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“You did the right thing.” I pull her back into my arms. “Jimmy’s a jerk. Most boys are at that age.”
I wish I had some words of wisdom to give to her, but I don’t. I don’t know what in the hell was going on in that kid’s head. Chloe is sweet and smart and beautiful…what’s not to love?
“I just don’t get it,” she says, cuddling against me the way she did when she was a little girl. “When we were at the punch bowl, he told me I looked pretty, but then when I asked him to dance, he acted like a doofus.”
“Sounds like he was trying to look cool in front of his friends.”
“But he embarrassed me.”
“You have nothing to be embarrassed about. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Did something like this ever happen to you?”
I shake my head and push a strand of Chloe’s tear-soaked hair behind her ear. “I was never as brave as you.”
“What do you mean?”
“It took a lot of courage for you to ask Jimmy to dance. I never built up enough courage to ask the girl I liked to dance.” My eyes slide across the room to Scarlett. She straightens her back and watches me.
Chloe follows my gaze. “You wanted to dance with Scarlett, didn’t you?”
“Maybe.”
Chloe smiles, and the knot in my stomach loosens. “I bet she would’ve said yes.”
Scarlett walks into the room and sits on the other side of the bed by Chloe. “You think too highly of me.”
Chloe’s brows pinch together. “What do you mean?”
“Well, this isn’t easy to admit, especially to someone I admire—that’s you by the way,” she adds, shoulder-bumping Chloe. “But I wasn’t the nicest girl when we were growing up. Actually, I was probably the female version of Jimmy.”
“I don’t believe it. You’re way too nice, and my dad tells me stories about how much fun the two of you had.”
I take a breath and listen to Scarlett. “We did have fun together, outside of school. But during school, I wasn’t very nice.”
“Why?” Chloe asks.
“I wish I had a good answer for you, but I don’t. I was insecure and angry at the world. I always worried about what everyone else thought, and I…I just wasn’t very nice.”
“What changed?” Chloe asks. “You seem to like my dad now.”
Scarlett looks at me and grins. “I’ve always liked your dad. The problem was never him. It was me.”
“You think that maybe Jimmy really does like me, but he’s too embarrassed to admit it in front of his friends?”
“Maybe. But here’s the thing, if he can’t admit it in front of his friends, he isn’t worth your time. You’re young, and lots of boys will come in and out of your life—”
“Not lots,” I clarify.
Scarlett rolls her eyes and continues as though I didn’t interrupt her. “—but the good ones, the ones that are worth your time, they won’t make you cry. The good ones won’t laugh at you. They’ll make you smile. They’ll ask you to dance.”
“Did my dad used to make you smile?”
“All the time. Still does. Your dad is one of the good ones.”
“Do you think that someday a boy will ask me to dance?”
“I know it.”
“That’s it, I’m going to have to chaperone every dance for the rest of your life.”
Chloe giggles. “Please, don’t.”
I wrap my arm around her shoulders. “I like it so much better when you’re laughing.”
“I love you, Dad.”
“I love you, too. Why don’t you take a shower and wash the night away? It’ll make you feel better.”
“I think you’re right. I’m sorry you had to come get me early and that I only wore my dress for a few hours.”
“You don’t ever have to apologize for calling me to help you. I’m always here for you, Chloe. Today, tomorrow, twenty years from now. I’m always here. You’ll get a chance to wear the dress again.” I give her one final squeeze and stand up. I hold a hand out for Scarlett. “Come on, I’ll walk you home.”
“Good night, Chloe,” Scarlett says, taking my hand.
“Good night, Scarlett. Thank you for helping me with the dress, and for doing my hair and makeup.”
“Anytime. And make sure you hang that dress up,” Scarlett says as I tug her out of Chloe’s room. “Make sure she hangs that dress up. You should probably have it dry-cleaned, too.”
“Dry-clean. Got it.”
We step out the front door, and Scarlett rests her head on my shoulder as we walk slowly across the yard.
“You were great in there.”
“Really? Because I was totally winging it. I sort of felt like I was flopping around and messing the whole thing up.”
Scarlett steps in front of me, grips the front of my shirt, and tugs me forward. “I don’t think you can mess up. You’re a great dad. I wish I could’ve been around to see you with her when she was younger.”
