“Ugh.” Chloe whirls around and growls. “Why are you being so difficult?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” I mumble.
“Daughters,” a woman says, dropping down beside me on the couch. “Can’t live with ‘em, can’t live without ‘em.”
“Oh, I bet I could live without her,” I joke.
The woman smiles and then laughs when she says, “I could probably live without mine, too. I’m Laura.” She holds out her hand, and I shake it.
“Tucker. That lovely girl that just rolled her eyes at me is my daughter, Chloe.”
“She’s beautiful.”
“Thank you. Which one of these prepubescent tween princesses belongs to you?”
Laura points to a set of twin girls fawning over the jewelry rack.
“Oh my God, you have two? How does that even work?”
“Well,” she says, crossing her legs, “it’s double the hair in my sink, double the mess, double the food, double the laundry, double the eye rolls and growls and tears.”
I shudder. “You deserve some sort of medal. The hair I could handle, the tears I could not.”
Chloe sulks out from behind a curtain, and Laura and I both look up.
“Yes!” I jump up and turn Chloe so she can look at herself in the mirror. “This one is my favorite.”
“It’s hideous.”
“No, it’s not.” The skirt is three-quarter-length, cutting off mid-calf, the straps are nice and thick with a high chest line, and there are rhinestones. Every girl loves rhinestones. “You said you didn’t have any more dresses to try on.”
“Because this dress is awful. I don’t even know how it ended up in my pile.”
“I put it there.”
Chloe looks at me blandly. “I’m not wearing this dress out in public.”
“Oh, come on, you’re being dramatic.” I turn to Laura. “Would you tell her that she looks wonderful?”
“I look like I’m eighty.”
Laura pinches her lips together and tilts her head. “Well…”
“See.” Chloe spins around and disappears before I have a chance to argue.
Dress shopping is officially a form of parental torture. God help me when prom rolls around. If I can’t survive a junior high dance, there’s no way I’ll make it through prom.
The door rips open, and Chloe shoves past me, the stack of dresses in her arms.
“We’ll keep looking,” I say, following her through the store.
“What’s the point? You’re just going to hate every single one I pick out.”
“That isn’t true.”
Chloe whirls around. “Yes, it is. Everything is too short or cut too low in the back, or the straps are too thin.”
“You’re eleven years old, Chloe. I’m not going to let you walk out of the house looking like you’re twenty.”
She opens her mouth to argue, but I’ve had enough.
“Yell at me one more time, and you’re grounded. I am not arguing with you about this in the middle of the store. Now, you can either stop throwing a tantrum and we can keep looking for dresses, or we’re going home.”
“Fine, let’s go home.” Chloe finds a sales associate, hands off the dresses, and heads straight for the door. “You didn’t even want to come to begin with.”
“That’s not true.”
“Whatever.”
God, I hate that word.
The ride home is silent. Not in the comfortable sense, but in the I’m so pissed off at you I can’t even breathe sense from my eleven-year-old.
If this is how it is when she’s prepubescent, I don’t even want to think about how she’ll be in five years.
Lord, have mercy.
I pull into my driveway, and before I’ve even cut off the engine, Chloe hurries out of the car, slamming the door behind her way harder than necessary and then stomps up onto the front porch.
“Come back here,” I say after climbing out of the vehicle.
“I want to go to my room.”
“I’ve had it with your mouth today, young lady. I said, come back here.”
“You’re being ridiculous,” she says when she turns around, but when she sees the stern look on my face, she looks down and finishes the sentence with, “sir.”
“You owe me an apology for yelling at me in public like that.”
She frowns. “I’m sorry if I was disrespectful. I’m just so frustrated.”
“Yeah, well, join the club.”
Chloe’s head comes up, and her face turns from a frown to a tentative smile.
“Hi, Scarlett.”
“Hi, you two,” Scarlett says as she walks across her dad’s lawn. “I just saw you pull in and thought I’d see what you’re up to.”
“Dad’s yelling at me because I’m a brat,” Chloe says, and I rub my hand over the back of my neck in frustration.
“Really?” Scarlett asks.
“No, not really,” I reply before Chloe can. “We’re having a discussion about dresses for her dance.”
“He’s incorrigible.”
“Dads usually are,” Scarlett says with a sigh. “Did you get a dress?”
“No, because he hates everything I like.” Chloe sits on the top step of the porch and props her chin in her hand as if all is lost in her world. “I guess I just won’t go to the dance since I don’t have anything to wear.”
“You have a whole closet full of clothes,” I remind her, but she just rolls her eyes.
“I have an idea,” Scarlett says. “Why don’t I take Chloe shopping for a suitable dress?”
“Really?” Chloe’s head whips up, her face lighting up with excitement. “You’d take me? That would be so dope.”
“You don’t have to do that,” I say, earning another scowl from my daughter. “I don’t want you to feel obligated.”
“Sugar, there are few things in this world I feel obligated to do.”
Somehow, I don’t think that’s entirely true.
“I would love to get out of the house for a few hours and take this sweet girl shopping. If you don’t mind hanging out with my daddy.”
“Done.” I jump at the chance to spend time with Rick rather than a pouty preteen. And I don’t even feel guilty about it. “But there are rules.”
“Of course, there are.” Scarlett crosses her arms over her chest and cocks a hip to the side. I almost forget what we’re talking about. “What are they?”
“What are what?”
Scarlett’s lips twitch with humor. “The rules.”
“Oh, right. Sorry. One, it needs to hit below the knee. Two, no cleavage. And three, it can’t be strapless.”
“Basically, I should just wear a nun costume,” Chloe says.
“Nah, we can totally work with those rules,” Scarlett says. “Let me go grab my handbag, and we’ll be on our way.”
She hurries back to Rick’s house, and Chloe rushes inside ours.
“I’m going shopping with Scarlett Kincaid!”
I wanted to say no. That I have it covered. But the truth is, I don’t have it covered, and I’m relieved that Scarlett offered to take my daughter shopping.
I’ll happily go have my ass handed to me in gin rummy by Rick.
8
~Scarlett~
Shopping in New Hope isn’t easy. In a town this small, the best we can do is a JC Penney or Target. The alternative is to drive up to Charleston, and thanks to Tucker leaving this for the last minute, we don’t have time for that.
So, we start at JC Penney.
“This is the one I told Dad I want,” Chloe says, making a beeline for a little red dress. She holds it up against her small frame, and at a glance, I’d say it’s all the things Tucker said he doesn’t want.
Of course.
“Chloe, there are rules, remember?”
“Just let me try it on,” she pleads. “I’ll show you, it’s not that bad.”
“Okay. Let’s grab a few for you, sound good?”
“I
want this one,” she whispers, but I pretend not to hear her. Chloe’s as strong-willed as her father. It’s no wonder they butt heads from time to time.
Reminds me of me with my dad. I’ll have to apologize to him later for being difficult.
“I don’t wear pink,” Chloe says when I hold up a blush-colored dress. “Ever.”
“This one’s out then.”
She nods, and I reach for a cute little black dress.
“I don’t like black.”
“Chloe, why do I get the feeling the only color you like is red?”
She grins and shrugs one shoulder. “Red is my favorite.”
“Okay, I get it. You want that dress. But you have to work with me here. It’s called compromise. If you’re not willing to budge, no one gets what they want, and everyone is just angry. And that’s no fun.”
“I bet you don’t have to compromise.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because you’re rich and famous and can have anything you want.”
“Think again, kiddo.” I grab the black dress, making Chloe scowl, but I ignore her. “I have to compromise all the time. Because I’m a grown-up. So, if you want to be taken seriously, you need to shed some of the attitude and be more open-minded. I think you hurt your dad’s feelings today.”
Chloe frowns, the first chink in her carefully erected armor. “I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings.”
“I know. It’s tough when you think you know what’s best, and your dad’s idea of that is different from yours. I was raised by a single dad, too.”
“Oh, yeah. It’s not so bad. My dad’s really great. He’s a good person, and I usually get pretty much what I want. But, sometimes, he just doesn’t understand being a girl. You know?”
“Of course. Because he’s a boy, so it’s hard for him to understand.” I lead her to the dressing rooms and hang the dresses on the rack inside, then step out while Chloe changes. “Start with the black one. We’ll look at the red one last.”
She sighs heavily, and I smile.
“Why doesn’t your mom take you shopping?” I ask and bite my lip, hoping I didn’t cross a line with the question. But the truth is, I’m dying to know more about her mother.
“I never met her,” she says matter-of-factly. “It’s just been Dad and me since I was born. He says I look a lot like her, but he doesn’t tell me too much else. I think it makes him sad.”
“Did she die?” I ask.
“No, she didn’t want me.”
There’s no sadness in her voice. No regret. Just facts, and that breaks my heart because I know what it’s like to have your mom not want you.
How could anyone not want this wonderful little girl? I mean, I’m the least maternal person I know, and I would scoop her up in a heartbeat.
Chloe comes out of the dressing room wearing the black dress I chose.
“And don’t feel sorry for me because my dad is awesome, and we don’t need her.”
“I couldn’t agree with you more. You and your dad are doing great.”
She walks to the mirror and frowns. “This one isn’t bad, but I don’t love it.”
“Hmm.” I tug on the hemline. It hits her at mid-calf, but it makes her legs look stubby. And I don’t like where it sits on her hips. “This one is a no.”
“Told you.”
She walks back into the dressing room to change.
“Anyway,” she continues, “the only thing I know about my mom is that her name is Valerie, and she grew up here, but her family doesn’t live here anymore.”
My mind whirls, trying to think who this Valerie could be.
“So, you don’t even see her parents?”
“Nope. I have Nana and Papa, and Rick. He’s like a grandpa to me.”
“Of course.”
Valerie? Who the heck is—?
Holy shit. Could her mom be—? No. It’s not possible. Hell would freeze over before Tucker would touch her.
Just the thought of it makes me want to gag.
No way.
Before I can ponder it further, Chloe marches out of the dressing room, her chin raised a bit defiantly, sporting the strapless red dress.
“I like this one.”
She walks to the mirror and smiles at her reflection. I have to admit, it’s cute, the girl has good taste.
Yes, the skirt hits above the knee, but only by about an inch. It’s not form-fitting, and it’s much more flattering than the black dress. However, I agree with Tucker that the top is too revealing.
“So, here’s the thing with this dress, Chloe. It’s super cute.” She smiles triumphantly. “But it needs something more on top.”
“You sound like my dad.”
“He’s not wrong.” She shakes her head, but I take her shoulders in my hands and hold her gaze in the mirror. “Think about it like this. You’re a beautiful girl. There will be so much time to grow into dresses that show a bit more skin, but you don’t want to show everyone all the goods first thing out of the gate. You need to be a mystery.”
“A mystery?”
“Oh, yeah. Be mysterious. Wear pretty clothes, don’t let them wear you. That means you’re the gorgeous one, not the dress.”
She tilts her head to the side, thinking it over. “Yeah. I like that.”
“So, we’re going to add a little black shrug, maybe a shimmery necklace. It’s all about accessories.”
“See, Dad wouldn’t have thought of this.”
“Well, that’s what you have me for, isn’t it?”
I wink, and with a feeling of victory, Chloe and I go find the rest of her outfit.
“See, Dad?” Chloe says as she walks out of her bedroom, ready to give us a fashion show. We’re sitting on the couch, and I’m watching Tucker’s face.
“Isn’t that the dress I shot down?” He glances at me, and I smile brightly.
“You’re right, it is. But hear us out.” I hurry next to Chloe. “The dress barely skims her knees. And trust me, we tried other dresses that hit her below the knee, and they chop her off awkwardly.”
“But they cover the knees.”
I fight the impulse to roll my eyes.
“Please, hear me out.” He nods once. “This black cardigan serves two purposes. One, it dresses it down a bit and makes it more age-appropriate, and it covers her arms and shoulders. We added the thin black belt and a sparkly necklace, and with her hair curled, she’ll look absolutely stunning.”
“I swear I won’t take the sweater off, Dad. I promise.”
His gaze shifts between the two of us, and I bite my lip, waiting for the verdict. Finally, he sighs.
“Okay, it looks nice. But you have to keep that sweater on.”
“Oh my God, I totally promise,” Chloe says, bouncing to Tucker and throwing her arms around his neck. “Thank you, Daddy.”
“You’re welcome. Go hang your dress up so it doesn’t wrinkle.”
“Can I watch YouTube for a while?”
“One hour,” he says before kissing her cheek and watching her skip happily up the stairs to her bedroom.
“Thank you,” I say softly.
“No, thank you. I wouldn’t have thought of the sweater, and she would have been mad at me for weeks.”
“It was fun, actually.”
He stares at me in surprise, making me giggle.
“I know this is a shocker, but shopping is fun for girls. Next time, I’ll take her to Charleston so we can shop properly.”
He tilts his head to the side. “Do you think you’ll still be here for a next time?”
The words just flew out of my mouth without thinking. But the truth is, I don’t know how long I’ll be in town.
“I don’t know,” I admit.
He nods, and I sit next to him on the couch, the silence awkward.
“How’s my dad?” I ask.
“He’s good. Lexi came over for lunch, so I came home. She’s over there now.”
“I saw her car when I pulled in.” I
steel myself for my next question. “Tuck, is Valerie Brown Chloe’s mom?”
He blinks, taken aback by the question, and then his face transforms to the one I know so well. The one that says: guilty.
“No.” I stand and shake my head. “Tell me it’s not true.”
“I can’t tell you that.”
“Tucker, I hated her. She was so mean!”
“Yeah, well…”
“How could you even touch her? Ew.” I shiver. “I don’t even want to think about it.”
“Then stop thinking about it.”
“Tucker.” I groan and cover my face. “Valerie Brown?”
“Maybe I knew you hated her. And you left.”
“Hold up. Are you telling me you boned Vicious Valerie because I hurt your feelings?”
“Well, when you put it like that, it sounds childish, but”—he shrugs a shoulder, and I stare at him in disbelief—“she did give me Chloe.”
“And Chloe is wonderful, but Valerie Brown?” I whisper, then shiver again. “We can’t speak of this ever again. It’s not okay.”
“You’re so dramatic.”
“I can’t believe you gave it to the mean girl.”
“Stop saying it like that,” he says, laughing.
“It’s true. Yuck. Okay, I have to go home and scrub my mind’s eye with a hot poker.”
“Okay, drama girl. Thanks for being nice to my kid.”
“Yeah, well, I like her. A lot more than I like you right now.”
“I can live with that,” he replies and follows me to the door. He opens it for me, and as I walk past him, he pulls me against him into a strong hug, his arms folding around me firmly. I wrap my arms around his middle and breathe in soap and sunshine.
He smells the same as he did all those years ago.
“I missed you,” he whispers against my hair before pressing a kiss to the top of my head.
Tears spring to my eyes, and before I make a fool of myself, I nod and pull away.
“I missed you more.”
And with that, I hurry across the yard to my dad’s house, feeling Tucker’s eyes pinned to my back the entire way.
It’s been almost a week since I took Chloe shopping. Her dance should be tonight, and I’d love to go help her get ready, but I haven’t been invited, and I’m hanging out with Dad tonight.
Already Gone Page 6