Then she added, “Dad said you probably couldn’t make it as nice as the picture.”
I looked at her.
“What did you say?”
“I told him you could.”
She sounded almost apologetic.
I pulled her close, but my relief about the costume had already changed into something heavier.
Emma hadn’t simply chosen the dress she liked.
She’d known her father was preparing to replace it, and she’d been worrying about how I’d feel.
I wanted to call Zach immediately.
Instead, I kissed Emma’s forehead and told her to get ready for bed.
I needed to understand what was going on before I let Emma get caught in another argument between us.
Four days later, I found out there was more.
Emma came home from school and asked whether she could use some old notebooks from last year.
“Of course, if there are enough blank pages. Why?”
Her teacher had sent home a supply list. Emma needed two notebooks, colored pencils, and a folder for a class project.
