Dancing With the Devil Read Free

father’s chiseled face pinch into a grimace. She retied the bow and placed the case back under her napkin. She then counted out thirty-two strands of pasta as she placed them in a neat pile on her plate and cut one meatball into perfect quarters.
    â€œUm,” said Barb, wiping her mouth and putting her napkin down. “Isn’t anyone going to ask me how my day was?”
    Lily looked up at her mom. “Yes, Mama! I will! How was your day flying on the airplane two times? How far away is—is—what is that town called again, Mama?”
    â€œCanada. It’s a whole entire country, sweetheart.” Barb folded her arms and smiled. “I got the promotion!”
    Lily clapped her hands and kneeled on the chair to kiss her mom. Then she burst into tears.
    â€œOh, sweetie, what’s wrong? Aren’t you happy Mama’s got a big new job?” Barb said, comforting Lily.
    â€œBut you won’t be here anymore! Who’s gonna take care of me?”
    â€œI won’t travel much more than I do now. And I’ll be home after school most days. Don’t you remember you’re going to help me decorate my home office?” Barb said. “I’ll only go to Canada sometimes, and Kenzie will be here, and Daddy. You’re going to be a big kindergarten girl next year, and go to school for the whole day!”
    Stan mumbled a congratulations and something about how they could use more income to pay for the higher fees at the country club.
    â€œCongrats, Barb,” Mac said. “When do you start?”
    Barb nodded her head toward Lily and suggested they talk about something less dramatic for now.
    Stan made a big deal of clearing his throat and said, “As I was trying to tell you before I was interrupted, I got a new name for my collection. There was a little salon in the town where I stopped for gas on my way back. And this one’s a doozy: A Breath of Fresh Hair. I mean, I thought Shear Delight was bad, if only for the sappy factor. But A Breath of Fresh Hair has got to be the worst. I love it.”
    Mackenzie rolled her eyes. “Whoever heard of collecting bad hair salon puns, anyway?”
    Her father frowned. “How about everyone who is a member of Shairpuns.com, that’s who,” he said.
    â€œYou have got to be kidding me,” Mac said. “Why don’t you collect something normal, like stamps, or, hey, I know—better dance moves.”
    He said, “I don’t know what you have against practicing for the dance, honey. Unless you’re jealous. But Lily and I are going to practice just as much as we did when it was your turn.” He took a swig of his beer, the foam collecting on his upper lip. He licked it off and gave Mac a look. “You loved it. You loved the fireworks, and the barbecue, and the whole thing.”
    â€œI have absolutely no idea what you are talking about,” Mac said. “I hated that dance, and you know why.”
    Stan shook his head and sighed. “Oh, here we go.” He clenched his fist, then slowly spread his fingers out, his palm down on the table. “Like I’ve told you, I wasn’t the one who lost your dress.”
    â€œYou’re so silly, Kenzie,” Lily said in her best imitation of exasperation. “You can’t hate the Father-Daughter Dance! Everyone in the whole wide world loves it!”
    â€œWell, I don’t, Lilybean. In fact, I totally hate the Fourth of July.”
    Barb looked up from the meatball she was cutting with her fork. “Really? I mean, I know losing your dress was hard, but what’s to hate about the Fourth of July?”
    Mac shrugged. “I can only take so much fake rah-rah.”
    Lily asked, “What’s ‘fake rah-rah,’ Kenzie?”
    â€œI said, I wasn’t the one who lost it,” Stan insisted.
    â€œYeah, right, Dad.”
    â€œWhat is ‘fake rah-rah’?” Lily asked, louder