Page 61 of Pity Party

“So, you set out to help Sammy run into them. That’s amazing, Melissa, thank you.” He points to the chair next to him.

How long is Tim going to take with his call?I glance at the clubhouse before deciding I might as well wait here where he left me. Sitting down, I explain, “It’s not that amazing. I’m a girl, so I speak the language.”

“I wonder …” He stops talking but I can practically see the thoughts swirling around his brain.

“You wonder what?”

His eyes look haunted as he meets my gaze. “I wonder if Sammy might have navigated the situation in Chicago better had her mom been around to give her advice.”

“I suppose it depends on what advice you gave her,” I reply.

“I told her to turn the other cheek and hold her head up high.”

“Yikes.”

He looks borderline panicky. “Is that wrong?”

“It’s not wrong, but it’s archaic.”

“What should I have said?” he demands.

“You should have taken her to France or encouraged her to have a party. Maybe gotten her front row tickets to Taylor Swift or bought her a new wardrobe.”

“Really?” This poor guy doesn’t stand a chance navigating the nuances of preteen girldom. “What would any of those things have done?”

“They would have made the other girls jealous. And if they saw Sammy carrying on with her life in a spectacular way, they would have realized she didn’t care about them. At that point, they would have either tried to be friends with her again, or they would have let things go.”

His continued look of confusion prompts me to add, “It’s all about confidence. Bullies do what they do for a reaction. If you don’t give them one, they lose interest.”

“How was I supposed to know that? When I was a kid, if a guy bullied you, you punched it out and then went your separate ways.”

“That would certainly be easier,” I tell him. “But girls aren’t wired that way. We tend to take a conflict and turn it into a campaign of espionage and mental warfare.”

“Females scare me,” Jamie says plainly.

I know he’s referring to Sammy, but I can’t help but ask, “Is that why you won’t date them?”

He physically bristles. “I date them. I just don’t invite them to meet my daughter.”

“Too bad,” I tell him. “They might have had some good insights for her.” I know that’s mean, but I can’t help myself.

“The child of a woman I was dating was the source of the bullying Sammy had to endure.”

“What?”

He exhales like he’s trying to blow out a thousand birthday candles at once. “I asked Shelby not to tell her daughter about us until we knew things had a chance at lasting. She didn’t think that was necessary.”

“And her daughter began bullying Sammy?”

“Yes.”

I turn to face the pool and kick my feet up on the lounger. “I’m so sorry,” I say sincerely. “That’s crap and I can see why you’re not interested in Sammy meeting any of your lady friends.”

“Sammy comes first in my life,” he says unnecessarily. It’s clear his daughter is his priority.

“As she should.” I don’t know what else to say.

“So, you see why nothing can happen between us?”

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