Dad's Girlfriend and Other Anxieties Read online

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication data is on file with the publisher.

  Text copyright © 2022 by Kellye Crocker

  First published in the United States of America in 2022

  by Albert Whitman & Company

  ISBN 978-0-8075-1421-4 (hardcover)

  ISBN 978-0-8075-1422-1 (ebook)

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Printed in the United States of America

  10987654321LB2625242322

  Jacket art copyright © 2022 by Albert Whitman & Company

  Jacket art by Simini Blocker

  Design by Aphelandra

  For more information about Albert Whitman & Company,

  visit our website at www.albertwhitman.com.

  For Mike,

  whose heart is bigger

  than a fourteener

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Acknowledgments

  Ava should have been happy. She’d finished sixth grade an hour earlier and was eating a hot fudge sundae—her absolute favorite food—with her two very-besties, Kylie and Emma. She should have been happy, and she was. Just not happy happy.

  Because: Colorado.

  Obviously.

  Ow. Ava pressed her hand to her forehead. Brain freeze. Who could blame her for wolfing it down? Shorty’s served the perfect ratio of hot fudge to cold vanilla. Plus: Ava didn’t want it to melt. The afternoon was a scorcher—way too hot and muggy, even for Iowa in early June. The girls had been lucky to snag an umbrella table on the crowded patio.

  Ava wasn’t going to worry about tomorrow. For now she was going to enjoy her sundae and listen to Emma complain about her big sister.

  “She’s into country music all of a sudden,” Emma was saying, “and not good country—oh!—and she’s started leaving her toothpaste spit in the sink.”

  “Ugh,” Ava said.

  “Gross,” Kylie agreed.

  “Right?” Emma looked at Ava. “How did your dad get a Colorado girlfriend anyway?”

  Ava straightened. So much for not thinking about it. That was the question of the year. Dad worked at home but occasionally visited out-of-state suppliers. Somehow, he’d gone to Denver for work and ended up with a girlfriend.

  “How does anyone get a girlfriend?” Ava raised her hands. “Amazon?”

  It was a joke but it made as much sense as anything.

  “Ha! Two-day delivery.” Kylie took a bite of banana split. “Delish.”

  Emma waggled her spoon at Ava. “You always get the same thing,” she grumbled, as if having a favorite sundae were a character flaw. Emma had ordered the “build your own,” selecting caramel ice cream, blueberry topping, and corn chips.

  “Ava knows what she likes,” Kylie said. She stared at Emma a beat too long, as if sending a silent reminder that Ava was different now. If treated too roughly, she might crack like a glass doll.

  These looks between them had started a month ago. After the horror show that was Field Day. After Dr. C. had diagnosed Ava with an anxiety disorder.

  Ava was glad her friends cared about her, if that’s what the looks meant. But their worries made Ava worry more.

  “Was it a dating app?” Kylie stretched across the table to swipe one of Emma’s chips.

  “Why are you guys so interested?” Ava asked.

  “Because it’s interesting,” Emma said. She dipped a chip into Ava’s hot fudge.

  “And romantic,” Kylie said. “We’ve always known you with your dad.”

  Ava’s fingers settled on her watch, which had belonged to her mother. “That’s not changing.” In the distance, three bicyclists followed a trail into the woods.

  “It’s kind of big news,” Kylie said. “I heard the lunch ladies talking about it.”

  “You did?” Ava leaned forward. “What did they say?”

  “That there are slim pickins around here for someone your dad’s age. If you think about it, a lot of people are too old or too young or married already.”

  Ava hadn’t thought about it. She and Dad lived in a small town surrounded by farms and smaller towns. Had he been lonely?

  “They said they were glad he’d found someone,” Kylie said.

  “That makes it sound—”

  “If they got married, you’d probably be in the wedding,” she continued. “Maybe we could be in it with you?”

  “Wait a minute.”

  “For your sake,” Emma said, “I hope her daughter rinses her toothpaste spit.”

  “Holy guacamole,” Ava whispered. “Do you think this is serious?”

  “If it was a weekend trip, maybe not?” Kylie glanced at Emma, who nodded.

  Ava shut her eyes for a moment. She still couldn’t believe Dad was making her spend fourteen days with two strangers. In a state that overflowed with danger. Ava had started researching Colorado a week ago, as soon as she’d learned about their trip. She’d been so focused on safety, she hadn’t considered the bigger picture. Was this relationship serious?

  “Can we see her?” Kylie tapped her phone and slid it across the table. Because: Ava was the only human in the universe who didn’t own a phone.

  Ava found one of The Girlfriend’s socials and pushed the phone back.

  “Wow.” Kylie looked up.

  Ava’s stomach dropped. “What?”

  “She’s hot.”

  Emma ran to Kylie’s side of the table. “It’s true,” she confirmed. “Ava, your dad has a hot Colorado girlfriend.”

  “Stop,” Ava moaned, covering her face with her hands. Other than The Girlfriend’s long, honey-colored hair, she looked like most moms Ava knew.

  “Oh, wow,” Kylie said.

  “What now?” Ava was already rounding the table.

  Dad and The Girlfriend squished together on a boulder. Mountains, Colorado’s most hazardous feature, hulked behind them. The Girlfriend’s hand rested on Dad’s knee. Dad’s arm wrapped around her shoulders. She smiled at the camera. He smiled at her.

  Emma took the phone. “My sister says if a guy likes three of your posts in a row, it means he wants to kiss you.”

  Ava wiped her palms on her shorts. “Did he do three?”

  Emma shook her head.

  Ava exhaled.

  “I mean,” Emma said, “he liked them all.”

  When did Dad have time for social media?

  “Hey,” Emma said. “Is this Mackenzie?”

  Ava had never seen a picture of The Girlfriend’s daughter, who also was twelve. “She’s a reader too!” Dad had said, sounding like a hyper used-car salesman on TV. The girl in the picture wasn’t reading, though. She
was sitting—on nothing but air, one hand gripping a skateboard under her feet. Her long dark-purple hair stood straight up behind her helmet.

  “That’s amazing,” Kylie said. “It has to be her, right?”

  Emma gave Ava a playful shove. “You’re going to have fun!”

  Ava trudged back to her seat. Her remaining ice cream had softened, and the hot fudge had cooled. Emma, though, had barely touched hers. “Didn’t you like it?” Ava asked.

  “It was okay,” Emma said, but she wrinkled her nose and shook her head no, which cracked them up.

  It was a small win for Ava’s hot fudge sundae. Shorty’s was far away, and Emma had wasted her once-a-year visit on something new and strange. Sure, some people might think vanilla ice cream topped with hot fudge was basic. You know what else it was? Delicious. Ava’s life was like a hot fudge sundae. Simple, sweet, and exactly as she liked it. If Dad was in love with someone in Colorado, that would ruin everything. Ava couldn’t imagine it was true, but she intended to find out.

  On most school days Ava rode the bus home. She usually found Dad bent over his laptop with Mouse snoozing at his feet. But the last day of school was special. The last day of elementary school was super special. Dad and Mouse were a two-member welcome-home party, waving and wagging from the driveway. It wasn’t safe for them to stand there. Kylie’s mom’s van could hit them. In fact, Ava almost hoped it did—but only Dad. She didn’t want him to get hurt. But if a gentle van bump sprained his ankle, say, maybe he’d cancel their trip tomorrow.

  Kylie’s mom eased alongside Dad with the precision of a pro racecar driver.

  “Look at those sixth-grade graduates!” Dad peered into the van. “Hey, where’s mine?”

  Their tradition of celebrating the last day of school at Shorty’s had started in kindergarten. So had Dad’s goofy joke.

  Kylie’s mom got out to hug Dad. “Our little girls are growing up,” she said.

  She and Ava’s mom had been friends since childhood. They had been thrilled to be pregnant at the same time. When Ava’s mom died shortly after giving birth, Kylie’s mom made sure to arrange regular play dates—to give Dad a break, but also to spend time with her best friend’s daughter. Ava and Kylie’s friendship had grown as they did. They were proud second-gen BFFs.

  Ava grabbed her backpack. “I’ll call you as soon as I get home,” she said.

  If she didn’t get struck by lightning. Or eaten by a bear. Or sick from the too-thin air.

  “You’ll be okay,” Kylie said.

  Mouse barked and danced as if Ava had been gone forever.

  “Poor guy,” Dad said. “He was confused when you didn’t get off the bus.”

  As Ava headed toward the house, she turned one last time to wave goodbye.

  “Have fun!” Emma shouted.

  Ava dropped her backpack in the entryway and hugged Mouse.

  “How was your last day?” Dad asked.

  “Fine.” Her heart raced. She had to ask. Ava straightened and took a breath. “Um…Dad? Is it serious with you and”—she could not say “The Girlfriend”—“you and Jenn?”

  “What do you mean?” His pale cheeks went pink.

  “You know.” This was so embarrassing.

  “You’re my number one, Ava, and always will be. You know that, right? I think you’ll really like Jenn and Mackenzie.” Dad tapped her arm. “Come help with the salad.”

  He hadn’t really answered her question. Had he dodged it on purpose? Maybe Ava could ask him again later. For now, it seemed best to move on.

  “Why can’t I stay with Mrs. Mendez or Grandmom?” she asked, trailing him into the kitchen.

  Ava loved visiting her grandparents and Uncle Steve—her mom’s parents and brother—at their organic dairy farm a short drive away. But when Dad traveled during the school year, Ava and Mouse stayed with Mrs. Mendez. The school bus stopped right in front of her house across the street, and Grandmom was allergic to dogs.

  “This feels so sudden,” Ava added. Since she’d started seeing Dr. C., Ava had learned she didn’t do well with change and needed extra time for transitions.

  Dad sighed. “You’ve had a whole week to think about it.”

  A pile of bright-green lettuce leaves sat on the counter. Ava picked up a handful and ran it under the tap. Her stomach hurt. Did she have food poisoning? Could hot fudge go bad?

  “Remember what Dr. C. said? Too much time isn’t good, either.” Dad peeled a carrot. “And what about avoiding stressful situations? What did she say about that, Baby Ava Girl?”

  Now Ava sighed. “It makes them worse,” she mumbled.

  “That’s right.” He turned to look at her. “Traveling, meeting people—those are all a part of life. Colorado is beautiful. It’ll be good for you to see more of the country.”

  Ava didn’t want to see more. She wanted to stay home where she belonged, with her dog, her friends, and her family. This was a truth as strong as gravity.

  Spongy bits of black soil clung to the lettuce. This morning, it had been growing happily in the backyard.

  “Did you know cute little ground squirrels can kill you?” Ava had uncovered this horrifying fact during her class’s last media center session.

  Dad stopped mid-slice into the carrot. “What?”

  “They can give you plague, Dad. You have a fifty-fifty chance of dying. Well, if you don’t go to the doctor—but, still.”

  Dad set down his knife. “What are you talking about?”

  “Colorado!” Wasn’t he listening? “It’s super dangerous!”

  “I’d never put you in danger, Ava.” He frowned. “Wait—have you been trying to find dangerous things in Colorado?”

  If she had, it wouldn’t have been difficult. “I’ve been learning about it.”

  It wasn’t Ava’s fault the state was so terrible.

  Dad removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. “All places have dangers.”

  “But the mountains are bad—they’re like magnets for danger,” Ava said. “Even Denver—it doesn’t have mountains, but the air is too thin. Did you know it’s called the Mile High City? You can get sick—”

  “Stop.”

  “And die. The air can kill you, Dad.”

  Dad returned his glasses to his face. “Ava, are you feeling anxious?”

  The question put her whole self on red alert. Dr. C. had said it was important for Ava to learn to identify her feelings and name them. But she talked about feelings like they were Legos, easy to recognize and sort by size, shape, and color. Ava’s feelings were like Dad’s Mystery Soup—a bubbling mishmash.

  “How about some belly breathing?” Dad asked. Since learning the relaxation technique, he thought it was the answer to everything.

  “I don’t need belly breathing.” Ava stomped her foot. “I just need to stay home!”

  VERY IMPORTANT NOTEBOOK

  Property of: Ava Louise Headly

  Belly Breathing

  Place a hand on your belly.

  Inhale slowly through your nose, imagining that your belly is a balloon filling with air.

  Hold breath 2 seconds.

  Exhale slowly.

  Hold 2 seconds.

  Repeat.

  The best day of summer vacation was the first day. But instead of letting Ava enjoy her freedom, Dad had jostled her awake before sunrise so they could drive two hours to the airport to catch their plane to horrible Colorado. Now, as they were about to land, Ava felt strange—hot but cold. A bit tingly. Somewhat buzzy.

  This trip made no sense. This was Dad. Practical, responsible, and sort of boring. Dad, whose idea of a good time was catching a catfish bigger than Uncle Steve’s. The thought of him falling in love, especially with some Colorado Girlfriend, seemed about as likely as him running away to join the circus.

  Which was to say, never in a million bitrillion years.

  Even if she was hot.

  Dad tapped Ava’s arm and motioned across their row of seats. “See the
mountains?”

  Large adults blocked her view, which was fine. Fortunately, The Girlfriend lived in Denver, which was mountain-free. Of course, cities had crime, smog, and drivers with road rage, so they weren’t safe, either. It was unfair how a parent could force a kid to go somewhere against her will. It was kidnapping, practically.

  “You know you can’t shun me forever, right?” Dad’s voice was playful.

  Ava twisted away, toward the snoring stranger in the window seat. In her research, she’d found many pictures of “Welcome to colorful Colorado” signs. But now, through the plastic oval window, Colorado looked like a bunch of brown and tan rectangles. Flat rectangles, the same colors as the welcome signs. Ava couldn’t help comparing the sad view to Iowa’s gently rolling hills splashed with every shade of green.

  “I wish you’d talk to me, Baby Ava Girl. This is going to be fun.”

  The thing was, Dad usually was careful. He reminded Ava to wear her bike helmet, use sunscreen, and never share personal information on the internet. He even insisted she sit to eat a lollipop. Why risk their lives to introduce her to The Girlfriend and her daughter?

  Hello, Mackenzie. It’s very nice to meet you, Ava practiced in her head. Soon she’d have to say it for real. She wasn’t used to meeting people. She and Kylie had been friends since before they could eat solid food. They’d met Emma in kindergarten.

  The internet had been less helpful than usual too. Ava had perked up when she found an article about how to get a twelve-year-old girl to like you. But it had been about dating. “Keep your nails clipped and clean,” the article advised. “Girls don’t like untidy boys.” Even if she’d wanted to date a twelve-year-old girl (and Ava thought she was too young for dating), the article sounded like it was written in the pioneer days.

  What are your hobbies and interests, Mackenzie?

  The best tips had come from articles about making a good impression in a job interview. “Be your sweet Ava self,” Mrs. Mendez had said when Ava had dropped off Mouse. But it had been eons since Mrs. Mendez had been twelve. To make regular friends, those who hadn’t known her forever, Ava had to be more than her small-town self—and hide her anxiety.

  The plane interrupted her thoughts with an alarming mechanical screech. A lurch and a rumble followed, as if the plane had dropped its guts. Ava stiffened and scanned for trouble. Just the other day, The Des Moines Register had reported that a goose had flown into a plane and almost caused a crash. Dad had hustled her out the door so fast that morning, Ava had left her newspaper. Of course, if she had a phone, she could have read the news online.