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Then a fluffy towel to dry off. A fast collapse on the bed, eyes shut for three minutes. Then bounding up again. Dressing in jeans and a black T, a kelly green sweater. Shoes? Hm. She needed something fun. Aldos, in loud stripes. Silly. Good.
Downstairs, heading into the kitchen. "Hey, hons," Dance called.
Maggie, in jeans and Phineas and Ferb T-shirt, gave a nod. The girl seemed subdued again.
"All okay?"
"Yep."
"What did you do today?"
"Stuff."
The girl disappeared into the den.
What was going on? Was it really nerves about the talent show? "Let It Go" was a challenging tune, yes, but within the girl's range. Lord knew she'd rehearsed plenty, despite the deception the other night about not knowing the lyrics.
Was it something else? It was approaching that time in her life when hormones would soon be working their difficult changes in her body. Maybe they already were.
Adolescence. Wes was already going through it.
Heaven help us...
Or was it what she'd discussed with O'Neil: her father's death.
But Maggie had seemed uninterested in discussing the subject. Dance had noted no unusual affect patterns or kinesic messages when the subject of Bill came up. Still, kinesics is an imperfect science and, while Dance was talented when analyzing those she didn't know, witnesses and suspects, her skills sometimes failed her when it came to family and friends.
She now trailed her daughter into the den and sat down on the couch.
"Hey, babes. How's it going?"
"Yeah. Okay." Maggie was instantly suspicious.
"You've been kind of moody lately. Anything you want to talk about?"
"I'm not moody." The girl flipped through one of the Harry Potter books.
"How's 'distracted'?" Dance smiled.
"Everything's fine."
Thinking of the other children's movie song "Everything Is Awesome," which Michael O'Neil threatened playfully to sing. Just like in that movie, where everything wasn't so awesome, Maggie wasn't fine.
She tried once or twice more to get the girl to engage but she'd learned that it was impossible to do so if the children refused. The best solution was to wait for a different time.
Dance concluded with the standard, "If there's anything you want to talk about, anything at all, let me know. Or I'll turn into a monster. You know what kind of monster I can be. Mom Monster. And how scary is that?"
Dance's smile was not reciprocated.
Maggie tolerated the kiss on the head and Dance rose and stepped out onto the Deck, where Boling sat beneath the propane heater.
They spoke about the case--to the extent she felt comfortable--then about some of his projects, new code he was writing, the reasons why his college-level students hadn't finished their assignments.
"I wish I could give them a grade for the best excuse. I mean, there were A-pluses there."
Dance glanced down at the end of the Deck, where Wes and two friends were intensely involved in a game. She recognized Donnie. She'd seen the other boy but couldn't come up with the name.
She whispered to Boling, "And that's...?"
