Page 99 of Dancing in the Dark

“Because only adults are allowed. But that doesn’t mean you and I can’t host our own little dance parties in the dark, right?”

“Tonight?”

Smiling, I shake my head and set my lipstick down. “Not tonight. But soon, I promise. What are you up to next weekend?”

She strolls around her apartment, opening doors, closing doors. She moves closer to the living room, so the rushed voices of sports casters narrating a basketball game drone from the television.

“Cato?” Mia’s breath hitches and grunts. “Cato?”

Whack!

“Ouch. Why are you hitting me, booger face?”

“Cos I wanted to ask you a question,” she giggles. “What are we doing next weekend?”

“Dunno. Might ask a girl out. Might fall in love. Why? Who’s asking?”

“Fifi.”

“Oh!” He shifts enthusiastically on the couch. “Are you interested in falling in love, Fifi? Because I’m available, we could adopt Mia, and Fletch could pay us both child support. It’s perfect and you’re hot.”

“Mm. I appreciate the offer.” I set my hands on the lip of the sink and consider my outfit. “I might pass, though. Mia, honey?”

“Yeah?” Whack! “Yeah, Fifi? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I missed you. Maybe if you and your dad aren’t busy next weekend, we could hang out.”

“Sure! But we’ll see each other before that, right? Cos next weekend is forever away, and I already miss everyone tonight.”

“We’ll see each other before next weekend. Is your dad… uh…” I frown and think of his last text to me: wanna see you tonight, but I gotta work till late. Maybe you could sneak into my bed once we’re both done with our things?

That text alone wasn’t an issue, but then Minka invited me to a BBQ at their house tonight, so now I have a nasty case of curiosity and not enough confidence to ask my questions. If Archer is cooking, then he won’t be working. If Archer isn’t working, then why is Charlie? Do they split up often? Isn’t that dangerous?

“You didn’t finish your question!” Mia giggles. “Did your brain forget, Fifi? My brain sometimes forgets my questions.”

Don’t involve his kid. Never involve his kid!

“Does your dad often work even when Uncle Arch isn’t working?”

Dammit, Seraphina!

“I dunno. Cato!”

Whack.

“Ouch!”

“How come Daddy is working tonight but Uncle Arch isn’t?”

“McStinkerson! I don’t know! But if you don’t stop hitting me, I’m gonna hit you back.”

“No, you won’t!” She screams, squirming and rolling. I’m pretty sure he’s tickling her. “Cato, nooooooo!”

“Say mercy, child! Say you’re sorry!”

“Fifiiiiiiii! Save me.”

She cries out for me, squealing loud enough that the sound echoes from tile wall to tile wall, but before I can say anything, our call cuts out and I’m left all alone in my bathroom, staring at a different version of myself. A version Mia wouldn’t even recognize. A version my mother definitely wouldn’t have recognized, or approved of, back when she had a voice and used it every chance she could.