by Lee McKenzie
Talk, listen. Hear. “You make it sound easy.”
“Well, it’s not. Parenting is the toughest job you’ll ever have, but it’s also the most rewarding, don’t you think?”
He wanted the kind of connection and mutual respect she and her daughter had, but right now he was on his way to pick up his kid at a police station. “I’ll have to get back to you on that.”
Could he do the things she suggested? He had to. Failure wasn’t an option.
On the outskirts of Gibsons, he slowed to the posted speed limit. “Do you know where the station is?”
“I do. In another mile or so we’ll need to turn right. I can’t remember the name of the road, but I’ll know it when I see it.”
He was anxious to see Kate, to assure himself that she really was okay, but he worried about saying or doing the wrong thing. Something he had a real knack for.
You could ask an expert. He had one right here in the car with him.
“So you wouldn’t happen to have any other advice for a bungling father, would you?”
“What kind of advice?”
“Ah, like how to handle things when we get there.”
She reached out, and her hand on his arm was both unexpected and reassuring. “Stay calm and don’t overreact. It’s okay to let her know you were worried, but it’s not a good time to point fingers and lay blame. Make sure she knows you’re relieved to see her and that you’ll talk later, once you have your emotions under control.”
“Okay. I can do that.” He hoped.
“And when you do get home, don’t come down too hard on her.”
Good advice, he thought, since it was the coming down hard that had landed them in this mess in the first place.
“See if the two of you can find some middle ground.” She pointed to the intersection ahead. “We need to turn right here.”
Middle ground, he thought, signaling and making the turn she’d indicated. He had a feeling she had something very specific in mind, and he had absolutely no idea what that might be. Might as well ask, he told himself. It’s not as if he had anything to lose.
“You’ve probably already figured out that I’m a little dense when it comes to these things. What you mean by ‘middle ground’?”
“What if Kate agrees to keep up with her schoolwork in exchange for helping out at my store a couple of afternoons a week after school? You would both have to compromise, but you would both be getting what you want, too.”
Compromise. He thought that’s what he’d been doing all along. In one of those all-too-rare lightbulb moments, it dawned on him that he had not been giving Kate the benefit of the doubt. Instead of asking what she needed and wanted, he had let her know, as much through his actions as his words, that he knew what was best for her. All she had to do was listen and do what she was told.
“This is it,” Sarah said. “Here on the right.”
He swung the car into the driveway and pulled up behind the police cruiser parked there. The two-story white clapboard building with immaculately groomed grounds could pass as a house if not for the sign and flagpole in the front yard and radio tower behind.
Sarah’s door flew open the instant he stopped and switched off the ignition. She had one purpose now and it wasn’t him...and he couldn’t fault her for that. She released her seat belt and jumped out of the car in one fluid move. He was moving a little slower and she already had Petey’s crate out of the backseat by the time he stepped out and closed the door.
Their gazes met over the roof of the SUV. And then, as though she could see the enormity of his self-doubt, she gave him a wide smile. Then she walked around the front of the car and slipped her free arm around his waist as they walked to door.
“You can do this,” she said. “You know how they say it takes a village to raise a child? Well, just remember that we live in the same village.”
He looped an arm around shoulders and for the first time in what felt like forever, he believed her. He could do this.
* * *
LIFE COULDN’T POSSIBLY get any suckier, Kate thought. On the drive back to Serenity Bay, she wedged herself into the corner of the backseat and stared out the window, refusing to speak to or even look at any of these people.
Her dad hadn’t yelled, even though she’d expected him to go totally ballistic. Sarah hadn’t reprimanded her for dragging her precious daughter into this. Casey hadn’t gone all nya-nya-nya-nya-nya on her but, still, some friend she’d turned out to be.
What were they doing instead? Her dad had put the radio on her favorite station, Sarah calmly pointed out several points of interest along the highway, and Casey had taken Petey out of his carrier and had him sitting on her lap. All of this was really bugging her because she was spoiling for a fight.
She leaned her head against the window and squeezed her eyes shut. They flew open again when something cold touched her hand. Petey’s nose. He was looking at her with such sad eyes, she couldn’t resist petting him. He crawled onto her lap and rested his chin on her arm, and for some crazy stupid reason, that made her cry.
In the front seat, Sarah dug a little plastic packet of tissues out of her purse and passed them back to her without saying anything.
She wanted to scream. Stop being nice to me! But she just dried her eyes and blew her nose and tried to make herself small enough to disappear into the corner.
* * *
JON HAD SOME very mixed feelings as he unlocked the front door. He glanced next door in time to see Sarah, arm in arm with her daughter, disappear inside. You’re on your own, he thought, stepping aside for his daughter. A sullen and still-silent Kate made a beeline for the stairs.
You can do this, Sarah had said to him. But he already wanted to play the village card because this would be so much easier if she was here.
“Hold on,” he said.
She stopped but didn’t turn around to face him.
“Come on into the kitchen and I’ll fix you something to eat. We need to talk.”
“What’s to talk about? You’re grounding me till I’m eighteen?”
He refrained from pointing out that, under the circumstances, her belligerence was out of line. This was about finding that middle ground, not creating an even wider and deeper rift between them.
He eyed the bulging black-and-white bag with suspicion. It was the catalyst that had precipitated this whole mess and although he normally didn’t have an opinion about purses, he intensely disliked this one. Judging by its shape, she had packed for an extended time away from home.
“No punishment,” he said.
She faced him then, warily, as though she either didn’t believe him or didn’t trust him to keep his promise.
He hiked his head in the direction of the kitchen. “Come on. I’ll make some sandwiches.”
She followed several paces behind him and stood at the island. He handed her a cutting board, a knife, a tomato and an avocado.
“If you’ll slice these, I’ll slice the bread and cheese,” he said, hoping her favorite sandwich would open the lines of communication.
For a few seconds, he thought she might refuse, but then she peeled off her jacket and draped it over the back of a stool and sat down.
He unwrapped the loaf of bread he’d made that morning and took butter, cheese and condiments out of the fridge. “What would you like to drink? Is water okay?”
She only nodded. Okay, still not talking. That was fine. At least she wasn’t talking to him at home instead of who knows where it was she’d been going. He still needed to get to the bottom of that, but first things first. He filled two glasses and passed one to Kate. Then he carved off thick slabs of sourdough, spread them with butter and sliced the cheese.
“Would you like mayo on yours?”
Another nod. No problem. This
time, no matter what, he would not lose his cool.
To keep calm, he only needed to think about those hours spent not knowing where she was, about how lost she’d looked sitting in that stark, impersonal room at the police station. About Sarah telling him she was part of his village. He had a second chance with both of them. This time he wouldn’t blow it, because he might not get another.
After Kate finished slicing vegetables, he layered everything together, cut the two sandwiches on the diagonal and set them on plates. He forked dill pickles from a jar and added one to each plate, slid one in front of Kate and settled on a stool at the opposite end of the island with his. He watched her tuck into the meal and was glad he hadn’t let her disappear upstairs to lick her wounds. If she’d had anything to eat since lunchtime, it had likely come from a vending machine at the ferry terminal.
He gave her a few minutes to eat while he took that time to polish off half of his own sandwich and contemplate how to approach this. The direct approach, he decided, was the only way to go.
“I overreacted yesterday and I owe you an apology for that. I’m sorry.”
Kate’s eyelids fluttered in surprise, suggesting that was the last thing she’d expected him to say.
He pressed on. “If I’ve made you feel as though you can’t talk to me about the things that interest you or tell me how you’re spending your time, then I haven’t been doing my job as your father. I hope you know that your mother and I both love you very much,” he continued. “And we’ve both been doing a lousy job of showing it.”
She crunched a pickle, sputtered a little, then gulped some water. “Then how come she didn’t let me visit this summer?”
“I can’t answer that.” And there was no way he would speculate, not out loud and certainly not for his daughter to hear. Besides, that’s not where this conversation was headed. “But I can tell you that the problems your mother and I were having, our reasons for getting a divorce—” and there’d been plenty of them “—none of those things had anything to do with you. You’ve only ever been our smart, beautiful daughter and we’ve always been insanely proud of you.”
“So why did you get divorced?”
“Because your mom and I realized we didn’t want the same things anymore. Her career was taking off. She was always busy, and she was away a lot.”
Kate’s eyebrows shot up. “So it was her fault.”
“No, it wasn’t. I was proud of her, I still am. She’s always known what she wanted, she knew what she needed to do get it, and she went for it.” And it was those same traits in Kate that had him feeling so conflicted. “Your mom had an amazing career and there’s no way I would have asked her to give it up. But that kind of hectic life, always being on the go, the long and irregular hours...I couldn’t make them work for me.”
“Even before she moved out, when she was out at night and working late and stuff, I used to go to bed and wonder if she was ever coming home again.”
He’d thought the divorce was the low point in his life, but with this revelation his emotions spiraled to dark new depths. To think he and Kate had been worrying about the same thing and he had never picked up on it. He’d convinced himself that Georgette was the self-centered one. Not so.
He found himself wondering what sort of advice Sarah would offer.
She’s grieving. You were grieving, too.
Was it possible they’d both been grieving the loss of a wife and mother before she was actually gone?
“I used to lose sleep over it, too,” he admitted. “If I’d guessed you were going through the same thing, I would have talked to you about it. I guess I thought you were young enough that you wouldn’t notice, and that you were too young to be dragged into the world of grown-up problems.”
“Seriously, Dad? I’m not a little kid.” Her tone was forceful but it was laced with humor, too, and that was the first bright spot in what had been a very dark day.
“I know you’re not, and I’ll try not to think of you that way, but you’ll always be my daughter, in some ways the little girl who used to count on me for everything.”
That netted him an eye roll. “It’s still Mom’s fault that we had to come here. If she hadn’t moved out, then we’d all still be living in the city together. Sometimes I think maybe she’ll change her mind and come back to Vancouver, and then we can all be a family again.”
“You really don’t like it here? I thought you were settling in, starting to make new friends.”
“I am. I miss my old friends, though. And the city.”
Honestly, there were things he missed, too, but Serenity Bay was already starting to feel like home. He hoped Kate would eventually feel that way as well.
“I’m sorry if it seemed as though I wasn’t involving you in my decision to move here, but I thought it would be good for us, both of us, to have a fresh start. And just to be clear, your mom and I won’t be getting back together.”
Ever. Even if by some miracle Georgette were to have a change of heart, a reunion was never going to happen.
“It’s just you and me, kid. The divorce wasn’t your mom’s fault. We were equally responsible. All I want now is for your mom to be happy with her new life, and for us to be happy with ours.”
He was finally ready to move on, and moving on with his new neighbor felt right, especially now that she’d forgiven him for being such a jerk when he found out Kate was hanging out at her store after school. It was too soon to share those feelings with Kate, though.
“So where do we go from here?” he asked.
“Am I still grounded?”
He shook his head. “No. I’m rescinding that.”
She brightened noticeably.
“With conditions,” he added quickly. “You’re not off the hook entirely.”
“But I’m not grounded?”
“No.”
“And I can go to the freshman dance on Friday night?”
Ah, yes. The dance. He’d been asked to chaperone but had declined because he knew Kate wouldn’t want him there. Now he tried not to think about the fact that freshman boys also went to dances, and few things interested them more than freshman girls.
“Who else is going?”
“Casey and Alycia and some of the...some of our friends.”
“Some of the boys” is what she’d been about to say. Henry and Dexter, if he had to guess. He’d been trying not to monitor her activities at school, but he wasn’t blind.
“Of course you can go. And you’ll be happy to know I won’t be one of the chaperones.”
She trained her gaze on him, steady and straight as an arrow. “You should. Casey’s mom is chaperoning.”
That was unexpected—on both counts—and suddenly a high school dance had a whole lot of appeal. There was still a smattering of freshman boy in every man. He was no exception, and since Sarah would be there...
“You won’t mind if I go?”
“Not if you’re there as one of the teachers and not trying to be a cool dad or anything.”
He laughed at that. “Okay. I’ll be sure to leave my cool at home.”
“Dad, that’s lame.” She was right, but she laughed, too.
“I assume that Casey will be giving her mother the same instructions.”
“Sarah is cool.”
And he was not. Well, he could live with that. “Speaking of Sarah...she and I had lots of time to talk tonight. She told me how much you’ve helped her at the store.”
Kate stared down at the half sandwich on her plate.
“You really like being there, don’t you?”
She nodded and picked up the sandwich.
“Since you’re not grounded, I was thinking we might work out a compromise.”
Instead of taking a bite, she set the sandwich down. “What kind
of compromise?”
“That you could still work there two afternoons a week on the days I have soccer practice, and maybe the occasional Saturday.”
“Really? Are you serious?”
“Yes, but...it’s contingent on a couple of things. You have to keep up with your schoolwork, and your grades need to improve, too.”
She looked a little deflated.
“You’re a smart kid with a lot of talent, and I’m sorry I haven’t given you enough credit for that, but school’s important, too. I’ll do what I can to help. We’ll even hire a tutor if your teachers think it’s necessary.”
“Okay, I will. I promise. And I can ask Casey if she’ll help me with science. She gets straight A’s in that class.”
“As long as it’s okay with her mother.”
“I’m sure it’s fine.” She slid off her stool, looking somewhat timid at first, and gave him an awkward hug. “I won’t let you down, I promise.”
He believed her. Their father-daughter relationship had taken a giant leap in the right direction, and while he knew there were bound to be a few bumps in the road ahead, they were actually communicating.
“Are you going to finish your sandwich?”
“Can I take it upstairs? I want to call Casey. And Sarah.”
“Of course. But before you make those calls, will you do one thing for me?”
“Sure.”
“Call your mom and let her know you’re okay. She’s waiting to hear from you.”
Her enthusiasm waned a little. “It’s pretty late over there.”
“It doesn’t matter. She wants to hear your voice.”
“Okay.” She picked up her plate and glass and disappeared out of the kitchen.
For a few minutes he just sat there, mulling over the evening’s events, then he went to work on the kitchen, putting things away in the fridge, loading the dishwasher, wiping down the counter. He was bone-tired and exhilarated all at the same time. He’d like to talk to Sarah, too, but he’d already imposed on her enough for one day. Still, a text message might be appropriate.
He tracked down his phone, retrieved a binder from his briefcase in the foyer and flipped to the page of contact information for the girls on the soccer team.
