follow it. If he wasn’t completely certain there would be the emotional equivalent of rocket-propelled grenades involved, Chris would have fought for a fairer joint-custody agreement. That wouldn’t have benefited Becky in any way, though. He would jump in front of a speeding car for her. He guessed that his allowing this metaphorical one to plow him over rather than Becky was proof.
Becky came into the room and sat next to him against the wall. She leaned in his direction, and he wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her toward him and kissing the top of her head.
“So where we left off last night was with the king and queen deciding to go on the diplomatic mission, right?”
“Yeah, they’d just come out of that session with the council where they got all the reports about the sabotage. They really don’t have any choice.”
Chris knew that, just as he knew every detail in the stories they told of Tamarisk, the bedtime-story world they’d created together, but he found the creativity flowed better if they shared a couple of sentences of review before beginning their story for the night.
“The situation with the Thorns is getting tenuous, huh?”
“Seriously.”
“We’re gonna have to figure out a way to take care of those baddies, aren’t we?”
“It isn’t going to be easy, Dad.”
Chris nodded slowly. “No, no it won’t.” He grinned at her. “It’s a good thing you’re on the side of the good guys. Okay, then, let’s tell it.”
Becky moved herself a little closer, but she stayed silent. She always started the stories, so there was no chance she was waiting for him to begin. Was she having trouble coming up with an idea? That would be a first.
“Dad?” she said at last.
“Yeah, babe?”
“When are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
Chris’s heart tightened. He and Polly had agreed to talk to Becky on Sunday. As much as he hated playing by Polly’s rules, he’d done so to keep things at least moderately civil. More to the point, though, he knew he felt completely ill-equipped to express to Becky what he was feeling without doing her damage. How could he tell her that her mother - was forcing the divorce on him? What would that do to Becky’s feelings about Polly? How could he explain that he’d stopped loving his wife years ago but never would have made this move because he couldn’t bear the thought of not coming home to his daughter every night?
“Everything is going to be fine, Beck. You’d know it if I didn’t believe that, right?”
There was a pause of at least five seconds before Becky answered. “Yeah, I would, Dad.” If she was trying to sound convincing, she wasn’t doing a good job of it. Did his own attempt at reassurance sound as weak?
He tightened his hold around her shoulders. “So let’s tell a story, okay? The king and queen have some serious planning to do.”
Becky expelled a deep breath, but she didn’t say anything. He thought she was going to force him to confront this issue, and he wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to be evasive.
Finally, though, she started the story, and Chris relaxed.
At least to the degree he ever relaxed anymore.
2
Miea sat in front of the elaborately framed screen on her dorm-room desk. Her father had given it to her before she left for university this semester, and it was easily the most ornate thing she had with her. When she protested that she was perfectly happy with the phone the school provided, he offered one of his signature understanding smiles and said, “I want to look my best when I’m talking to you.” The first time they spoke on the phone, Miea dropped the pen she’d been absent-mindedly playing with, and when she leaned forward to get it, her forehead touched the screen. When she leaned back, she saw that her father had touched his forehead to his side of the screen as well, and they laughed for a good minute about it and subsequently started all of their talks that
Becky came into the room and sat next to him against the wall. She leaned in his direction, and he wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her toward him and kissing the top of her head.
“So where we left off last night was with the king and queen deciding to go on the diplomatic mission, right?”
“Yeah, they’d just come out of that session with the council where they got all the reports about the sabotage. They really don’t have any choice.”
Chris knew that, just as he knew every detail in the stories they told of Tamarisk, the bedtime-story world they’d created together, but he found the creativity flowed better if they shared a couple of sentences of review before beginning their story for the night.
“The situation with the Thorns is getting tenuous, huh?”
“Seriously.”
“We’re gonna have to figure out a way to take care of those baddies, aren’t we?”
“It isn’t going to be easy, Dad.”
Chris nodded slowly. “No, no it won’t.” He grinned at her. “It’s a good thing you’re on the side of the good guys. Okay, then, let’s tell it.”
Becky moved herself a little closer, but she stayed silent. She always started the stories, so there was no chance she was waiting for him to begin. Was she having trouble coming up with an idea? That would be a first.
“Dad?” she said at last.
“Yeah, babe?”
“When are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
Chris’s heart tightened. He and Polly had agreed to talk to Becky on Sunday. As much as he hated playing by Polly’s rules, he’d done so to keep things at least moderately civil. More to the point, though, he knew he felt completely ill-equipped to express to Becky what he was feeling without doing her damage. How could he tell her that her mother - was forcing the divorce on him? What would that do to Becky’s feelings about Polly? How could he explain that he’d stopped loving his wife years ago but never would have made this move because he couldn’t bear the thought of not coming home to his daughter every night?
“Everything is going to be fine, Beck. You’d know it if I didn’t believe that, right?”
There was a pause of at least five seconds before Becky answered. “Yeah, I would, Dad.” If she was trying to sound convincing, she wasn’t doing a good job of it. Did his own attempt at reassurance sound as weak?
He tightened his hold around her shoulders. “So let’s tell a story, okay? The king and queen have some serious planning to do.”
Becky expelled a deep breath, but she didn’t say anything. He thought she was going to force him to confront this issue, and he wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to be evasive.
Finally, though, she started the story, and Chris relaxed.
At least to the degree he ever relaxed anymore.
2
Miea sat in front of the elaborately framed screen on her dorm-room desk. Her father had given it to her before she left for university this semester, and it was easily the most ornate thing she had with her. When she protested that she was perfectly happy with the phone the school provided, he offered one of his signature understanding smiles and said, “I want to look my best when I’m talking to you.” The first time they spoke on the phone, Miea dropped the pen she’d been absent-mindedly playing with, and when she leaned forward to get it, her forehead touched the screen. When she leaned back, she saw that her father had touched his forehead to his side of the screen as well, and they laughed for a good minute about it and subsequently started all of their talks that
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