Page 58 of Wanting What’s Wrong

Eight

Cade

“ W here are we going? This dress is crazy ridiculous!” I carry Lennie to the waiting car out in the front of the house, the thousand layers of pink tulle making a phish, phish, phish sound with every step.

“Just keep your eyes shut, little girl.”

I spent the day making plans as she and Mom baked cookies, then I sent them off to town for some girl-time, getting their hair and nails done under the guise of me needing to work here at the house in peace and quiet.

When I showed Lennie the pink dress when they got back, she laughed so hard she got a cramp in her side, but I told her this was one of those times she needed to trust me and do as she was told and put it on.

I’m in a light blue velvet tux with five-inch lapels and a ruffle front shirt, the worst tux I could find at the local formal shop. Seeing me in my getup had tears running down her cheeks again .

“You just be patient.” I set her feet down on the curb and straighten the layers of pink tulle or whatever the fuck it’s called. “Okay, you can open your eyes.”

She opens and yelps on a little bunny hop, her hands clasped over her mouth as I swing open the door on a bow. “What is this! ”

“My lady.” I sweep my hand in an arc as she curtsies and slides into the passenger seat. “This is so ’80’s vibes! I love it! Where the heck are we going dressed like this?”

I close the door of the vintage Rolls and slide behind the wheel, top down, and ease the behemoth of a car into the road with Mom waiving us on from the porch.

“You’ll see. Hold my hand.” I reach over and grab her fingers as we make the short drive back to Beech Street.

“This is just like your favorite car. The first classic car you bought and restored all on your own after your dad passed away.”

“Yep.” I nod.

As soon as we turn the corner, the lights on the front of the high school twinkle. The candles inside the dark building flicker and welcome us along with the sound of Duran Duran.

“Are you freaking kidding me right now?” Her laughter lights up my heart as she bounces in her seat. I park the car and slide over the hood to open her door.

“It’s prom night, baby. You and me and the prom we never had.” As I take her hand, I open the glove box, pull out the most awful carnation and baby’s breath corsage, and pin it on the pink fabric.

“This is not even real.”

I walk hand in hand with her to the open doors. I dropped some huge money to pay off whoever was necessary to give us access to the closed school, then another six figures to have it decorated and set up just like the movie in record time. But it’s all worth it .

Inside, lights hang from the ceiling of the old gymnasium, the scent of roses and every flower I could get delivered in time fills what was a musty old-school gym just a few hours ago.

Right on cue, the music changes, and “I Want to Know What Love Is” comes on as I twirl her onto the center of the dance floor and dip her low, taking a quick bite of her neck before hugging her tight and doing my best 80’s slow dance sway.

We laugh, dance, drink the spiked punch, and eat dry sugar cookies for the next two hours.

I bend her over in the corner of the gym, flip that pink nightmare of a dress up over her head and deep dick her to some Lionel Richie and Spandau Ballet until she’s singing, screaming, laughing, and loving every second of it. I never want this night to end.

“You’re mine, baby. Forever. You know that, right? You’re never getting away.”

“I don’t want to get away. I just don’t want you to ever—”

She tucks her chin, tapping her fingers which—in Lennie-language, means something is hurting her.

“What? Don’t want me to what?”

“I don’t know. You to figure out I’m not everything you want and leave. My dad didn’t want me. My mom sort of didn’t want me for a long time, then when she did, she left anyway. And you? What if—”

I kiss away the question. Dancing with my lips on hers to Stairway to Heaven until there’s no more doubt in her little, sweet head.

“I’m never leaving you, baby. There’s nothing you could ever do that would make that happen.”

She leans into my chest, the last of the music fading into the night as she whispers, “I hope that’s true, Daddy. I really do.”