Page 64 of Promise Me Sunshine

“Yes,” I say. “You should.”

“Me?” He’s aghast. “No, no. You know I’d fuck that up. You go in there and put on a wig and make her laugh or something. I’ll come in later.”

“I’m sorry,” Ainsley says in a little voice from the doorway of the kitchen. “I didn’t think it would leave a mark.”

We both turn to her. She’s scrubbing at her eyes and swimming in her T-shirt. She looks bite-sized and miserable.

“Did you hear what we were saying?” I ask her.

She nods.

“Did we guess right about the dance?”

She nods again and then breaks into tears. I rush to her and she lets me pick her up. I hold her close.

“Was there something you were particularly excited about?”

She gulps and talks through her tears. “There’s this thing where you dance with your grown-up and it’ll be so”—her voice breaks—“embarrassingif I don’t have a grown-up with me.”

“Ohhhh. Like a father/daughter dance?” I ask.

She shrugs. “I guess. They don’t call it that, though. It doesn’t have to be a father.”

“Right. Of course.” I clear my throat. “It just has to be a grown-up in your life?”

She nods. “I really wanted it to be Mom.”

I kick backward, trying to make contact with Miles. I kick air. So I slowly tilt my body while still hugging Ainsley and bring him into my eyeline.

I make meaningful eyes at him, but he shakes his head.

Do it!I mouth.

No dancing!he mouths back.

I don’t care. If you don’t offer to dance with this little girl I’m going to kick your ass!I mouth back to him. I’m not sure hegot any of it except for thekick your asspart because he sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose, and shoves his hands in his pockets.

“Ains…”

She lifts her head from my shoulder and looks at him.

“I’ll do it with you,” he says.

She sits up straight in my arms and frowns. “Oh.”

He clears his throat. “I know it’s not the same as having your mom do it. But…I’m your uncle. I…could do it. And, ah, it sounds cool. I’m sure it’ll be fun.”

She looks at me and then at him. “Really?”

“Sure,” he says with a shrug.

She purses her lips and looks him up and down. “Do you even know how to dance?”

“Ainsley!” I can’t help but burst out laughing. “I think you meant to say ‘Thank you, Miles.’ ”

She slides down from my arms and walks over to him. “Thank you. Do you know how to dance?”

“I’m rusty,” he admits.

---