Page 22 of Every Time We Touch

“It’s still quite casual.” He holds up his free hand. “I know I introduced her to you.” He gives a small shake of the head. “Maybe that was more wishful thinking on my part.”

“How do you mean?”

“Maybe I wanted things to go faster than they were. I don’t know. It’s been quite a while since I’ve dated.” He grins. “Maybe I’m just clueless, but I am enjoying myself.”

Obviously, I don’t want to think that one through any further.

“Did Clancy tell you she’s officially my teacher now? I had a two-hour class with her earlier.”

“Yeah. That’s great, honey.” He nods. “I’m so glad you’re making the effort to get to know her.”

“It’s just a dance class,” I say, trying to make it sound as though that’s really all it is. What else would it be?

“She tried to teach me some moves, but you know me. Two left feet.”

Argh. No. I simply can’t fathom Clancy taking my father into a dance hold.

“Remember when I danced with Lauren at her wedding? She pushed me away in the middle of the song.”

“Very rude and typical Lauren.” I smile at the memory. When Dad mock-protested after it happened, all four of us ganged up on him, saying he shouldn’t have raised us to not become people pleasers at all costs. “I’m your dad,” he said. “I’m not just people.”

“Clancy and I are taking the grandkids to Disneyland on Sunday. You’ll miss them at brunch.”

“There’s no brunch. Mom’s on location, shooting the new Avery Hall movie.”

“Oh, right. Yes, of course.” While he follows his ex-wife’s career because they’re friends—they were already more friends than anything else when they were still married—my father is the least up to date on industry news and movie stars of anyone I know in this city. He probably has no clue who Avery Hall is. “Your mom’s really found her thing with this directing gig.”

“She sure has.” It only took her entire professional life to muster the courage to do what she truly wanted—and dating Nora Levine was the confidence boost she needed to get there.

“How about you, honey? Are you still thinking about selling?” He tilts his head. “Have you had any offers?”

“A few.” I’ve had offers since the app launched, when Fluxx was still the only one of its kind. “But it’s a hard thing to let go of, somehow. Even though… I don’t have the same zest for it anymore. It used to bring me such joy to work on it, but I haven’t experienced that in a while.”

“Of course it’s hard. You came up with the idea and then you built it from scratch. I’m very proud of you, in case I haven’t mentioned it in a while.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Do you know what you’d like to do instead? Any ideas?”

I shake my head. “Zero.” For someone who’s used to having a head full of ideas all the time, perhaps this is the most disconcerting.

“Ah.” My dad knows me well. “Maybe that’s the scariest bit of all.” He nods. “And you feel like you can’t sell Fluxx as long as you don’t have a plan for what to do next.”

“I do come from a family of notorious workaholics,” I say.

“Were we that bad?” He knits his gray eyebrows together.

“No,” I say, truthfully. “Not really.” Even though, in hindsight, my parents’ marriage wasn’t traditional, it did feel like it was to me. Mom knew she was gay, but she married Dad because she wanted a big family. And they always both worked.

“Is it money?” Dad asks. “I can help with that.”

“No, I’m good for money, Dad.” He probably has no idea how much his girlfriend charges for an hour of her expertise—she’s worth every single penny.

“Do you want to brainstorm some ideas? If that’s what is making you the most anxious?”

“I’m not even ready to brainstorm yet. I’m in this weird period where I’m just full of doubt and can’t seem to make up my mind.”

“I think you’ve made up your mind already,” he says. “You’re just afraid to take the next step.”