"This is so cool, Dad!" Janice's grin almost reached her ears. Only her dimples stopped the corners of her mouth from splitting her face.

A face framed by a mane of clover-green hair.

She deposited an empty dye bottle on the edge of the once white sink and tugged at some of her newly-coloured curls. "Thanks for letting me do this, Dad."

Janice had wanted to dye her hair from the moment she could talk, but Helen and I had always vetoed the project—until now, that is. When she had breached the topic with me yesterday, I had finally budged to her desire. I had realized that everyone should have the right to express themselves. It made the world a more colorful and diverse place.

I glanced at my wristwatch. Seven p.m. It was time to speed up. The guests for my birthday party would arrive in about half an hour, and I still had to prepare the drinks.

I stood at Janice's back and placed my hands on her shoulders. "Let's hurry up now. Mom will come and pick you up in a few minutes."

Father and daughter grinned back at us from my bathroom mirror.

Janice looked like a green-haired fairy.

"I love women with color in their hair," I said all of a sudden, remembering one in particular.

Her smile faltered. "You do, Dad? Do you know another one? With dye in her hair?"

"Er..." I halted my smile, too. "Um. Why do you ask?"

"Because you just said you loved them." She scratched her nose with a greenish finger and left a stain there. "And Mom says that she thinks you're seeing someone new." Her eyes met mine in the mirror, curious and probing.

I shook my head no. "I am not seeing anyone with dyed hair, Peanut. No."

Was I seeing Venus? Was going on a single dinner date the same as seeing someone? And Braces didn't count. I just happened to see her from time to time, and that wasn't seeing her.

So, technically, I was not lying.

And Janice wouldn't like me to see someone other than Helen, I was quite sure of that.

She nodded seriously. "Good." Her smile returned. "Because, you know what? Mom has stopped seeing George."

Stopped seeing George? I had not known her dalliance with the Chancellor had come to an end. "Oh," I said, curious. "Did she now? What happened?"

She shrugged. "Dunno. I guess... Cuz he's old? And he kept eating all the chocolate we had. I had told you about it at the zoo."

"And how is Mom?"

Helen had always been the stronger of the two of us. More self-assured. More determined. More focused. The one who could cope. The one who would win.

The thought of her plans going wrong made me somehow feel sorry for her.

"Fine. I s'ppose." My daughter pulled at the hem of her t-shirt and looked down at it. What used to be basic white had now turned into a patchwork of lime-green stains. "More or less fine, I mean. But I think she needs another man."

"Another man?"

She nodded. "Yeah. It's not nice to be alone. I mean, she has me, of course, so she's not alone. But I'm not a man, you know."

"Right. You're a peanut."

She rolled her eyes, turning her gaze to the ceiling. "Dad. You know what I mean!"

"Whatever." I was not sure I knew what she meant, nor was I going to probe her about that topic.

I checked the time. Helen would come to pick up Janice at any moment. "Now wash your hands and then get yourself a clean shirt. Mom will go ballistic if she sees you like this."

She would probably go ballistic at Janice's hair anyway.

"I'll be in the kitchen if you need me." I turned to leave the bathroom, but my daughter grabbed me by the sleeve.

"Dad?" Her face was all serious now.

"Yes?"

"If you're not seeing anyone... Couldn't you get back together with Mom?"

"I..." Her big-eyed fairy-stare made me hesitate. "Peanut, honey, our marriage is..." I searched for the right word. "It's broken."

"If it's broken... Can't you fix it?"

"That is super hard." I swallowed. "But let's talk about this topic another time. Your mom will be here at any moment, and I've got stuff to prepare for the party. You need to change now, go on, quick."

"Okay." Her face lit up. "We'll talk about it another time. I'll go put on a different t-shirt, and then... I'll give you your present."

"Great." Earlier she'd spent an hour in her room, wrapping something up. I didn't know what it was but it did make me curious.

Glad the thought of the present had cheered Janice up, I headed for the kitchen. I understood how she felt, but the champagne punch wouldn't be even close to ready for my birthday guests if I spent the next thirty minutes being divorce-counseled by my daughter.

The recipe was still on my tablet, and the ingredients were ready for mixing.

Apple juice, pineapple juice, lemon juice, orange juice, and water—I put them all into a bowl, one by one, added sugar, and stirred.

As I was pouring the champagne into the cauldron, its bubbles foaming up the contents, the doorbell rang.

7:15. Hopefully, it was a late Helen and not an early guest.

"I'll open the door!" Janice yelled out from the bathroom.

Before I could stop her, I heard the lock already being unbolted.

"Hi Mom."

"Janice!" Helen exclaimed. "What's this?" She hissed the last word.

"Dad dyed my hair."

"Where is he?"

"Er... Kitchen?"

Hard heels hammered the wooden floor, staccato-approaching.

I finished emptying the bottle into the bowl, steeled myself, and turned to face the incoming storm that was my ex.

She stopped in the doorframe—short denim skirt, denim blouse, hands on her hips, and her lips pulled into a pale, thin line. "Whose idea was this?"

I held her stare. "Mine."

"She has to go to school tomorrow! What the hell were you thinking?"

Janice squeezed past her mother, clutching a gift-wrapped bundle firmly to her chest.

I was relieved to see she had changed into another shirt as she'd promised. A Dunkin' orange one—it underlined the lush green of her curls perfectly.

Janice stood at my side, silently facing her mom from a safe distance.

"So what?" I said. "She can go like this."

"It's okay, Mom. Really!" Janice grasped my hand in a supportive gesture. "This girl I share the desk with, Anne, at school, she has red hair right now, and my friend Juanita is blonde, even if she's not really blonde. The teachers don't mind."

Helen took a long breath and loosened her stance. "Okay, then. There's not much we can do about... this, anyway." She pointed a finger at Janice. "But next time, young lady, you'll ask me first."

Our daughter crossed her arms, then nodded. "Yes, Mom."

I refrained from adding that, as her father, I had a say in this, too. I did not want everything to escalate into even more conflict and unnecessary drama.

Helen scanned the kitchen. "I had thought you were doing the cooking yourself." Her tone of voice was softer now.

"I'm ready. I've got punch..." I gestured at the bowl, "... and I've got something for the guests to nibble on." I pointed at the table, which held tortilla chips in a large bag with red-hot sauce in a jar waiting beside them.

"And the food?"

"Pizza and salad. They will be delivered at eight."

"Okay." Helen retrieved a spoon from the drawer, dipped it into the bowl, and savored the punch. "Oh, this is... not bad. Not bad at all. However, the taste could be improved with a pinch of ginger. And it also needs some ice."

"I don't have any ginger," I said. "And I was just about to add the ice."

Helen licked the spoon and eyed me. "You're sure you don't need any help?"

"No, I'm fine. But thanks." Ignoring her tongue still probing the spoon, I glanced at my watch again. Seven thirty. The guests might arrive at any moment.

"Dad?" Janice held out her parcel. "This is a present I got you for your birthday."

"Oh. Thanks, dear." I took the gift and ran my fingers over it. I always did that when I got a present, trying to guess what it was.

This one felt soft to the touch, like a piece of clothing.

"What is it?" I turned the packet around in my hands.

"You've gotta open it first, Dad." She rolled her eyes.

I did as instructed, tearing the paper apart.

It was a piece of clothing—blue, with an imprint of red and yellow. I held it up: A t-shirt with an S-logo printed to its chest.

"A Superman t-shirt for a superdad!" Janice clapped her hands.

"I..." Touched, I groped for something to say. "Thank you, Peanut." I went down on my haunches and hugged her.

As I did so, she whispered in my ear. "You're Superman. I'm sure you can superfix things with Mom."

I let go of her and studied her green-framed face. She tilted her head, looked at me, and winked.

The doorbell rang.

"I'll go!" Janice ran off again, leaving me still speechless.

"She's the best thing we ever made," Helen said.

I rose and leaned against the sink. "Right. There's no doubt about that." I nodded, sincere with my reply.

She stood next to the table, shapely legs and all. "And congratulations on your birthday!" she said. "Forty! That's quite a number, Evan. The end of the wild years."

The pensive smile on her lips was the same one I had fallen in love with ages ago.

"Oh, Helen!" Carl entered the kitchen. "I didn't know you'd be here." Surprise rang in his voice.

As usual, he was an early guest, eager to have an unchallenged go at all the aperitifs.

"Oh, she's just picking up Janice," I said. It was time for my ex to leave. I didn't want her to run into Venus, who I'd invited to the party.

"Yeah." Helen took Janice's hand and gave me another look. And another smile. "Sure. I only stopped by to pick up our daughter. We were just leaving, Janice and I." She waved at us. "Carl, I'll see you at the institute. Have a fine party, you all." She winked at Carl and pointed her thumb at me. "And be gentle with the old man there."

With that, and a small laugh, she left.

Carl raised his eyebrows at me as he listened to her and Janice's receding footfalls. "Oh my, Helen is being mighty sweet today," he whispered.

Yes, she had been sweet. And had made an apparent effort.

Should I make one, too? Try to superfix things with her for the sake of our daughter? Could I make this work? Could we make this work again if we tried hard enough?

Voices tore me from my superman thoughts.

Women's voices.

I stepped out into the hallway, just in time to see Helen and Janice glower at a newcomer out on the landing in front of the open apartment door.

It was Venus.