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Meredith was smiling when she hung up the phone. It was a full ten minutes before she realized she hadn’t told Susan about the radio talk show. At the moment, Larry Barnett’s negativity didn’t seem important.
Susan knew the worst and still loved her.
“HEY, DADDY.”
Shaving cream on his face, Mark glanced up in the bathroom mirror to see his daughter, still in her Care Bear pajamas.
“Morning, Kelse.”
She climbed up onto the vanity, watching as Mark rinsed his razor, her foot kicking the cupboard. It felt good to have her back.
“What’cha doing today?”
“You and I are cleanin
g house, going to the grocery store and then it’s your choice,” he said. It was what they did most every Saturday—other than when he’d had preset plans with Susan.
She nodded, and Mark could see that her little face was unusually serious.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She answered too quickly. And her voice was a little high. His radar signaled trouble.
Razor midway to his face, Mark stopped. Studied her. He’d thought, with Susan out of the picture, Kelsey would be back to normal. Unless she knew he’d talked with Mr. Brown yesterday. Kelsey’s teacher had given him the troubling news that his daughter’s grades had dropped considerably over the previous two weeks. Mark had assured Rod Brown that the problem had been attended to.
“Mr. Brown came to see me yesterday.”
Kelsey’s foot stopped swinging.
“He says you’ve been having some problems with math and spelling.”
She shrugged. “It’s dumb stuff.”
Shaving with some difficulty, since he needed to give his daughter a serious stare, Mark said, “No, madam, it is not, and I believe you know that.”
He caught her chin, which was dropping toward her chest. “Are you having problems with it?” he asked. “Do you and I need to spend some extra evening time on homework?”
“No.”
“You’re sure?”
Her gaze met his. “Yes.” Mark’s heart melted at that sweet glance. He finished shaving. Wiped his face. And leaned against the sink.
“I think I might be partially to blame for this, Kelse,” he said. “I was so busy trying to get you to accept Susan, for your own good, that I wasn’t paying attention to how you were actually feeling.”
She looked confused, but continued to peer up at him. He wasn’t sure how to help her grasp what he didn’t completely understand himself.
“Anyway,” he said when nothing else came to him. “I suspect your grades falling had to do with Susan and me. What do you think?”
She glanced away. Nodded. And Mark lifted her up. Cradling her in his arms as he had when she was much younger, he kissed the tip of her nose. “I’m sorry, pumpkin.”
“I’m sorry, too, Daddy. I won’t ever yell at you like that again.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” he said. “I don’t ever want to be that angry with you again. I didn’t like it at all.”
“Me, either.”
She still looked forlorn and Mark figured it would probably take more words and more than a few days to get fully past the misunderstanding. In the meantime, he had a radio show to listen to.
