that might be the sort of life she’s headed for.” He towers over me and I fight the urge
to place my palms on his middle-aged, letting-himself-go, squishy pecs (and who says I’m gloating just ’cause I’ve been working
out?) and shove him backward to get him out of my personal space. I’m not about to let him make this decision about punishment
if he’s going to be so ignorant about it. My daughter is far from a homeless runaway just because she snuck out to meet a
nice guy at a pizza place. “Don’t you think that’s overreacting a bit?”
“No, as a matter of fact, I don’t think I’m overreacting. That girl has been getting away with entirely too much. Better to
nip it in the bud right off the bat, if you ask me.”
“Well, I didn’t ask you, buster.”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, you did.”
“No. I said don’t punish her without me. But since you put your spin on my meaning, let me be blunt. I’ll deal with my daughter
in my own way.”
“Your daughter? Since when did she stop being our daughter and start being just yours, Claire? What, do you just make up the
rules that suit you as you go along?” His face is red with anger and his blue eyes are flashing.
I fold my arms across my chest and plant my feet hip-distance apart. “Argue all you want. But the fact is, Ari has been in
my primary custody since you left.” I gather in a sharp breath for control. I refuse to turn this into a “woman scorned” conversation.
“For the last time, my child will
not
be volunteering down there. Unless you want to volunteer with her to keep her safe.”
His face is still red, and I notice beads of sweat on his brow. “You know I work sixty hours a week already. When do you suppose
I should do that?”
Darcy lays her hand on his arm and her soft voice lifts into the air between us. “Careful of your blood pressure, sweetheart.”
That explains the red face and sweating forehead. But Rick is only thirty-eight years old. He’s not in
that
bad of shape. “Blood pressure? What’s wrong with it?”
“It’s just a little high, that’s all,” he says, totally blowing me off. “My doctor just wants me to lose twenty pounds and
exercise. Now back to Ari.”
I was afraid he was going to say that. How am I supposed to argue with a man this close to a stroke? “All right. One time.
She can volunteer once just to make your point. I’ll go with her, since you’re too busy.” And obviously don’t need the added
stress.
“I have another idea,” he says.
Miffed that I gave in against my better judgment only to have him change his mind, I give an impatient huff. “What idea?”
“I volunteer my services at Hope House once a month. What if I have Ari come with me next time? It’s the day after tomorrow.”
“What good is that as a punishment?”
His eyebrow goes up, and he looks through hooded eyes. “What do you think, Claire?” Rick is an ob-gyn. And reading his suggestion
from that perspective I see his meaning all too clearly. Hope House is a multi-church-funded house for unwed teen mothers.
They’re allowed to stay for the duration of their pregnancy and for six months thereafter if they’ve nowhere to go. And you’d
be surprised how many have been kicked out or have run away from home.
Suddenly the image of Ari all big-bellied and swollen-ankled comes to mind. I shove the offending thought aside. “That’s just
about all you know about your daughter, Rick Frank.” I turn to Darcy. “Tell him, Darce. Ari is a good girl.”
Darcy’s about to open her mouth, but Rick interrupts. “But how long will she be a good girl if she’s sneaking out to meet
college guys?”
“Sneaking out for
pizza
.”
“But what if you hadn’t stopped her?”
“I wasn’t going to sleep with him, if that’s what you’re implying, Dad.” Ari stomps down the stairs, wearing men’s boxers
and a spaghetti-strap undershirt. “Thanks for the support, Ma. At
to place my palms on his middle-aged, letting-himself-go, squishy pecs (and who says I’m gloating just ’cause I’ve been working
out?) and shove him backward to get him out of my personal space. I’m not about to let him make this decision about punishment
if he’s going to be so ignorant about it. My daughter is far from a homeless runaway just because she snuck out to meet a
nice guy at a pizza place. “Don’t you think that’s overreacting a bit?”
“No, as a matter of fact, I don’t think I’m overreacting. That girl has been getting away with entirely too much. Better to
nip it in the bud right off the bat, if you ask me.”
“Well, I didn’t ask you, buster.”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, you did.”
“No. I said don’t punish her without me. But since you put your spin on my meaning, let me be blunt. I’ll deal with my daughter
in my own way.”
“Your daughter? Since when did she stop being our daughter and start being just yours, Claire? What, do you just make up the
rules that suit you as you go along?” His face is red with anger and his blue eyes are flashing.
I fold my arms across my chest and plant my feet hip-distance apart. “Argue all you want. But the fact is, Ari has been in
my primary custody since you left.” I gather in a sharp breath for control. I refuse to turn this into a “woman scorned” conversation.
“For the last time, my child will
not
be volunteering down there. Unless you want to volunteer with her to keep her safe.”
His face is still red, and I notice beads of sweat on his brow. “You know I work sixty hours a week already. When do you suppose
I should do that?”
Darcy lays her hand on his arm and her soft voice lifts into the air between us. “Careful of your blood pressure, sweetheart.”
That explains the red face and sweating forehead. But Rick is only thirty-eight years old. He’s not in
that
bad of shape. “Blood pressure? What’s wrong with it?”
“It’s just a little high, that’s all,” he says, totally blowing me off. “My doctor just wants me to lose twenty pounds and
exercise. Now back to Ari.”
I was afraid he was going to say that. How am I supposed to argue with a man this close to a stroke? “All right. One time.
She can volunteer once just to make your point. I’ll go with her, since you’re too busy.” And obviously don’t need the added
stress.
“I have another idea,” he says.
Miffed that I gave in against my better judgment only to have him change his mind, I give an impatient huff. “What idea?”
“I volunteer my services at Hope House once a month. What if I have Ari come with me next time? It’s the day after tomorrow.”
“What good is that as a punishment?”
His eyebrow goes up, and he looks through hooded eyes. “What do you think, Claire?” Rick is an ob-gyn. And reading his suggestion
from that perspective I see his meaning all too clearly. Hope House is a multi-church-funded house for unwed teen mothers.
They’re allowed to stay for the duration of their pregnancy and for six months thereafter if they’ve nowhere to go. And you’d
be surprised how many have been kicked out or have run away from home.
Suddenly the image of Ari all big-bellied and swollen-ankled comes to mind. I shove the offending thought aside. “That’s just
about all you know about your daughter, Rick Frank.” I turn to Darcy. “Tell him, Darce. Ari is a good girl.”
Darcy’s about to open her mouth, but Rick interrupts. “But how long will she be a good girl if she’s sneaking out to meet
college guys?”
“Sneaking out for
pizza
.”
“But what if you hadn’t stopped her?”
“I wasn’t going to sleep with him, if that’s what you’re implying, Dad.” Ari stomps down the stairs, wearing men’s boxers
and a spaghetti-strap undershirt. “Thanks for the support, Ma. At
Similar Books
