Meet Cute(29)

“I’m not mad. I can’t even say I’m disappointed. I know why you did what you did, but it’s not a good way to handle conflict. You need to start talking to me instead of reacting. Or talking to your guidance counselor, or the school social worker.”

“But she’ll tell Aunt Linda what I say.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Because Aunt Linda’s always hanging out after I’ve been in to see Miss Garrett. I don’t want to say anything that’s going to get back to Aunt Linda because then she might be able to take me away from you.”

I worry that she’s acting out when normally she’s such a good kid. “You have to talk to me, though, Emme. None of us can help you if you keep it all inside. I’ll call your counselor tomorrow, but you have to meet with her, and actually speak. That’s part of the deal. It’s how I got you out of an official suspension.”

“I can go to school tomorrow?” She seems mildly shocked, and maybe just the tiniest bit disappointed.

“No, you have the rest of the week off, but it’s not a formal suspension. I’m not leaving you at home alone, though, so you’ll be coming to work with me.”

“I can stay home by myself.”

“And watch TV all day? Not a chance. You punch a kid in the face, there are consequences. Your punishment is boredom. No TV until Sunday night.”

“What?” Her pitch is nearly dog-whistle high.

“You heard me. No TV, actually, no electronics period. That includes your phone.”

Her eyes are anime wide. “Are you insane?”

Probably. “Consequences, Emme, there are always consequences.”

“But you said he deserved it!”

“Doesn’t mean that’s what you should’ve done.”

“Why are you punishing me for it when I’m already being punished by the school?”

I side-eye her. “Let’s be real. Two days off from school is not a punishment. It’s a holiday. Do you know what would happen if I punched someone in the face?”

“You’d break their nose,” she mutters.

“Possibly, and also my fist, but I’d be charged. I’d have a criminal record. Do you know how hard it is to get a job with a criminal record? Especially one for violent behavior?”

“Okay, okay. I get it! Don’t hit people! I just want him to leave me alone, and sometimes I get so mad.” Her hands are balled into fists in her lap as we pull into the underground parking lot.

Her voice is quieter when she says, “I miss Mom and Dad. I miss the way Mom smells. I miss her hugs. I miss everything, and stupid Billy Horton thinks it’s some big joke that they’re gone, but it’s not. I just want them back. I keep thinking one day they’re going to walk through the door and that it was someone else’s family in that accident, not mine.”

She dissolves into tears. I have to unbuckle my seat belt and awkwardly side hug her, internally punching my own face for taking it one step too far.

I wish I had someone to bounce this stuff off of. I think about the way Kailyn hugged her and offered her support today and worry that I’m not going to be enough.





Word to the wise, instituting an electronics ban on a thirteen-year-old is the worst torture in the world, and not just for her, but for me, too. Because the whining is incessant. I imagine this must be what hell is like.

It hasn’t even been a full twenty-four hours yet, but it feels like an eternity. I end up having to suspend the ban the following day because Emme has homework that requires her laptop. I also have to allow her to use her phone because I’m dropping her off at the library while I meet with Kailyn. I would take her with me, but I don’t want to create more anxiety for her.

The library is only a block from Kailyn’s office, but I don’t feel right about not having a way to get in touch with Emme. The ban seemed good in theory, but not so much in practice.

“I suspended the data,” I tell her as I pull into the library parking lot.

She gapes at me. “You didn’t have to do that. I wouldn’t have texted my friends. They’re all in class anyway, and I don’t want anyone to get in trouble because of me.” She stuffs the phone in her pocket, punches the release on her seat belt, and gets out of the car, closing the door harder than necessary.

I arrive at Kailyn’s office at 11:25 with coffee in hand. Yesterday wasn’t a shining moment for me. I hadn’t expected her to be at the school, witnessing what felt like my first failure at parenting.

I have a plan today. And it includes an apology for being a jerk, recently and back in college. Maybe what I perceived as a friendly rivalry, she perceived as something else. My friends were always making comments, so it’s possible she took them personally when they weren’t meant that way. She proved yesterday that she’s trying to help, so I should attempt to be civil even if she’s prickly as fuck with me.

Her assistant does that blinking thing women often do when they recognize me. She did it the last time I was here, too. I’m not being an egotistical jerk, it’s just a fact. First comes the fast blinks, then the hair and/or clothing adjustments. Then the wide smile and the fidgeting, followed by the high-pitched greeting.

“Mr. Hughes!” And there’s the high pitch.