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“No, what you want is for me to talk to you whether I want to or not about a topic of your choice. Not the same thing.”
Parenting a teenager was like navigating a treacherous swamp. You took a step and hoped you’d plant your foot on solid ground, but it was equally likely you might find yourself sucked under.
“I’m worried about you, Mack. Not speaking up in class? You talk more than anyone I know. And you’re smart, and yet your grades are dropping.”
“I’m bored, okay? I’m sick of English. And history. What use are those? Why doesn’t my school teach computer coding or something interesting and useful that might actually lead to a job?”
Lauren kept calm. “Maybe we can find you a weekend class on computing if that’s what you’d like. But school is important, too. And studying. Our choices have consequences.”
“Yeah, that’s right.” Mack gave her a hard look. “They do.”
Something about the way her daughter was staring at her didn’t feel right.
“Mack—”
Mack slid off the stool and slung her schoolbag over her shoulder. “Are we done here? Because I have a ton of homework.”
“We’ll talk about this another time.”
“Great. Something to look forward to.”
Lauren thought, I don’t have the patience for this. “Guests are arriving at eight. Dad will be home around seven, so I thought we could have a private celebration before the party.”
“I have to study. And we both know he won’t be home by seven. He never is.”
“He’s not going to work late on the day of his party.” She said it with more conviction than she felt and Mack shrugged.
“Whatever.” She sauntered off with an indifference and nonchalance that Lauren could never have managed to achieve at any age, certainly not sixteen.
One teenage girl. How hard could it be to handle one teenage girl?
Lauren went upstairs to change and put on her makeup and tried not to think about the time Mack would have sat in the middle of the bed, watching her mother with hungry, admiring eyes.
It seemed that idolizing your mother had an expiration date.
Before leaving the bedroom she checked her reflection in the full-length mirror.
The dress was new and flattered her slender frame. She was the same size she’d been at twenty. Four times a week without fail she went running. She also did yoga and Pilates and was careful what she ate.
It was important to always have a plan and stick to it. She wished Mack could see that.
She tried to ignore the voice in her head that reminded her what she’d been like at sixteen.
She needed to focus on the party.
Of course the one thing you did need at a party to celebrate a fortieth birthday was the person whose birthday it was, and by seven thirty there was still no sign of Edward.
“Told you.” Mack wandered past wearing a pair of skinny jeans that clung and a pair of heavy boots that Ed said made her look like a construction worker.
Don’t say a word, Lauren. Not a word.
“Dad probably got caught up at the office.” But as soon as Mack vanished into the den to watch a movie, Lauren pulled out her phone and sent Ed a quick text.
Are you on your way?
The doorbell rang and she felt a rush of relief. Maybe he’d forgotten his key.
But no, it was the string quartet arriving early.
