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“I’m not old!” Whoops, I shouted that.
“To me you are,” she says. “And you probably are to Melissa, too.” She turns her attention across the table. “Do you think my dad is old, Melissa?”
She sputters her response. “I … um … that is to say … no. He’s only, what, seven or eight years older than me?”
“Yeah, but if I had a crush on a guy eight years older than me, Dad would have a cow. Like seriously, moo.”
“If you had a crush on a guy eight years older than you,” I tell her, “he would be nineteen and that would be illegal.”
“It’s not illegal to have a crush onanyone,” Sammy tells me. “It would be illegal if we, you know … had sex.”
I crumple my napkin and close my eyes. “If we’re going to bowl, there are a few rules I’m going to need you two to follow. No talking about periods, no talking about boys, and no talking about boobs …”
“What’s left?” Sammy demands.
I purposefully pick the things I know she would hate, to make a point as to how much I disliked our dinner conversation. “We could talk about the weather, the Cubs, the upcoming presidential campaign. We could even discuss Tesla stock, if you want.”
Sammy shoves my arm hard like she’s trying to move me. I take the hint and stand up while she says, “I think you should go home and take a nap. You’re being a total grump.”
“I just don’t want to talk about girl things anymore. I’ve been a real sport.”
Sammy rolls her eyes, then she deepens her voice and pretends to be me. “No dating, Sammy … no kissing, Sammy … no drunken parties on the beach, Sammy …”
“What drunken parties on the beach? We never talked about those.” Beads of cold sweat pop up on my forehead.
“Yet …” she says. “But I bet you a thousand dollars that conversation is coming.”
“It better not be coming for a long time,” I warn her. “You’re twelve. Please remember that.”
She scoots out of the booth at the same time Melissa does. As we walk to the door to leave, Sammy says, “I’m almost thirteen. That will make me a teenager. Which means make-out parties, boys, boobs … all the things I’m apparently not allowed to talk to you about.”
“Just no more tonight,” I tell her. “Let me ease into your impending womanhood a bit slower, will you?”
Sammy pushes past me and then spins around angrily. “I’m glad I’m going to meet Beth. God knows I need a mother figure in my life.” She points to Melissa, and adds, “And you’re too stupid to want to date her.”
“Sammy …” My tone is cautionary.
“What? You told me you’re never going to get married, and I want a mom.”
“You told me you didn’t want Melissa and me to date.”
“So?”
“So, you can’t throw it in my face that I won’t date her when you are the one who doesn’t want me to date her.” I shoot a panicked look toward Melissa hoping for some help, but she keeps her mouth closed.
“You make me so mad, Dad.” Sammy turns around and storms out of the diner.
“What in the heck just happened?” I ask Melissa, who moves to follow her.
“Sammy got her period which means her hormones are on overload and she’s feeling all kinds of things she doesn’t know how to articulate.”
“When will she go back to being the kid I know?” I feel panicky.
“Definitely by the time she’s twenty-five,” she says.
“Twenty-five? Did it take you that long?”
She shrugs her shoulders. “I couldn’t tell you. My mom and I have always butted heads, so it’s possible she’d tell you I’m still a pain in the neck.”
