“Sam and I went to the movies last week,” I said. “We had a blast.”
“And when was the last time you went out without your kid and had some fun?” he asked, pointing his spoon at me. “I shouldn’t have to specify the fun without your kid part.”
“What? We have fun together,” I said, defending myself. I placed the pot on the stove and turned on the heat. “Sam’s a cool kid.”
“And so were you,” my dad said. “But I still went out and did stuff without you. Your mother and I used to leave you and your sister with a sitter while we got drunk and went salsa dancing.”
I glowered at him. “You know I’m not going to go do that. Not least because I don’t have anybody to get drunk and go salsa dancing with.”
“You will,” he said. “Or you would, if you started putting yourself out there again.”
I let out a frustrated sigh and grabbed a tin of pasta sauce out of the cabinet, busying myself with opening it so I didn’t have to look at him.
After a couple moments, I heard him put down his applesauce container and walk over to me. He placed a gentle hand on my back.
“You don’t have anything to prove to anyone, sweetheart.”
I glanced up at him. “What does that mean?”
My dad’s gentle blue eyes crinkled at the corners when he gave a slight smile. “All I mean is that it’s okay to not want to do this on your own,” he said. “You don’t have to stick it out like this just to prove you can.”
I was already too emotional from having to leave Sam. I didn’t want to add to that stress by talking to my dad about how freaking lonely I got sometimes.
“What do you guys have planned with Dawn for the week?” I asked, changing the subject.
The concern on my dad’s face didn’t ease, but he took a few steps back to give me some space. I watched him rinse out the empty applesauce container and toss it in the recycling bin.
“Sam wants to go to the Golden Gate Bridge, of course,” Dad said. “Other than that, Dawn said she’d have a full roster of activities planned for us.”
I chuckled. “I suppose it would have been worrying if Dawn had nothing planned,” I said. “But please try and get a little rest while you’re there. It seems unfair that you’re going on vacation but you’ll basically have to be working the whole time.”
He shot me a cheeky grin. “Maybe you’re not the only one who likes hanging out with Sam. Ever think about that?”
“Touché.”
The pot on the stove began to boil, so I poured in some rotini and grabbed another pot to heat up the sauce.
“Listen, kid.” My dad came over and draped his arm over my shoulders. He was a slight man, but still much bigger than me. His arm was heavy. “I want you to have fun on this trip. Do something crazy. Don’t let being a mom mean you can’t enjoy being Skyler.”
I snorted. “I just don’t think I enjoy the same kinds of things I used to, Dad. What if I end up being a big wet towel on the festivities?”
“You won’t,” he assured me, kissing the top of my head. “You’re a good kid. You’re raising a good kid. You deserve a break.”
With a sigh, I untangled myself from him and stepped over to the sink to pour myself a glass of water. After taking a couple gulps, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and smiled.
“He is a good kid, isn’t he?” I said. “I think that’s what makes leaving harder.”
“But he’ll still be a good kid when you get back,” Dad said. “And you’ve got years and years of time ahead of you to spend together. You’ve only got this weekend in Vegas. Besides, it might be good for you two to get some time away from each other.”
I narrowed my eyes slightly. “I know you’re probably right, but I still don’t like the thought of him needing time away from me at five years old.”
“You overthink everything.” Dad plucked a wooden spoon out of the jar on the counter and started to stir the bubbling pasta sauce. “It makes you miss the important things.”