The Winters(48)

“What time did you get in?” I asked Max, entering the conversation cautiously.

“After two, I think,” he said. “I slept in the den so I wouldn’t wake you. I made scrambled eggs. I’ll heat some up for you.”

“No, they’re fine like this,” I said, spooning some onto a plate. “What else did you tell your dad?”

Dani shrugged. “That we hung out. Did each other’s makeup. Just girl stuff.” Then she lowered her voice and cupped a hand at her mouth. “I might have been a little stoned, Daddy.”

Savvy move. I’ll tell my father before you do.

Max exhaled, less angry than exasperated. “Dani, I told you, no smoking pot. Where did you get it? Claire?”

“She was also drinking,” I blurted out.

“Is that true?”

“I might have had a little sip of something.”

“Do I have to change the lock on the wine cellar again?”

“No, Daddy. I won’t do it again.”

Dani shot me a look, not a vicious one, more like the way you’d silently congratulate your poker partner on a clever move. “I didn’t peg you for a tattletale,” she said. “I know I’m no snitch.”

“I’m not tattling, Dani. Last night I told you I was worried about you. And I am.” Then I pulled out my trump card. “And while I’m not your mother, I don’t think even she would have been very pleased with your behavior.”

She closed her eyes and tilted her head back. When she opened them to reply, her response came out like a pent-up roar.

“What the fuck do you know about what my mother would or wouldn’t have liked? You don’t know a fucking thing about her. Or me. Or my father, for that matter—”

“Dani, Dani,” Max said quietly.

“Who do you think you are?” she continued, pointing a finger at me. “Coming here and thinking you can move in and—”

“Dani, I mean it.”

“—just insert yourself into my life, into our lives, telling me how to live my life—”

“I’m not trying to do anything—”

“What have you even done with your life? I’m amazed you lasted this long, to be honest.”

“Jesus Christ, Dani! Would you just shut the fuck up!”

We both fell silent. I had never seen Max so red or heard him yell so loud. Judging from the way Dani’s anger instantly dissolved into anguish, neither had she.

“Daddy,” she said, her chin trembling, her voice small. She lowered her head into her chest and began to cry.

Max put his arms around her, murmuring, over and over, “I’m so sorry, sweetie.”

She leaned her head into his chest, arms flaccid around Maggie. Between sobs she said, “I was just . . . trying . . . to be . . . nice to her.”

Now I was the one rolling my eyes.

“I know, honey,” Max said, and mouthed “I’m sorry” at me over her shoulder. “But you know I hate it when you use drugs. You’re too young. It’s worrisome. To both of us. That’s all she was saying.”

Dani pulled away from him. “I don’t need her to worry about me, Daddy. I need you to.” Clutching Maggie tightly, she stepped off the stool and wiped her face with the back of a hand. “Just you.”

As she passed by me, she shot me a small triumphant smile, one that announced the end of an excellent performance. The door swung behind her.

Max exhaled. “I’m sorry about that. And I’m sorry I yelled like that.”

“You don’t need to apologize to me. I wonder if you don’t yell often enough,” I said, in a way that surprised me with its bite.

“I know. I let her get away with a lot.” He buried his face in his hands and gave it a hard rub. “Argh! This isn’t getting any easier for you, is it?”

I shook my head. That was the simple truth. It was getting harder.

“What can I do to help?” he asked.

“I don’t know. More rules? More boundaries? I mean, she’s doing drugs. She’s drinking alone, at fifteen. She says you don’t love her. That doesn’t bode well for her, or for us.”

“I know. I know. Her problems aren’t new to this house. I really thought the worst of it was over. Lately, though—” He stopped. Was he going to suggest this new round of bad behavior coincided with my arrival? “Maybe she needs to go back to rehab.”

“Rehab? When did she go to rehab?”

“Last year. She wasn’t eating enough, she was partying a lot. I was worried she was heading for a breakdown. I even tried to take control of her money so she couldn’t buy anything I didn’t know about, drugs in particular. But she rallied. Pushed back. Went to a therapist in town for a while, then stopped going around the time she stopped going to school. Since then I haven’t had much luck making her do anything she doesn’t want to do.”

“Well, tell her it’s back to therapy. I don’t know. You only have a few more years with her, and then she’s on her own.”

“We. We only have a few more years with her,” he said. He reached for my hand. “We are a team. And with any luck, we’ll have our own spoiled brats to tame soon enough.”