I stared at him, stunned.

He wasn’t done. I knew this when he kept talking, or more like rumbling out each word.

“And you’ll get used to bein’ my woman and I’ll explain what that means. I’ll take shit but my woman won’t,” he leaned in and finished, “ever. Not people feedin’ it to her directly and not indirectly through me.”

I didn’t say a word.

But my mind was whirling.

Never.

Never in my life, outside my father and my brother, had a man stood up to protect me. Not like that.

Never.

Finally I found my voice and I found it to ask, “Are we kinda fighting about how we’re in love and you’re gonna take care of me?”

“Warning, Dusty, I’m pissed Audrey has, in Audrey’s way, thrown down in a preliminary to whatever game she’s settin’ me up to force me to play when we do not need her shit. I’m not in the mood for you to be funny.”

I pressed my lips together.

Then, stupidly but correctly, I blurted, “Just to clear something up from earlier. I’m thinking it’s probably not gonna happen, me getting a wild hair and going riverboat gambling with Rhonda. I can barely get her out of her bedroom. I doubt I could get her down to the Ohio River.”

Mike glared at me.

“Though, she’s practically catatonic,” I went on unwisely in the face of his fierce scowl, “I could prop her on one of those wheelie things and get her in front of a video poker machine but I don’t know why I’d expend that effort. If I wanna go gambling, I’ll hit the internet, buy cheap tickets and you and I’ll have a weekend in Vegas.”

Mike said not a word.

I kept going.

“Though, I’ve never been on a riverboat and I like gambling. Maybe we should plan to do that.”

Mike spoke.

“I’m thinkin’ maybe now’s the time to shut up.”

I pressed my lips together.

This lasted a second.

Then out came, “An FYI, you’re hot when you’re pissed. Like, off the charts hot. This, I think, does not bode well for me should someday I be pissed in return.”

Mike continued to glower at me.

I took my hand from his arm and wrapped my arms around his middle, pressing myself to him even as he kept his arms crossed on his chest.

Tipping my head way back, I whispered, “Talk to me.”

“Talkin’ to you would be you takin’ on my shit.”

I gave him a squeeze and repeated my whispered, “Talk to me.”

He held my eyes.

This lasted a while.

Luckily, I was patient.

Finally, he talked to me.

“She dicks with me, she dicks with my kids. I can try to hide it but they soak that shit up like they’re sponges. We had a détente. It was fucked but it was working. No settled, stopped focusin’ on his Mom and me and started to be what he is. A kid in high school, doin’ his homework, playin’ ball, practicin’ with his band. His smiles came quick. The teases he’d shoot at his sister easy. Whatever was up with Reesee wasn’t about me or her Mom. It was about Reesee. I don’t want them back there. Watchful, guarded, preparing, powerless to look out for me but wanting to do it all the same. I do not want, in ten years, twenty, them to look back at a time which should be golden and think of their Mom and my shit. I want them to be kids.”

God, he was such a good Dad.

But it was time to clue him in.

So I did.

“What was up with Rees was about her Mom, honey.”

He blinked and his frame jerked slightly.

“Pardon?”

“It still is,” I continued.

He uncrossed his arms and his hands settled at my waist but his eyes never left me.

“Explain,” he ordered.

“Yesterday was horses, makeup and mall but she clued me in, babe, about where she is and why she’s there. No’s talents are very visible, obvious, you see them, you hear them. Basketball, music. Rees’s have yet to be discovered. She feels overshadowed by him but No’s not doing this intentionally. My guess is, she doesn’t have the attention of her mother and she’s internalizing that. She’s thinking she’s done something to take it away or is someone who doesn’t deserve it. She’s shy, she has absolutely no idea of her beauty and that’s crazy. And I say that from what I’ve seen her getting in this house from you and her brother. She’s loved. She’s safe. She’s free to be who she is here. So something is holding her back, holding her down. And the one negative force in her life is her Mom. And I know this because her Mom didn’t help her learn how to put on makeup.”

“Makeup?” Mike asked and I nodded.

Then, carefully, I asked back, “Did you talk to her about her period?”

Mike’s eyes flashed and his mouth got tight but he didn’t answer so I decided to take that as a no.

Still carefully, I continued, “Did her Mom?”

“No clue,” he forced out.

“That’s not good,” I whispered, “When did she start?”

Mike held my eyes a moment then he shared, “About four months ago.”

“And you know this because…?”

“No found some shit in the bathroom and told me.”

That meant he had no clue about that either. That “shit” could have been there months prior and Rees hid it.

“Who bought it for her?” I pressed.

“No clue,” Mike repeated.

“Who supplies her now?” I kept going and Mike’s eyes flashed again.

He didn’t know.

Shit!

I pressed closer and told him gently, “My Mom taught me how to put on makeup, honey. I know all Moms don’t because my friend Gretchen’s sister did it with her and I had another friend who learned on her own and the results weren’t great. She had no sister and her Mom worked full-time. Finally, Gretchen and I took her in hand. But my Mom taught me. And we talked about that time in a girl’s life, several times. She was open with me, made it safe to talk to her about so when I needed something or had questions or felt shit because I had cramps, I could talk to her. The vast majority of her time, Rees is living with two men and if her Mom is normally like she was at Rees’s party then that is not a safe place for her to go. This means she may or may not be getting info from her friends who may or may not have started their periods. At that age, they are not good sources of information.” I pushed even closer and finished, “And this is the beginning. She’s got a boy interested in her now and she really does not need for her only sources of information about important life stuff being fourteen and fifteen year old girls who have no clue.”

 “Fuck,” Mike whispered and there was a whole lot of feeling in that one word.

Gently, I kept going, “So, in a girl’s life, now is the time she really needs her Mom so now would be the time when she would most feel it if she doesn’t really have one. And it’s just a guess but that guess would be now, she’s feeling that and that’s why she’s been under a cloud.”

“And that’s why it’s lifted because you’re here,” Mike surmised immediately.

“I hope so,” I replied. “I made it clear I was there to talk to and have all the time in the world for her. She opened up to me and I could tell it wasn’t easy but I could also tell she was glad she did it. Yesterday, she seemed even less uptight. I’m a woman, I got that part covered. I’ll find a time, feel her out and if she needs it, sort her out. Where it gets hairy is that I need her to trust me and I also need to clue you in. If she thinks I’m going to run to you to tell you everything she says, she’s gonna clam up. But you also need to know where she is. So you’re going to need to give me guidance about where you want me to guide her, understand that some shit will be just between me and Rees, trust me to do right by her but share with you what you need to know and let me do my best with that balancing act.”

“I trust you.”

This response was again immediate. It was gratifying but I wasn’t certain it was the right one.

I gave him a squeeze and said softly, “Mike, this is your daughter and I haven’t known –”

His hands slid around to lock me in his arms and he gave me a squeeze, cutting me off. “Dusty, she is my daughter and I trust you. My guess is you’ve been gettin’ your period a while now so clearly you’re more an authority on that than me. I love my girl, we’re close but she’s never gonna come to me with that shit and you might think this is fucked, but I’m not only glad about that, I’m relieved. The rest of it, honey, the way you turned out, I am not stressed about. You guide her to bein’ her version of a woman like you, smart, funny, self-reliant, strong, sweet, warm, loving, I’m totally down with that.”

I stared up at him, nose tingling and warned, “You’re gonna make me cry again.”

He grinned, gave me another arm squeeze and dropped his head to touch his mouth to mine.

When he lifted it, he ordered, “Don’t. We got sandwiches to eat. Then we gotta get, dressed, get to the DQ, get cake, get home and you gotta deliver on your promise to kiss me all over. We don’t have time for you start bawling again. We got important shit to do.”

He was right.

So I told him that.

His grin became a smile and his arms left me as he issued another order, “I’ll get plates, you get me a Dr. Pepper.”

“Done,” I agreed, turning to the fridge. “But I don’t need a plate. We can eat at the counter.”

“Pure Dusty,” he muttered.

“What?” I asked into the opened fridge.

“Nothin’, sweetheart,” he kept muttering.

I let it go because whatever he was muttering he was doing it with a smile in his voice. I got him a Dr. Pepper, me a diet one of the same and met him at the counter. Mike got a bag of Chili Cheese Fritos and ripped it open.