Page 4 of Secret Love

She’s usually trying to grow up way too fast and sounds like a teenager most of the time, but now, she sounds like my little girl. The one that used to run and jump into my arms every time I got home, yelling,“Daddy!”like I was the best dad ever.

“Why not?”

“Mrs. Carboni hates me. She’s so mean. She says I’m wasting her time.”

“What? Why would she say that?”

She swallows hard. “I didn’t turn in my project.”

I gape at her. “Mrs. Carboni is yourEnglishteacher, right? You’re talking about the project you worked on all last week?”

She nods, and a few more tears drip from her brown eyes that are just like mine. I can hardly take it. I put my arm around her, holding her as she sobs, just as Gracie yells up the stairs, “Audrey says we’re going to be late if we don’t leave now!”

“We’ll be right there,” I call back. “Cassidy, I don’t understand why you didn’t turn it in. I looked over that project. Your mom did too. It was good work.”

She doesn’t say anything and I hand her a tissue from her bedside table. She wipes her face and nose and takes another shaky breath.

“I’ll have a talk with her, okay? But you need to turn your project in. Turn it in today and I’ll call and set something up.”

She shakes her head and says in a much lighter tone, “It’s okay, Dad. I’ll be okay. You don’t need to talk to her. I was just having a freak-out. I feel better now.”

I frown. The mental whiplash is too much for me this early in the morning. I’m much better at getting whiplash on the field than I am with the mental gymnastics my girls put me through every day.

“You’ll turn in your project?” I ask.

She nods and even musters a grin.

“Okay?” I say, reluctantly.

“We should really get going, Dad. Mom will be so annoyed with you if you make us late.”

I stand and stare after her as she hurries out of the room.

“I’m not the one making you late,” I call.

She pokes her head back in the door and I see the mischief in her eyes.

“Hurry up,” she mouths.

“Trying my patience this morning,” I say, shaking my head.

She grins then and I’m happy to see that smile on my girl’s face.

We hustle down the stairs.

“Let’s go, kiddos.” I grab the keys and help Gracie with her backpack. The girls start thumb wars to see who gets the front seat in the Suburban. Audrey wins today, causing a new round of complaints.

I have the cure. No matter how much they argue, when I turn on Taylor Swift, they start singing “Cruel Summer” at the top of their lungs, and all is well.

I drop them off and drive to the gym, still humming to Taylor.

Damn, my daughters keep me hopping.

It felt good to have that small interaction with that woman at the store. Really good. The way she looked me over makes me think I’ve still got it.

I wonder what she’d think if she knew how chaotic my life is.

Too bad I’ll never find out.

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