dance classes were over an hour away. I was happy to do it for her, but my schedule was falling apart. I shoved aside the gray cloud in my mind. “Thanks. What do I need to know about how it works?”

“Do you have a few minutes and I’ll show you?”

I stepped aside. “Yeah. Come on in.”

Brodie unpacked everything, setting three shirts on the coffee table, then a small box with pictures of metal disks next to that.

I grabbed one of the shirts, to examine it. It was Dee-sized and lightweight.

“It’s meant to be form-fitting, but not so tight that it’s uncomfortable,” Brodie said. “It needs to make as much contact with the skin as possible. As she grows, let me know and I’ll have more…” he frowned. “More made.”

I wasn’t the only one having an off morning. Interesting. Or maybe he’d realized he was committing to staying in touch. “Are you sure about that?”

“Yeah.” The strength was back in Brodie’s voice. “I was fired this morning, but I still have contacts and I’m still a shareholder.”

“Jesus. I’m sorry.” And in a twisted way, grateful for someone else’s problems to distract me from my own.

“Thanks. I don’t think I am though.”

His reply didn’t make sense.

“What?” I asked.

“Maddox already gave me the third degree this morning. Not in the mood.” His voice was abruptly short.

Brodie pulled a metal disc from the box. It was shiny and smooth on one side and had a small indentation on the other, like a snap. “This attaches to the shirt, and presses against the inside of her arm here.” He indicated a spot on the upper inside of his elbow. “It can go on the neck or ankle too, but here it’s least intrusive.” He snapped the disc to the inside of the sleeve of one of the tops.

“They’re stainless steel, so wipe them down with alcohol if they get dirty. They’re easy to replace if you lose all of them.”

I wanted to ask about his job, but I’d exhausted myself before he got here, and Brodie obviously wasn’t in the mood to talk. “Does it rely on the pulse or a major artery?” I asked instead. “The disk, I mean.”

“No. The entire shirt monitors what’s going on. That’s why full contact is important.”

“Then why…?”

Brodie let out a sigh-growl. “Because someone in marketing decided those were the places people expected connectors to be, and someone else decided to put them there. You could really attach them anywhere. I always thought the upper back of the shoulder made the most sense.”

“If these are for Dee, we can move hers, can’t we? Aubrey can help.” I was grateful for the chance to be solving some sort of problem.

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