Page 38 of Wild Hit
There’s something weird in her voice, like she’s trying to make light of something that really isn’t. Usually when people do this, they’re torn between wanting to share and not being pried into. And if dealing with a certain Logan Kim has taught meanything, it’s that the best course of action is to wait until they’re ready to share.
I play along by turning to Marty. “Is my bribe working? Am I your fave dad at last?”
“You’re my only dad, Dad,” she responds unironically, taking another bite out of the ice cream. How does that not make her teeth hurt? Whoisshe?
“I guess this is the only trophy you win for participation.” Audrey’s lips draw into a wide smile that shares all her pearly whites, and for the first time I notice that her two front teeth are slightly longer than the rest. There’s something so charming about it that I can’t stop staring. “What? Do I have something between my teeth?”
To save face, I point vaguely at her and say, “Yeah, a little something—there. You got it.” The only thing she got is my full attention, damn it.
So, it turns out this attraction wasn’t a sudden one-off the other night. Iama red-blooded straight guy who is into this woman. But the sky is blue and the grass is green—who wouldn’t be into her?
She’s smart—enough to teach my daughter math. She’s kind—also enough to agree to this absurd plan, just so my daughter can hold her head high at school. And she’s gorgeous. We’re talking head-turning, double-take-inducing type of gorgeous. The guy behind the counter can’t stop staring, and a woman who came in earlier also ogled Audrey like she was seeing a celebrity. My presence and Marty’s hasn’t deterred attention, because we’re obviously not a real family and it shows, even though we’re about to start faking it.
“Anyway,” I announce, remembering the point of this little gathering. “Now that Marty will be able to attend the tea party, we have to get serious about how this is going to work. I’m allears for your ideas, ladies.” I lean back on my chair, folding my arms and glancing at them to pass on the figurative microphone.
Marty looks at Audrey. “Should I start calling you Mom?”
The blonde chokes on her ice cream.
I snort, but still reach for the napkins on the table to pass her one out of the goodness of my heart.
“Well, how else are my classmates going to think I’m normal?” my kid asks, missing the giant sized irony of her statement. It dries my amusement up and the balloon of guilt that permanently resides in my chest swells up again. It had been quite deflated while I basked in my success this afternoon.
“Normal is overrated,” Audrey says in between coughs into the napkin. She wipes her mouth and reaches for my water bottle. I let her, clearly she needs it more than I do. “But maybe let’s keep that for when we’re in front of other people, okay?”
“Fine.”
Audrey turns to me. “I have a ring that is going to work perfectly for the ruse.”
“A ring…” I trail off, my mind gunning it at full speed like I’m trying to score on a wild hit that has low chance of success, just to reach her point. “You mean an engagement ring.”
“Yes.” She motions at her left hand. “It’s a gold band with a green sapphire. No one needs to know it’s part of a jewelry set that my brother gave me for Christmas once.”
“You have a brother?” Marty wonders. “Should we get him on board with the plan?”
Audrey’s lips twitch but don’t form a full smile. “He would’ve been so on board.”
Before I can form an apology in my mouth, my daughter continues like nothing’s amiss. “And there’s one more thing.”
“What’s that?” Audrey asks absentmindedly as she takes another lick of ice cream.
I’m displeased to report that my reason decides to make itself absent again thanks to that.
Marty checks out her surroundings, leans closer to her new partner in crime, and lowers her voice. “I heard that the mean girls wear matching outfits with their moms. Can we do that too?”
Audrey smacks the table in mock outrage. “Rather than doing it too, we’re going to do it better. Let’s go shopping!”
*
And this is how I find myself in the middle of a thrift store when normally I’d be training at the Orlando Wild facilities on a day off. I scratch the back of my head, confused but not upset about this turn of events.
Marty pulls out a garment from a rack, showing it to Audrey. “How’s this?”
It reminds me of the goth tutu I once had to wear when one of her loose teeth hurt her so bad that she wouldn’t stop crying, and I didn’t know what else to do to cheer her up but dress up as a too buff, goth tooth fairy.
“Very stylish,” the woman responds as she runs her fingers over the transparent folds of the skirt. They have something shiny on them, some kind of glitter. “I’m thinking this would look great with something pink.”
“Ugh, pink is for girls,” my daughter says like this is a personal affront.
