Boys Don't Cry

A/N: Okay, so I had an author's note, and now it's gone. Suffice it to say: Sorry for the delay. Enjoy!

I think I'm going to vomit. It's been so long since I've done anything like this, and I seriously think it's turning my stomach inside out. Coupled with the fact that Maggie seems hell-bent on perfecting the meaning of the word "brat," I'm pretty sure this is the worst night I've had in a long time. Maybe it's an omen. Maybe I should just call it a night.

I hear heavy footsteps on the stairs, and my heart flutters just a bit. "Thank you, God," I groan, dropping my curling iron on the sink. I turn just in time to see Mark's head pop up over the landing. As he comes into full view, looking tired and somewhat vacant, I find myself growing even more nervous.

But before I can greet him, Maggie launches herself at her father's legs. "Tell Dahlia she can't go!" she demands angrily.

The look of shock that registers slightly on his face is almost cute. When he bites his lip and looks back at me, his eyebrow raised, I can't help smiling. "Where ya goin'?" he asks, carrying his daughter and a suitcase to his bedroom, dropping one of them and returning with Maggie against his hip.

"She gots a date!" Maggie points, her face twisted in disgust. I shouldn't have told her. I knew I shouldn't have. But I was so excited to finally be having a real night out, and she's the only person with which I converse on a daily basis. And now she hates me.

If Mark's eyebrow could shoot past his hairline, I'm pretty sure it would have in that moment. "A date?" he asks, placing Maggie's feet on the floor as he leans against the wall outside the bathroom.

I lean in the doorway opposite him and nod. "Yeah," I admit with a whisper.

"Tell her she doesn't need to date!" Maggie interjects again, standing between us with her hands on her tiny hips. "She gots us, Daddy."

"It's okay, Princess. Dahlia can go out and have a good time," he explains, crouching low to meet his daughter's eye.

It usually works – when Mark gets low and touches her slight shoulder with his massive paw, she usually smiles and nods and hugs his thick neck. This time, however, she just shrugs him off and shakes her head violently. "She has a good time with us."

He rolls his eyes and blushes slightly, and I can't help the impish grin that spreads over my lips when he meets my eye. "I tried to tell her," I assure him. I'm not dating her father. Mark and I are friends, at best. Just because I live with them, it doesn't mean that we're going to get married or start sharing a bedroom like he used to with her mommy. I've tried to explain it, but her young mind can't really wrap around the concept.

When he finally meets my eye again, Mark just shakes his head. Regaining his composure, he licks his lips and pulls Maggie onto his knee. I know it's uncomfortable for him, but for once, I'm so glad he's the one in the awkward position, and not me. Tucking a strand of Maggie's hair behind her ear, he presses a kiss to her forehead and shoots the most sincere eyes in her direction.

"You get to school every day, Princess. You get to see your friends and have fun with somebody other than your sister and Dahlia. And when Annie's old enough, she'll do that, too. I think it's high time Dahlia gets to go out and have fun with somebody other than us."

In theory, his words are fantastic. In reality, Maggie's not buying them, and I'm not sure I am, either. His words are perfection, but his face is conflicted. I'm not sure if he has a problem with me dating again, or if he's just thrown by Maggie's reaction to it. Of course, there's really no reason for him to be upset with me. We're friends.

"She can go out with you!" Maggie insists. "You're an adult, too. Take her to dinner, Daddy!"

He stands and rests his hands on his hips, sending the clear message that he's no longer playing around. "Maggie Grace, go to your room."

The tiny huff that escapes through her nose is almost cute. The tantrum that erupts, with her stomping foot and red face, is not. "You're such a bully!" she shouts at her father.

"I am. I'm a horrible father," he dead pans and I have to stifle my giggle. "Go to your room. Don't make me tell you again."

She stomps off and slams her door, letting out a shrill shriek. I cringe and wait for him to turn and meet my eye. "Sorry," I whisper.

But Mark just shakes his head and runs his hand over the top of his ponytail. "Nothin' to be sorry 'bout, Dahl. You're a grown woman. Don't have to answer to me."

For the most awkward minute, we just stare at each other. My thoughts drift to Maggie when I hear her tiny, ineffectual feet stomping around in her room. Then I hear the distant sounds of Blue's Clues on the television in Mark's room, where Annie is probably dead to the world by now. When my eyes settle back on Mark's concerned face, I think about this date and wonder why the hell I ever agreed to it in the first place.

"Are you okay?" I blurt without thinking when he makes no attempt to move from his place. We've shared knowing looks about the girls before, but he's never studied me for so long at one time. It's unnerving. "You seem . . . I don't know . . . tweaked."

Though we've grown closer since I moved into the house with them, I'm still not sure he'll talk to me about whatever's going on in his head. I'm not sure we're to that level yet. I'm not sure if we will ever be. And I'm really not sure how I feel about that.

He nods slowly, his shoulders relaxing as he leans a hip against the wall. "I'm fine. Just didn't know you were dating again. Guess it threw me a little."

I can't help smiling as, once again, that adorable blush creeps up his neck and settles into his cheeks. With a shrug, I turn back to the bathroom, watching him through the mirror as I curl the rest of my limp hair, praying for some volume to magically appear in the next fifteen minutes. "It's not a big deal. Just thought I might like to get dressed up and have a nice man buy me some dinner."

He steps forward and leans against the door jam, his eyes focused on the reflection of mine. "So who is this guy? He good enough for you?" A smile that says he's only kind of kidding tweaks his lips.

Rolling my eyes, I wrap my final strand of hair around my iron and hold it there. "His name is Ben, and he's an investment banker from Katy," I name a town just outside of Houston.

"Where'd ya meet him?"

I flip my hair and fluff it with my fingers, then steady myself on the sink as I stand and pivot on my bare foot toward him. "Online. I don't have much of a chance to go anywhere else, so I figured I'd see what was out there, at least. This guy seems cool, so we'll see." With a shrug, I brush past him and start down the hall to my room. "If he's crazy, I can always just tell him that my ex-husband is crazy and that he might be stalking us or something."

I love the way he opens his mouth to speak, and then snaps it shut again. And by love, I mean find it incredibly annoying. The longer I know him, the more I notice it. Sometimes I want to just scream for him to say what's on his mind, but he doesn't react well to screaming.

And speaking of screaming, Maggie starts just as I enter my room. Stepping back into the hall, I reach for the door knob, but Mark waves me back. "Finish gettin' ready. I'll take care of this."

I shut the door and try to block his intense stare from my mind. There is something about that man that just sets me on edge every time we speak. I don't know what it is, and I don't know why. I just know that I'm starting to get that giddy school girl feeling in the pit of my stomach when he looks at me, and the butterflies sort of start to flutter when he smiles. And that is the furthest thing from what I need right now.