Page 28 of Heartstring

“Thanks, Dad.”

She releases me and steals a pepper from the salad. The pasta better be done soon, or there won’t be anything to go with it.

“Does this mean you’re starting to settle here?”

She frowns. “I don’t know. It’s hard, Dad. Everyone here has a big family, a dog, grandparents, and they all know each other. I’m like the poor orphan looking at them through the window.”

I sigh. “I’m sorry, honey. I wish it was different. You know what I do is to protect you, right?”

“It still sucks. In Vermont, we don’t have to pretend. I can be with my uncles and Bastian’s family, and I can see my friends without hiding who my dad is.”

The oven dings, so I take the pasta out. “How about we have dinner and then watch a movie together?”

“Okay. I’m just going to put my stuff in my bedroom.” She stops at the kitchen door. “Hey, Dad, there’s this school project…”

“Does it involve me making a volcano out of papier-mâché?”

“No.” She rolls her eyes. “It’s an after-school thing where we help people in the community.”

Her words remind me of Tyler. Geoff said he runs the soup kitchen, and for the first time, I wonder what brought Tyler here from the West Coast, running a soup kitchen of all things.

“Dad?”

“Sorry, what was that?”

“I asked if it’s okay that I join the project.”

“Will it break any of our rules?”

She thinks about it. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Well, in that case, I think it’s a good thing for you to get involved in.”

“Okay.” She runs upstairs, unknowingly leaving me twisted into more knots than I thought I’d ever get.

I dish the food between two plates, leaving the leftovers on the side. My baby girl is growing up too fast, and I’m not ready.

I need to talk to someone about this, but I don’t want to betray her trust. She’ll come out to her uncles in her own time, but who do I talk to about being the parent of a teenager who might be ready to bring her first girlfriend home at some point in the not-so-distant future?

My phone rings and Bastian’s name comes up.

“Hey, B. What’s up?”

“Hey, man. Just checking on you and Princess Mayhem.”

The noises from upstairs tell me I have about five minutes before Kay comes down.

“We’re good, I think. You know how it is with teenagers. Life as they know it ends about five times a day.”

He laughs. “Yeah, I guess she can't be bought with concert tickets and trips abroad.”

“That shit doesn’t cut with Kay, and you know it.”

“She’s a one-of-a-kind kid, that’s for sure.”

I smile. She really is. Smart, feisty, takes no shit from anyone. Sometimes I wish I was a little more like her.

“What else is up?” Bastian asks.