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I don’t want to cross a line, but I do want to help.
“Chloe, you need to apologize to your father.”
Both heads whip around in surprise.
“What?” Chloe asks.
“You heard me. Remember last week when we talked about compromise and your attitude?”
She cringes and then nods. “Sorry, Dad.”
“Now. There is a compromise here. Tucker, if you trust me, I’d be happy to help Chloe with her hair and makeup.”
“What about your dad?”
“Lexi is with him. She offered to spend the evening with him so I could have a night off.”
“Lexi? As in your sister, Alexis?”
“Shocking, I know. So, what do you say? Can I help Chloe?”
He props his hands on his hips and watches me, then sighs and nods. “Okay. Thank you. But not too much.”
“You’re welcome. And no clown makeup, I promise.” I make a cross over my heart. “Now, this is a girls-only zone. You go wait for the big reveal.”
I shoo him out of the room and then turn to Chloe. “You’ll never get your way with him if you yell and stomp your foot. You sound like a baby.”
“But he makes me so mad.”
“I think the feeling’s mutual.” I sigh and reach for her hairbrush. “Now, let’s get down to business. If it’s okay with you, I’ll help you with your hair and makeup.”
“Yes, please. I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“It’s a good thing that I do.” I wink and get to work, and before long, we’re done.
“Wow,” she says when I finally let her look in the mirror. Chloe touches her soft curls, blinks her big, beautiful eyes that are highlighted with just a touch of mascara, and smiles. “I look really pretty.”
“You sure do,” I agree. “Let’s go show your daddy.”
I follow Chloe downstairs and into the kitchen where Tucker’s doing the dishes. When he looks up at his daughter, he smiles brightly.
“Well, look at you.”
“What do you think?” Chloe holds out the skirt of her dress and turns in a circle.
“I think you’re the most beautiful girl in the world,” he says and hugs her to his side, careful not to mess up her hair. “My little girl isn’t so little anymore.”
“Dad?”
“Yeah?”
“Can you loosen your grip just a little?”
“Sorry.” Tucker gives her one last squeeze and takes a step back. “Now, are you ready to go to the dance?”
“Yes. Can I have my phone?”
“Yep.” He takes an iPhone out of a cabinet, turns it on, and passes it to her. “It’s fully charged. You may call or text me and Jenny only.”
“Can I take some pictures?”
“Yes. And text me when you’re ready to come home. The dance ends at nine, so if I don’t hear from you by then, I’ll be there at eight-fifty-five.”
“Yes, sir,” Chloe says, the obstinate child from just an hour ago long gone and replaced by an excited preteen. “Let’s go.”
“I’ll see you later,” I say, but Tucker frowns.
“Why don’t you go with us? I’ll take you somewhere to eat after we get rid of the munchkin.”
“You’re gonna miss me,” Chloe says as she walks out the door to the car. Tucker grins, waiting for my answer.
“Sure. I’d like that.”
Tucker repeats the rules to Chloe again on the way to the school, and once she’s hurried out of the car to join her friends, he pulls away and smiles over at me.
“Where would you like to go?”
“Charlie’s,” I say immediately, my mouth already salivating at the thought of their chocolate shakes. “I haven’t been since I’ve been home.”
“Charlie’s it is,” he replies.
The place hasn’t changed. Red booths line the perimeter of the diner, and white tables and chrome chairs with red seats fill the middle. There’s a long soda counter with red stools, and two young girls in white aprons bustling behind it.
Elvis plays on the jukebox, and we’re shown to a booth on the far side of the restaurant.
“It’s just like I remember it.”
“Charlie’s doesn’t change,” Tucker agrees. “They did finally recover all the seats because the vinyl was splitting so bad people’s asses were getting cut.”
“Well, that’s pleasant.” I set the menu aside, not even needing to look at it.
“Thanks for helping with Chloe.”
“You don’t have to thank me. I had fun. I reminded her to check her attitude.”
He frowns and sits back, looking out at the parking lot.
Oh, crap. This is what I was afraid of. “I’m sorry if I crossed a line. It’s really none of my business. You don’t need my input.”
“No, I’m not mad. I appreciate the help. Chloe respects you.”
I nod and smile at the young waitress when she walks up. Her eyes go wide when she sees that it’s me in the booth.
“Hello, Miss Scarlett.”
“Hello.”
“This is Rachel Laramie’s daughter, Heather,” Tucker says.
“Oh, hi,” I say with a bright smile. “How is your mama?”
“She’s good. She’s working, as always.” Heather pulls out her pen and pad to take our order.
