Page 72 of Pin-up Girl

“Yay. Love you, Dad.”

“Love you too, Dee.”

When I reached Regina’s house that evening, she greeted me with the same cool politeness she always wore in front of Dee.

On the other hand, Dee gave me a huge hug, and wore a smile that was pure sugar. “Hi, Daddy. I missed you.”

That was sweet.

I handed her a gift bag. “I brought you a present. This will make it so you can keep an eye on your heart and other vital signs, and still dance.”

“Really?” Dee yanked everything from the bag. When she held up one of the shirts, her smile wavered. “How does it work?”

“The threads in the shirt help monitor what’s going on, and the electronics send that information to your phone.”

“She can’t do ballet in that.” Derision leaked from Regina’s words.

I kept my attention on Dee, rather than argue. “You can practice in this. It’s made to not get in the way.”

“Do you even remember what it’s like to dance?” Regina asked.

My irritation surged, and I swallowed it.

Dee stepped between us and gave me another hug. “Daddy, I love it. Thank you. Mommy, can we get dinner at that place downtown with the really good salads?”

Dee shifted away from calling us Mommy and Daddy years ago, because it was childish. And she had never once asked me if we could eat at the place in question.

In addition, I didn’t know if I could be trapped with Regina in a restaurant for the length of a full meal, especially if I had to pretend she wasn’t leaving Dee behind to move to California. “How about we order in, and eat on the back deck?”

“How about we order in and eat in the dining room?” Regina countered.

I was surprised she gave me any concession at all, and I didn’t care where we ate, as long as I had an easy way to walk away for a few minutes if I needed. “Dee?”

“Okay.” Her voice was like sunshine, and her smile looked fake.

Regina placed our order, and I was relieved to hear that even though Dee got a salad, it was one with pasta and chicken. I ordered the one burger on the menu, rare, mostly to see Regina wrinkle her nose in disgust.

While we were waiting, Dee asked a string of questions about how Regina and I met and fell in love.

Both of us gave Dee basic answers.

When the food showed up, she set the table without being asked, and sat me next to Regina. Dee ate with a knife and fork, she said please or thank you after every sentence, and continued to ask about what things were like with Regina and me, before Dee was born.

I’d seen this tactic before. She fell into this same pattern when Regina and I got divorced. I’d spent a long time helping Dee understand my breaking up with her mom wasn’t her fault, and I thought we’d moved past this.

Why was she reverting? “Tell me what you did at Lagoon,” I said. “What was your favorite ride?”

“She’s tall enough to get on some of the adult ones now.” If Regina was chiming in, she saw the same thing I did.

“I went through the horror house,” Dee said. “I bet it’s fun if you have someone to be scared with. Mommy, did you ever do that with Daddy?”

“Dee went on the flying carpet ride twice.” Regina eyed my fries.

She was resisting the urge to stress eat. That was how bad this was getting.

Dee made a show of eating a bite of food, and chewing slowly, before swallowing. She dabbed her mouth with a napkin. “They had a place that sold milkshakes with one heart straw for two people. We should go back, all three of us, so you can go there together. Did you ever do that when you were dating?”

“Why do you want to hear these stories now, Dee?” I couldn’t do any more of this.

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