“And?” Parker asked.
She went into the downstairs powder room to check out her reflection. “I guess it’ll do.”
“You guess it’ll do?”
“No, it’s nice. Thanks, Daddy,” she said as she leaned up on her tiptoes to give him a kiss on the cheek.
That familiar pang of loss gripped my heart. I’d always wanted a daughter. I pasted a smile on my lips and told my heart to be glad for the healthy son I did have. Goodness knew I’d worked hard enough to get him.
Cassidy jerked at the dress in her attempt to get it off.
“Whoa!” I said. “You need to be careful. This is more of a temporary fix that will only work if you don’t wear this dress that often.”
She slowed down, and Parker helped her get the dress over her shoulders.
“Sorry!” she said.
“Tell Miss Vivian thank you, too,” Parker said.
“Oh, I didn’t—”
“Thanks, Miss Viv!” Cassidy tackled me with a fierce hug and then raced back up the stairs.
“Wow. She doesn’t hug just anyone, you know,” Parker was saying. “You’ve really made an impression.”
“Hopefully a good one.”
“Well, you’ve made a good impression on me. Thank you so much for helping me out with my little conundrum. Usually I google things and muddle through, but this project had me at a loss.”
“Oh, you did all the work. Thanks for letting me make a video.”
“I would say ‘anytime’ to that, but I don’t think I want to be a YouTube sensation,” he said with a self-deprecating smile. I had a feeling he was going to be popular, whether he wanted to be or not.
“Miss Vivian?”
I looked up at the top of the stairs where Cassidy stood. “Yes?”
“Can I show my friends the video when you’re done with it?”
I looked to Parker, who nodded. I rarely cursed in my videos, so I could see no harm in it. The preteen set would be bored in minutes. Or laughing at the old lady in seconds.
“Sure, baby.”
“What’s your channel?”
“The Mom Scouts.”
“What’s it about?” she asked, with more enthusiasm than I would’ve expected from a teen.
“Well, when I was little, my mom wouldn’t let me be in Girl Scouts. She had to work irregular hours and knew she’d have a hard time getting me to meetings. She never said so, but I think money was tight, too. Sooooo I decided to create my own merit badges of life.”
“Oh. My mom can’t take me to things, either, because she died when I was seven.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said.
“I’m used to it. Mostly.” She shrugged. “But I miss her.”
“I bet you do,” I said. For half a second I missed my own mother, but then I remembered how we really weren’t speaking since she’d retired to Florida. I felt a twinge of relief that I didn’t have to chat with Mom every day. Then guilt came to pay a visit. Here I was with a living mother, and poor Cassidy had none.
