Page 28 of I'm Yours

“What?”

I drive past Sadie’s dance studio and can’t help staring. So many unasked questions linger in my head after seeing her. How did she start teaching pole dancing? Is she still single? I almost groan out loud. And that’s just a few of the questions I have. I was so focused on seeing her again that I didn’t take the time to get to know who she is now. “She dances, too!” Emmy shouts.

Huh? “Who?”

“Erica!” she says excitedly but also like she’s annoyed with her dad for not listening.

“Oh, right. Erica. Of course. I knew that.”

“Daddy.” It’s her new go-to way to say my name. Almost as if she’s admonishing me. It cracks me up.

“Emmy.” I say it the same way.

I glance in the mirror just in time to see her roll her eyes. I’m not even going to deny how scared I am of the teenage years.

“So she’s a dancer, huh?”

“Yes! Isn’t that so great?”

Just what I need. To be surrounded by more dancers. Not to mention, apparently my mother’s new hobby. A shudder rolls down my spine at the thought. “It is. You know why?”

Her dark eyes get huge. “Why?”

“I talked to the studio today and got you signed up for classes.” She squeals and kicks her feet. “Don’t kick the back of the seat.”

“Sorry. Thank you thank you thank you!”

“You’re welcome. I think you start next week. That okay with you?”

Another round of squealing commences and I promise that we’ll go shopping for leotards this weekend. It’s another thing that Katherine would no doubt have taken care of but I can handle it. A big part of me is grateful that Igetto do these things. I missed out on a lot of her young life by letting Katherine just take care of so many things. Now, though, I’m involved in every decision and I can’t say that I mind one bit. Another reason for me to feel guilty over how I treated Katherine. I took advantage of our roles. Not that she ever complained, and I don’t think she ever really minded, but I know she wouldn’t have turned away my help had I offered it.

“Oh, turn it up, Daddy! This is my jam!”

I sputter. “Your jam?” What the hell? She’s five. She shouldn’t have a jam. Or even know what that means. Never mind the fact that I can’t decide if the song that’s playing through the speakers is awesome or ridiculous.

“Yes! Listen to it! It’s telling us to dance! Can you teach me the two-step?”

“Now that, I can do.” I grin, roll down our windows, and turn up the radio so she canjamout to “The Git Up”, her little arms moving around as she wiggles in her seat and singing along with a smile on her face that turns me to mush. It’s also very obvious that we need to do some work on her right and left because yikes, she’s not even consistent with mixing them up.

Before long we’re pulling into my parents’ ranch after listening to the song on repeat so many times that I no longer like it or find the beat in any way appealing. My parents are standing on the front porch waiting for Emmy’s arrival with Bandit by my dad’s feet. As soon as the pickup is in park, Emmy unbuckles and Mom is opening her door, excited to see how her first day at school went. Chatter between the two of them is loud and happy, Bandit’s whimpering and barking cutting through.

“Oh, Bandit!” Emmy cries out and falls to the ground so she can wrap her arms around him. “I missed you!”

“You didn’t miss me but you missed Bandit?” I scoff.

She looks up at me and gives me the stink-eye. “Of course, Daddy. He’s my baby.”

“Oh, well in that case…”

Dad chuckles and puts his hand on my shoulder, jostling me around a little bit. “Heard you had an eventful day.”

“Heard Mom took up a new hobby.”

He smirks then winks. “See, this new hobby benefits me so I can’t say anything bad about it.”

I close my eyes and fight against the gag that’s threatening to make its presence known. Dad only chuckles at my misery.

“Well, that’s enough ofthat.”

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