Stone Cold Fox (30)

I don’t understand how I can be so lucky, not that I would ever share such a thing out loud. I don’t want to jinx anything, but I’m already sad to leave and it isn’t even time to go yet.

I read constantly, anything I can get my hands on in the library at school, now that I’m in school again, but I let Dean read to me because he seems to enjoy it so much. He’ll read anything I ask him to, even Sweet Valley High, my latest discovery from a bygone era that makes me wish I had a twin of my own. Dean does their voices to make me laugh out loud and it works every time. Elizabeth’s is prim, Jessica’s is wild, both hilariously too deep because Dean is a grown man, enormous really, with puffy hair, big cheeks and a broad smile. Tall and wide. He could be mistaken for a football player even though he’s in tech finance or something; I don’t know the specifics of his work, that’s Mother’s job. To me, he’s an in-house comedian who’s nice to me and lives for getting our laughs. Even Mother laughs at Dean’s jokes and over-the-top theatrics, with this crazy snort I’ve never heard before, so I think it might be genuine. I don’t think Mother would snort otherwise; the behavior is unbecoming.

Maybe she really likes Dean, too. I don’t want to jinx that either, but everything is just better when Mother’s married.

The only thing Dean loves more than cracking jokes is eating rich food. Though he’s a self-proclaimed master of the grill, he doesn’t bother cooking much, since he has the private chef come in pretty regularly. Her name is Beth and she wears pearls and talks to Dean about the Giants. Sometimes she cooks for some of the players. Mother doesn’t cook. She eats like a little bird, tasting everything, only swallowing the smallest amounts of the decadence on the table, and I follow suit, mimicking her every bite, but I always want more. So much more.

“Go on then. Another scoop. Boys like a little meat on a girl’s bones,” Dean booms at me, and he winks at Beth the Chef to put a little more food on my plate. Mother clears her throat, objecting as passively as possible. “Come on, Denise, lighten up,” Dean says. “She’s still growing. You don’t want to give her a complex.”

Dean has just told Mother to lighten up and I slink down in my chair, making myself smaller, excited to see what might happen next. The look on Mother’s face can’t possibly match how she feels inside. She pretends to take it in stride, forcing a thin-lipped smile in Dean’s direction as he chews with a grin of his own, completely unaware of who he married. I’m jealous of how Dean can be himself around Mother. While he still can, anyway.

“But she’s not that hungry.” Mother makes her stance known once more.

She’s talking to Dean, but the message is for me.

I am actually starving, but my body’s used to it by now. Dean doesn’t see that I already have the complex in question, by virtue of being her daughter.

“Oh, knock it off.” Dean chuckles. “There’s truffle in this. Get your money’s worth, kid.” Dean winks at me and I want to please him, so I take a few more luxurious bites of Beth’s truffled potatoes. I don’t even know what truffle is, but I like it.

Mother grimaces at the sight.

“Attagirl, Dani,” Dean praises me.



* * *



? ? ?

“DON’T DO THAT again. You’ll get as big as a house and then what? We’re a team, aren’t we? Or must I do everything myself forever?” Mother calls to me later, watching me head down the hallway to my winding staircase. She’s never said anything to me like that before and I feel my cheeks get really hot. I don’t dare say anything back. I wish Dean heard it, but he’s in his office. I imagine him scolding her like he did at dinner. So free to speak his mind in front of Mother. He stands up for me. Like he wants to protect me.

It makes me want to protect him, too.



* * *



? ? ?

    DEAN’S FUN AND he likes to go out on the weekends, “go on adventures” he calls it and, when appropriate, he insists on taking me with the two of them all over the Bay Area. I’m sure he adores having Mother on his arm, to show her off, but I believe he’s just as tickled to be in my company, too. I can tell that he likes that I’m precocious, in the same way that my teachers seem to appreciate it, using that word specifically.

I’m a novelty to them and I don’t mind the role.

“You’re a real hoot, Danielle,” Dean says. “I get a kick out of you.” He sings the last part because, well, he’s Dean. “Get two scoops of the chocolate,” he urges me at the ice cream parlor. “It’s the best. You’re still a kid, you know,” he reminds me. “Enjoy yourself.” He grins, but I shake my head at him politely. Mother waits outside to see what decision I’ll make without her physically looking over my shoulder, but it doesn’t matter where she is because she’s always in my head. Yes, I want the chocolate ice cream with hot fudge and rainbow sprinkles, like a normal girl, but I want Mother’s approval more. I want her to want me on her team.

“I’ll have the lemon sorbet,” I tell Dean, because I ache to pass her tests, every single one.



* * *



? ? ?

THE LONGER WE live with Dean, the guiltier I feel, which helps with my hunger level. I have a hard time eating when I feel like we’re getting to the end. I think about telling Dean the truth about who we are all the time, but I can’t.