Page 95 of Pin-up Girl

Aubrey hid her smirk behind her hand.

“You don’t make anyone’s life better by eating carrots when you’d rather be having chocolate cake,” Evie said.

Dee tilted her chin forward to rest on her knees, watching us. “Then why is Regina leaving?”

This didn’t seem like the time to ask why Mom had become Regina.

“It’s not because of anything you did.” Aubrey knelt on the ground next to Dee.

“But how do you know?”

“Because I know you and I know Regina, and I know that you could be the most perfect person in the whole wide world, and she still would have taken this job.”

“Because she’s meant to squirt jelly?” Dee asked.

Evie ducked her head, but not before I saw her face contort with a choked back laugh.

Aubrey managed to keep a straight face. “Something like that.”

Dee’s shoulders sank. “But what if I don’t want to dance?”

“Then don’t.” It was easy to say, and I wished someone had a conversation like this with me when I was her age. Wished someone had said just be you.

Clint used to. So did Aubrey. Not until we were teenagers, but I loved them for it.

“What if I say I don’t want to dance, and Dad leaves me too?” Dee sounded so tiny. So scared.

“He won’t,” I said.

Aubrey rested a hand on Dee’s knee. “I know Brodie said adults can’t make a lot of promises, but that’s one we can make. Your dad will never choose to leave you. If you don’t want to dance—if you want to make robots or design clothes or sing or draw or spend the rest of your life doing math or anything else—he’ll love you and be there for you.”

Dee made a gagging sound. “Math is gross.”

“Math has its place.” Evie sighed.

“Math is so gross.” Aubrey leaned closer to Dee and spoke in a stage whisper.

Evie stuck her tongue out. “And you’re. So. Blond.”

Aubrey grinned. “Yup.”

“Your dad is worried, Dee,” I said. “Because he does love you. Come with us to tell him you’re all right?”

She climbed to her feet as if her limbs weighed a ton. “Okay.”

Aubrey, Dee, and I wished Evie goodbye and Evie promised to tell Kurt and Elaina where we’d gone.

We left Evie behind, and the three of us walked back to Clint’s.

Everything we’d discussed was obvious from the outside. Saying those things to Dee was easy. Logical.

But I’d almost fallen into the same trap a second time. I didn’t want to farm. I didn’t want to sell product. I wanted to keep inventing. Designing without having to surrender what I created.

How was I going to do that, and still share it with the world?

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aubrey

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