Page 64 of Worth the Vow

“She means Wicked.”

“I’m still not following.”

“Jeez, Daddy, you’re so boring,” Aspen says with an exaggerated eye roll again. “It’s about a green witch and a white witch. Everybody thinks the green witch is bad cuz she’s green. But she’s not! She’s just sunderstood.”

“Misunderstood,” Kate and I reply simultaneously.

“That’s what I said!” Aspen scoffs. “Then they both like this guy, but he likes the green witch. Then there’s monkeys and somebody melts.”

“So …” I start, then slam my mouth shut.

“It’s a musical based on The Wizard of Oz,” Kate supplies.

“Has she seen the movie?” I ask.

“Wicked doesn’t have a movie out right now.”

“I meant The Wizard of Oz.”

“Uh, yes. We all watched it,” Kate answers nervously.

“That seems a little too mature for her age, Katharine,” I state. “Besides, where was I? None of them ever told me they watched the movie.”

“You were at work,” Kate snaps, ripping her hand from mine. “And the movie has a G rating. I looked it up to be sure. None of them were frightened because they understood it’s make-believe, Dominic. It sure would be nice if you’d trust me to do anything with them. Maybe you should let me do my job and stop helicoptering every decision I make.”

“Yeah, Daddy,” Aspen shouts. “I liked the movie, and the music is amazing. Don’t get mad at Katie. Sienna was the one who started us on watching the music movies anyway.”

“Musicals,” Kate and I again respond together.

“Whatever,” Aspen mutters.

Kate stands, her arms crossed, looking like a pissed off fairy. She added blue streaks to her hair this week, but some purple still shows through from her previous dye job. A glittery bracelet adorns her left wrist, which makes me stare at her hand. The basic wedding band I purchased, almost as an afterthought, is glaringly opposite to her personality and style. I thought briefly of buying her an engagement ring, but a diamond doesn’t seem right either. Kate would need a stone of color. Pizzazz. Spice. She’s not cookie-cutter by any means, and her ring should reflect that.

“I’m sorry,” I state.

“What?” Kate shrieks. “Shit, that was loud. Sorry. But did you just say you’re sorry? For what?”

“You act as if I can’t apologize,” I respond wryly.

“In the two years I’ve been nannying for you, I don’t think you’ve apologized to me once.”

“Surely that’s incorrect,” I say. There’s no way. I had to have apologized for something.

“Are you seriously trying to remember any apologies at all?” she asks, her voice dripping with thinly veiled anger.

“No, not exactly. I was thinking back to when my most recent apology would have been, but I can’t remember … any,” I finally finish. Kate looks momentarily victorious before her expression drops. Fucking hell. Am I really this awful to everyone in my life? “I’m sorry, Katharine. I didn’t realize how that must feel for you. For everyone, actually.”

“You should be nicer to all of us, Daddy,” Aspen comments.

“I should,” I reply, my mind whirling. “I knew I was strict and expected a lot out of people, but I didn’t realize I never owned up to my own mistakes. I’ll admit that I sometimes goad you into arguments when I know you’re right, because I really love how your eyes change colors when you feel challenged by me. I didn’t realize I’ve never admitted to being wrong after the fact.”

Kate sits next to me on the bed, precariously perched on the edge as her hand again covers mine. “Sometimes I can tell when you’re feeling guilty about it, or you know you’re wrong. Not all the time, though. But I get it. It’s not like you completely think you’re right all the time.”

I turn to grab her hand tightly, needing the connection. “I’m trying. I’ve been working with a therapist —”

“You’re seeing a therapist?” Kate screeches, then slaps her other hand over her mouth. “Sorry. I didn’t know that, Dominic. That’s so great!”

“Really?” I ask. “I haven’t told anyone. I figured it would be emasculating or something. Men are supposed to hold all of their emotions in, but sometimes my anxiety gets the best of me, and it boils over.”

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