Page 124 of DadBod

ELIZABETH

“You are not wearing that.”

Looking down at myself, I shrug. “It’s the only one I’ve got.”

“It’s all stretched out. I swear, I can see through it.”

Oh. That’s not good. “You can?”

“Especially on your butt.”

“It’s old.”

“Duh.”

Ryann goes to her luggage and pulls out something small and black. “Try this.”

Holding it up with two fingers, I wince. There are more strings than swimsuit. “This won’t fit me.”

“It will. Trust me. It’s stretchy, remember?”

“Ryann.”

The teen sighs with her whole body. “Just try it. If it doesn’t work, we’ll stop at the big discount store on the edge of town to get you another one.”

Since when did this kid become the boss of me?

“Fine. But be prepared to stop at that discount store.” In the bathroom, I slip the straps off from my old suit, and as I push it down, my thumb pokes a hole through the fabric. I stare in disbelief and in horror because I think I dodged a bullet. Ryann was right. Again.

Tossing the old suit into the garbage can, I hold up the thing she gave me. Glancing at the price tag that’s still hanging on it, I’m surprised. It’s a size sixteen. “Sure doesn’t look like a sixteen.” Putting my legs into the holes, I pull it up to midthigh. That’s the point things usually go wrong, but it doesn’t feel that tight. I shimmy it up past my hips and waist, up over my chest. Slipping my arms through the holes, I see my reflection in the mirror, and I’m shocked. “It fits.”

“Told you it would,” the little booger on the other side of the door says with a bit too much satisfaction in her voice.

“You’re going to need to help me tie the back.” That’s where all the strings came from. It crisscrosses in the back and ties at the top. “It’s cute. You’ve got good taste.” Pulling open the door, I check myself over to make sure nothing is showing that should be hidden.

“Well thanks, but Dad picked it out.”

“Rome?” I choke. “When?”

“That day we bought my suit. He saw it and thought you’d look good in it.”

I catch my reflection in the mirror over the dresser. Sure, my stomach isn’t great, and my thighs could use some firming up, but overall, the thing is supportive, especially in the bra area. “He shouldn’t have.”

“He figured you’d take us swimming at some point.”

And he assumed I didn’t have a suit? I guess I shouldn’t overanalyze this. It was thoughtful. “Well, tell him––”

“Nope. You tell him.”

She’s right. “Sure. The next time––”

“I know he’s been texting you nonstop since we left Chicago. I heard your phone dinging for hours.”

“Well––”

“Just forgive him already. It’s painful to watch my father lay around all day in dirty sweats.”

“He did that?”

---