soon enough.
To be fair, finding out her mother is responsible for half of the blame won’t bode well either. When she asked about my night out, I glossed over the hours spent away from her. She pestered me a bit, mostly about a certain mechanic, but let the topic drop when I kept my lips sealed. I’ll be adding that evening to the list of debauchery she’ll never be aware of. Distraction is the key to my well-meaning ploy. The rapidly approaching summer break is a great trick, too.
“Do your teachers have anything fun planned for the final week?” I discreetly cross my fingers that another nature walk isn’t on the list. Losing my daughter in the woods should be enough to veto that field trip in the foreseeable future.
“There’s a talent show tomorrow,” Millie whispers.
I let my jaw hang loose. “What? Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“Because.”
“Did you try out? Is there something I need to sign? Do you need a costume?” I tick off the questions with my fingers.
“No, Mom.” Her tone bangs against the back of my seat, vibrating the cushion.
I wince. “Whoa, Miss Priss. What’s the deal?”
“Being on stage in front of everyone is my worst nightmare.” Sometimes she sounds ten years beyond her seven. My sweet little girl.
“Okay, Mills. That’s just fine. Are you okay?”
Her gaze is pointed out the window. “I’ll be better once school is out.”
“Is someone bothering you?”
She traces an imaginary pattern on the glass. “Just the usual.”
Her muted voice scratches at the softest, most delicate parts of me. The anxiety and stress she is feeling stacks on my shoulders in wide bricks. I don’t want to prod too hard when the topic has been discussed at length. My daughter isn’t a social butterfly, and that’s perfectly fine. “You’ll tell me if it’s something serious?”
“Uh-huh, sure. Are you working with Josey today?”
I let her off the hook. If anything extreme is going on, I’m counting on her teacher to tell me. “Yup, sure am. I’m meeting her at Steeped once you scurry that cute little bootie inside.”
Millie groans. “Mom, don’t be embarrassing.”
The gasp I release is mock to the extreme. “Me? Never. Plus, you’re still young enough to believe I’m the coolest person ever. We can review that concept once you’re thirteen and truly think I’m ridiculous.”
“You’re being silly,” she murmurs.
And my baby is growing up too fast. This grumpy goof is going to need ice cream later. Or that other surprise I’ve been holding out on. “You cannot start the pre-teen drama yet. Not happening.”
“I’m not.” She totally is.
“If you say so.”
“I do.” Millie smiles, wide and genuine. “I’ll always be your little girl, Mama.”
“Much better. I love you, sweetie.”
“Love you lots.”
“What else—”
“We’re in front of the school, Mama.”
I whip a fast glance out the windshield for confirmation. How did we arrive so fast? Must have been my lack of concentration. Again. “All right, well, run along. Have fun getting your learn on. Mama has a lot to do.”
She manages to stretch her grin wider. “Like see Ford?”
Would it be too telling if I bang my head against the steering wheel? “He’s not on the list.” As in ever again. “Nice try, though.”
Her bottom lip sticks out a mile wide. “I wish he would be.”
“Okay, bye! Have an excellent great day, Millie.”
My daughter blows me a kiss before hopping out onto the sidewalk. With her head down and shoulders slumped, no one spares my little girl a glance. I can only hope this is a phase. Once she gains more confidence, others will see what I do so clearly. Those days are just beyond the horizon.
As I pull out of the parking lot, a popular, fast-paced pop song croons from the radio. I recall shaking my ass to this tune at Bronco Buck. Muscle memory kicks in, and I begin shimmying to the catchy beat. Along with my smooth moves, sneaky reflections filter into the cracks.
The air conditioning is blasting, but a tingle of heat begins crawling under my skin. Certain moments rise to the surface faster than others. Crawford’s parting blow has been plaguing me since he stormed out of my house. Farewell fuck? Who says that? He should’ve just left before I woke up, dignity intact and great memories to keep us warm. But then we wouldn’t have shared that mind-melting, extremely erotic—
Dammit, there I go again. I inwardly curse myself. This nonsense reminiscing needs to quit. While turning onto Main Street, I shove all thoughts of Crawford and