The Do-Over(34)

Knocking on her door, “Scarlett, can I come in?”

It took a moment, but finally there was a muffled, “Yeah.”

Lying in bed with Five Seconds of Summer’s Castaway playing on repeat, my heart ached for my little girl and my outrage at Frank’s insensitivity stabbed at my gut.

Sitting down on the bed next to her, I gently stroked her beautiful wavy hair. I could feel her hurt and anger in the silence.

Castaway was playing for the third time before she spoke. “Why did he do this to me, Mom?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know, baby. I’m not inside his head. But it was a stupid, stupid thing to do.” How do you tell a fourteen-year old that her * father can’t stand up to his immature and insecure child bride and is afraid he’ll lose * access?

“I hate him.” The tears rolled down her freckled cheeks.

“Don’t hate him, sweetie. Hate what he did.” Though I knew she had every right to hate him, she’d looked forward to this for months and he’d promised her he would not let her down again. I didn’t want her to have an adversarial relationship with her dad. “So, what if there was a way you could still go to the dance. Would you be interested?”

Lifting her head from her pillow, I could see how swollen her eyes were from crying and in that moment, I hated Frank just a little bit more. “Is Uncle Bryan coming in?”

With a smile, I shook my head. “No. This is a mystery date.”

“A mystery date?” I actually couldn’t tell whether she was intrigued or horrified.

“Yes. A mystery date. Just hear me out, okay.” Scarlett nodded. “He’s father age appropriate. He’s handsome, very cool, has got a great personality, and I know you will totally hit it off with him.”

“Oh God, Mom, you didn’t get him off a dating website or something.” Scarlett’s blue eyes were wide with horror.

Laughing, “No silly. This is someone I know and he’s really psyched to take you on Saturday.”

“Are you going to tell me who it is?”

Shaking my head, I smiled at my daughter. “No. It’s a mystery date.”

“Mom, this better not be embarrassing.” How had she perfected teenage attitude already?

Ruffling her hair, “Just the opposite, my love. You are going to have the hottest, coolest date there.”

“A hint?”

I continued to shake my head, no. Torturing a teen was a fun sport. “So, is that a yes? Shall I tell him the date is on?”

“I guess,” she acquiesced with the obligatory eyeroll.

Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I emailed Wes. It’s a go!

“Okay, here’s what he says,” Tell her I can’t wait to meet her.

Sitting on the couch with a glass of wine after Scarlett had gone to sleep, I tried to sort out my emotions from the day. Frank could pull shit on me, I was an adult, with the emotional fortitude to handle it, but to f*ck over Scarlett that way, well, that was just unconscionable. Was he seriously not standing up to a 25-year old? How hard would it have been to say to her, “You know we can’t go away that weekend, I have Scarlett’s dance.” He seriously couldn’t say that? Dickless ass!

As I brought my wineglass to my lips, I had a thought. Something that was probably as juvenile as Frank’s behavior, but would make me feel better.

Rummaging around my desk drawer I found what I was looking for. I could feel my smile growing as I pulled the bag out.

“Hello, little dolls,” I smiled.

Pulling the male doll from the bag. “Hello, Frank doll. Well this is apropos, because this doll is not anatomically correct. It’s missing a dick. And balls. Just like the real Frank. Because you’ve turned into quite the dickless motherf*cker.”

Opening the pin box, I looked at all the colorful heads on the pins. “Hmm, which color fits the circumstance. Is there a pink one? Because you are * whipped, my friend. So, the pink pin it is.”

Putting the doll down on the desk, I took the pink pin and stabbed the poppet between the legs. “If you had a dick, I just stabbed it.” I pulled the pin out and stabbed it again in the same spot, just for good measure.

“Take that, you loser.” I told the doll before putting it back in the bag and returning it to the desk drawer.

With a final sip of my wine, I felt much, much better.



“Hi sweetie,” I answered my cell late the next afternoon. “What’s up?”

“Mom, you’re never going to believe this.” The excitement in Scarlet’s voice was at full throttle.

“What? Tell me.”

“I just got a package.”

“From who?” I started closing down files on my computer.

“From him.”

I laughed. I still wasn’t getting it. “Him who?”

“My date. It’s from my mystery date.”

“What did he send?” I packed my laptop into its case.

“It’s so unbelievably cool. It’s a picture frame that looks like a cell phone. And he stuck a post-it note on it that says, We need to take one badass selfie for this. It’s like literally the cutest thing ever, Mom.”

“It sounds it!” I couldn’t believe how Wes was going out of his way to create a wonderful occasion for Scarlett. The man was blowing my mind.