Free Slow Dancing on Price's Pier by Lisa Dale

the tall, refrigerated pastry case. She had to hold her daughter’s shoulders to make her stand still.
    â€œMr. Cooper and Mr. Gray don’t want to talk right now. They’re here to play chess and complain about coffee. Not to talk to little girls.”
    Irina was petulant. “How do you know?”
    â€œI just do,” she said.
    â€œYou don’t know anything!”
    Thea frowned. Her daughter was never so surly. Thea could only guess that she was upset about having to go visit her father—not because she didn’t want to see him, but because she was reacting to the disconnect and pressure of having to make such a production about going to see the man she once saw every day. The only thing Thea could do was assure her: this would begin to feel more comfortable with time.
    â€œYou’re going to have a nice day today,” she said.
    â€œI know.”
    Thea let Irina go. “Do you have everything you need to go with Uncle Garret? Do you have your backpack?”
    â€œYeeeees.”
    â€œDid you put all your toys in it that you want to bring?”
    â€œYeeeeees.”
    â€œAll right. So there’s nothing to worry about. Stay back here until your uncle gets here, okay? No more going out on to the floor today.”
    Irina pouted.
    â€œUnderstand?”
    â€œYeeeeees, Ma,” she said, and then she found a chair in the corner where she could kick her legs out and sulk. Thea picked up a clipboard and went back to work, counting the number of gallons of milk so that she would know how many more to order.
    A moment later, Claudine was standing beside her. “She’s taking it hard,” she said under her breath.
    â€œShe doesn’t like being away from home.”
    â€œOf course not. She gets it from her mom.”
    Thea glanced at Claudine, not sure what to say. Claudine had never been catty, exactly, but she didn’t mince words. “I like my house,” Thea said. “It’s . . . where I live.”
    Claudine draped an angular arm around her for a moment. “It’s a very nice house.”
    â€œThanks,” Thea said, and rather than reading into Claudine’s odd comment, she put it out of her mind.
    Ten minutes later, Claudine had gone out back for her break and Thea was wrapping a blueberry scone in wax paper when Garret came in, his cell phone pressed to his ear and his mouth seeming to go at a million miles an hour. She swallowed her nervousness. He was wearing khaki shorts, a nice black polo that stretched snugly across his shoulders, and flip-flops. He pushed his dark sunglasses up to rest on the top of his blond hair, then snapped the phone closed.
    â€œWhere’s Irina?” he asked.
    Hello to you too, Thea thought.
    â€œPresent,” Irina called out. She pushed herself off of her chair, slumped forward with cartoonish glumness. Her footfalls were heavy against the tile.
    â€œReady, kid?” Garret asked hopefully. But Irina didn’t so much as smile.
    Thea crouched down and spoke softly. To her dismay, she saw tears swimming in her daughter’s hazel eyes. “Listen to me, sweetheart. You’re not staying there overnight again. You’re just going to go hang out with Daddy for the day. Doesn’t that sound like fun?”
    Her lower lip trembled. “Why can’t you come with us?”
    Thea took Irina’s hand and led her around to the side of the counter where Garret stood waiting. “I bet you and Daddy are doing something really fun today.”
    Irina tugged her hand hard. “But you should come too. I want to see Daddy and you. At the same time.”
    â€œIrina . . .”
    â€œWhy can’t you come with me?”
    Thea faltered, and amazingly enough, she found herself looking to Garret for help. She didn’t expect him to be good with kids—though at one time she’d believed he wanted to be a father—but even a complete numskull would know how to help