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He knocked on his daughter’s door, and heard her exhausted, “What?”
He actually drew in a breath before he stepped into her room. He knew it wouldn’t be easy, talking his popular sixteen-year-old daughter into a vacation. Nothing mattered more to Marah than her friends. That would be especially true now.
She stood by her unmade bed, brushing her long, shiny black hair. Dressed for school in ridiculously low-rise, flare-legged jeans and a T-shirt that was toddler-sized, she looked ready to tour with Britney Spears. He pushed his irritation aside. This was no time for a fight about fashion.
“Hey,” he said, closing the door behind him.
“Hey,” she answered without looking at him. Her voice had that brittle sharpness that had become de rigueur since puberty. He sighed; even grief, it seemed, hadn’t softened his daughter. If anything, it had made her angrier.
She put down her hairbrush and faced him. He understood now why Kate had been wounded so often by the judgment in their daughter’s eyes. She had a way of cutting you with a glance.
“I’m sorry about last night,” he said.
“Whatever. I have soccer practice after school today. Can I take Mom’s car?”
He heard the way her voice broke on Mom’s. He sat down on the edge of her bed and waited for her to join him there. When she didn’t, he felt a wave of exhaustion. She was obviously fragile. They all were now—but Marah was like Tully. Neither of them knew how to show weakness. All Marah would let herself care about now was that he’d interrupted her routine, and God knew she spent more time getting ready for school than a monk devoted to morning prayers.
“We’re going to Hawaii for a week. We can—”
“What? When?”
“We’re leaving here in two hours. Kauai is—”
“No way,” she screeched.
Her outburst was so unexpected he actually forgot what he was saying. “What?”
“I can’t take off from school. I have to keep my grades up for college. I promised Mom I’d do well in school. ”
“That’s admirable, Marah. But we need some time away as a family. To figure things out. We can get your assignments, if you’d like. ”
“If I’d like? If I’d like?” She stomped her foot. “You know nothing about high school. Do you know how competitive it is out there? How will I get into a good college if I tank this semester?”
“One week will hardly throw you under the bus. ”
“Ha! I have Algebra 2, Dad. And American Studies. And I’m on varsity soccer this year. ”
He knew there was a right way to handle this and a wrong way; he just didn’t know what the right way was, and honestly, he was too tired and stressed out to care.
He stood up. “We’re leaving at ten. Pack a bag. ”
She grabbed his arm. “Let me stay with Tully!”
He looked down at her, seeing how anger had stained her pale skin red. “Tully? As a chaperone? Uh. No. ”
“Grandma and Grandpa would stay here with me. ”
“Marah, we’re going. We need to be together, just the four of us. ”
She stomped her foot again. “You’re ruining my life. ”
“I doubt that. ” He knew he should say something of value or lasting importance. But what? He’d already come to despise the platitudes people handed out like breath mints after a death. He didn’t believe that time would heal this wound or that Kate was in a better place or that they’d learn to go on. There was no way he could pass along some hollow sentiment to Marah, who was clearly hanging on by as thin a strand as he was.
She spun away and went into her bathroom and slammed the door.
He knew better than to wait for her to change her mind. In his bedroom, he grabbed his phone and made a call as he walked into the closet, looking for a suitcase.
“Hello?” Tully answered, sounding as bad as he felt.
