Page 83 of Tell Me Again
“We played dress up,” she answered. “She had me take pictures so she could show you.”
“Do you know what happens if she posts the photos to social media?”
“Her friends get jealous?”
“She’s out there,” he argued. “It exposes her relationship to you.”
An emotion close to disappointment flashed in Sam’s eyes. “And that’s a bad thing?” she asked, her voice carefully neutral.
“This is not about you,” he answered.
The ghost of a smile fluttered at the corner of her mouth. “It isn’t about Grace, either.”
“What the—”
“Those pictures,” she said, walking forward until she was toe to toe with him, “are about a girl on the cusp of becoming a woman. She’s finding her place in the world. Part of that is discovering how she feels about herself and the way she looks. There’s nothing wrong with it, Trevor. Plenty of famous people have beautiful children, and Grace is my niece.” He watched her chest rise and fall as if she was struggling to maintain control. “Not my daughter,” she said quietly. “As much as I would like it to be different.” She lifted her hand and touched his cheek. “For so many reasons.”
“I wish that, too.” The words felt like a confession, a secret only to be shared because he needed absolution from the tangled mess he’d made of all of their lives.
“Grace and I talked about the photos before I agreed to take them. She promised not to share them with her friends.” Her thumb grazed the scruff of his jaw, and he couldn’t stop himself from leaning into her softness. “She really wanted to show you, Trevor. She wants your approval so badly.”
He shook his head. “I can’t... damn it, thisisabout me.”
She nodded gently.
“It’s about me being the father who can’t let his daughter grow up. I’m holding on so tight that I’m going to end up pushing her away if I don’t stop.”
“You’re catching on. She’s young right now, but not as young as she once was, and it’s changing every day. She’s changing.”
“I’m not ready.”
“Ready or not, buddy.”
“What do I do?” he asked, lifting his hand to cover hers. “How do I protect her without pissing her off?”
“I don’t think that’s possible with a teenage girl, but a good starting place is for you to stop shutting her down. She’s too young to choose a career, but at least talk to her. Ask her why she wants it and explain your concerns. It’s a lot easier to keep the lines of communication open than to start over once those doors slam shut.”
“You’re going to make a good counselor.”
As soon as he spoke the words, she moved back a step, pulling her hand against her side as if it had been burned.
“You don’t have to say that.”
“It’s the truth.”
“Yeah, well...”
“You suck at taking a compliment, Samantha Carlton.”
She opened her mouth and then shut it again. “Thank you,” she muttered.
He heard a crash from inside the room where Grace had disappeared and eyed the closed door. “What is that place?”
She arched a brow. “My closet.”
“Holy Mother of...” He grimaced. “I’m going in and I’m going to talk clothes and makeup and... other stuff.”
“Just listen to her,” Sam answered, giving him a push toward the door. “She’s excited enough to do all the talking.”
He nodded and moved forward, ready to take on the world of teenage girls and fashion and whatever else he had to battle to make his daughter happy.
