“Paisley,” I said gently, “Daddy is right there.”
I pointed toward Trevor.
He raised both hands.
“See? Still here.”
Paisley looked at him.
Then at Rosalyn.
Then back at me.
Her little face crumpled.
“No!”
She suddenly began crying.
Not whining.
Not complaining.
Terrified crying.
I crouched down.
“What’s wrong?”
She grabbed my wrist.
“Daddy!”
“Daddy’s right there.”
“No!”
She pointed toward Rosalyn’s stomach again.
“Daddy’s in her!”
The laughter stopped.
Trevor’s smile disappeared.
My father lowered his drink.
Rosalyn’s expression hardened.
“She’s talking nonsense,” Rosalyn said.
Paisley screamed.
“NO!”
Then she grabbed my hand.
“Mommy, save him!”
Something cold moved through me.
I followed her.
She dragged me toward Rosalyn’s lounge chair with surprising strength.
Rosalyn stood up.
“Enough.”
But Paisley wouldn’t stop.
She reached toward Rosalyn’s stomach.
“It’s there!”
I looked at the swimsuit.
