to it. My kid couldn’t win for losing.
But all that trial and error had given us a pretty decent list of things she could eat, and we’d come up with some recipes to add some flavor and variety where we could. Every two weeks, I came up with a meal plan to make sure I had everything on hand for my custody weeks. Tonight’s scheduled dinner was chicken that I’d marinated in a mild garlic sauce that Dallas loved (and was blessedly something she could eat), plus a few slices of steamed zucchini mixed with carrots and green beans. A little boring, and something we ate all the time, but under the circumstances, neither of us complained.
And all in all, I tried not to complain. The stress of snowballing bills, dwindling PTO, and the exhausting constant vigilance to keep Dallas’s migraines at bay as much as possible—it was hard, but I knew it could have been so much worse in so many ways. I had more tools now to help her than I’d had six months ago. Six months from now, God willing, I’d have more.
Could someone please give my kid a break? Please?
When dinner was ready, I tapped my knuckle on Dallas’s door. “Hey, kiddo. Hungry?”
There was some movement on the other side, and then the door opened. “Oh my God. Yes. I’m starving.”
“Why didn’t you say so? I’d have made something sooner.”
“Because I was drowning in stupid math homework and didn’t think about it.”
“Fair enough. Come on. Let’s eat.”
On the way back to the kitchen, the poster of Jase on the living room wall caught my eye, and I gulped. Every time I saw that damn thing, it made me anxious and guilty. Should I tell Dallas? Would she find out on her own if I didn’t? Jase and I were keeping this quiet, but there was always that possibility someone with a long lens could get curious. The thought made my skin crawl anyway, but what if that was how my daughter found out about my new relationship?
I should tell her. Right?
When I thought a partner might stick around for a while, and once she and they were both ready, I’d introduce them. I’d worked hard to walk that fine line between letting her meet someone too soon and hiding someone from her for too long; I didn’t want to lie to her, but I also didn’t want her getting attached or—possibly worse—refusing to get attached to someone because they’d be gone like the last few. It was a delicate balance to say the least. Especially since several had bolted after the rubber had met the road and “my life has to revolve around my daughter’s health” became more than just an abstract idea.
The situation with Jase was more complicated because of his high profile. I didn’t have the same control over when and how to bring this relationship into her view. Plus now we were working together on the low stim nights. Sooner or later, Dallas was going to figure out Jase and I were still in contact. Or someone else would. Then what?
Well. One thing at a time.
First, dinner.
We both left our phones on the counter where we could hear them if something urgent came through or we got a call, but they wouldn’t be a distraction during dinner.
As we ate, I said, “How’s your homework coming?”
She made a miserable sound.
“Do you need help with it?”
“No.” She jabbed a green bean with her fork. “It’s just hard and stupid.”
I chuckled. “Yeah, that sounds like homework. If you need help, though, just say so.”
Dallas nodded.
We ate in silence for a moment, and I flailed for something to fill that silence. Normally Dallas and I were fine like that. We didn’t have to be talking every minute of every meal. But whenever the conversation hit a lull, my mind shot right back to the place it kept going whenever she and I were home—do I tell her about Jase?
The more I thought about it… I mean, this relationship was very, very new, but if Jase and I kept seeing each other, someone was going to find out sooner or later. I wasn’t sure how I felt about potentially being pulled into the spotlight, but there was one thing I hadn’t had to question once since the beginning: that I absolutely did not want my daughter finding out about this relationship via the internet or gossip. And the fact was, the longer I waited, the more likely she