Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 112961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
She flops onto the couch dramatically. “We drove everywhere. We went to the dry cleaners and to drop some things off at the post office for Abuelita and then to Mom’s nail appointment. I forgot my book, so she let me watch videos on my phone and we ordered Chinese food.”
Guilt—my constant weekend-only-parent companion—raises its ugly head.
“I’m sorry, Sass.”
“It’s okay. I got my nails painted.” She holds up a hand and wiggles her pink-tipped fingers. Stevie will pick pink everything if given the opportunity. “And I know you’re super important at your job.”
I sit on the coffee table facing her. “There were some things that couldn’t wait until Monday.”
“I bet they were a really big deal,” she says slyly. “You have the best ideas and make the best documentaries.”
I’m suspicious. Much like her mother, Stevie is a master negotiator. The problem is that I rarely know we’re negotiating until I’ve already agreed to something. “What’s the angle?”
“No angle. You’re just really cool, that’s all.” She pauses. “But I almost forgot!” She sits up, miraculously rejuvenated. “Wonderland is coming here!”
Wonderland, Stevie’s current obsession, is a pop group that’s taken over every chart and award show in the country. For birthdays, Christmas, and every minor holiday involving a basket, treat, or wrapped parcel, Stevie has asked for Wonderland merchandise. The members’ faces are on so many of her T-shirts I could spot them in a crowd without any trouble.
“Coming here as in for a concert?”
“Yes! Could we go? Please?” She takes both my hands in hers and makes her eyes as wide as moons. “It could be for my birthday.”
“Your birthday was in January. It’s May.”
“Hmm,” she says, recalibrating. “If I get straight A’s?”
“You already get straight A’s.”
Her wry expression says it clearly: Exactly. A sucker, I am. I pull out my phone. “Okay. Where are they playing?”
Stevie’s vibrating intensity dials up. “The Open Air!”
“Calm down,” I say gently. “I’m only looking. Did you talk to your mum about this?”
“She said it’s fine if you take me.”
“Of course she did.” When the site loads, a giant banner fills the top of the page: WONDERLAND: THE FORBIDDEN GAME TOUR. “A title like ‘Forbidden Game’ leaves me with many questions.”
Stevie rolls her eyes. “Dad.”
I scroll down to the San Diego dates and spot the red SOLD OUT flag over the buy link. I turn the screen to show her, and she immediately deflates.
“I’m sorry, Sass. Maybe next time round? Besides, it doesn’t even start till eight and you’re dead asleep by eight thirty.” Her bottom lip juts out and I bend to meet her eyes. “We’ll check if it’s streaming and maybe we can watch together.”
She’s disappointed, but rallies anyway. “Can we get tour shirts and order pizza?”
“Absolutely. Now go fetch your stuff so we can go.”
She leaps off the couch, long, coltish limbs propelling her to the stairs. I swear she’s taller than when I saw her on Sunday. The dog races behind her.
“Where is your mum, by the way?” I call after her.
“She was outside. Insu is building a shed in the garden and she’s watching.” She looks down at me from the top of the stairs. “He’s really strong.”
“I’ve noticed.”
Insu is Natalia’s boyfriend. He’s twenty-six… so there’s that. It took us a few years to iron out the kinks of divorced co-parenthood, but the care and respect we show each other now is better than when we were married. Watching Nat fall in love again eased a weight I hadn’t fully realized I was carrying. Having that person practically be a teenager (a slight exaggeration, but I’m the single one here, so let me have this) is a flavor of joy I couldn’t have anticipated.
Stevie’s footsteps sound overhead and then she falls silent, presumably throwing things into a bag. In the quiet, I pace the living room, and my mind rolls back to my work dilemma.
I could make some hybrid of eco-conscious and reality programming, but the truth is that I don’t really want to bump up against my documentary colleagues in this setting. It’s taken me years to build the credibility I have, and I suspect one adventure race through the jungle will squash all of it in a single go. Besides, Blaine wants something salacious and sexy, and nothing in my current repertoire could be described as such.
I’ll have to think outside my current box. Dating shows have been done ad nauseam, so a new show would need a hook to make it stand out above the rest. I’m an amateur in a very well-traversed space, but the more I sit with it, the more I keep coming back to the idea I had at the bar after hearing the GeneticAlly news. My gut says there’s something there, but I’m still missing a piece…
I find myself in front of one of Nat’s many bookcases. Without question, Stevie got her fangirl genes from her mother, but where my daughter loses her mind over pop stars, Natalia is an avid romance reader. Upon inspection, I register that the shelf before me has over two dozen books all by the same author. I pull one free.