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“I’m sorry I upset you earlier.”
“Whatever.”
“Not whatever. I’m trying to apologize here.”
“You’re always sorry, but you never change. What’s the point of apologizing?”
Guilt stabs my heart. “Look, I know I suck at this whole dad thing, but I’m trying. I promise I’m trying.”
Noah opens the door an inch wider. “You don’t suck.”
“We’re two different people, so I’m trying to understand how you operate. But it’s not easy. Everything is simple to me. If I’m mad, I tell someone why I’m mad. If I don’t want to do something, I don’t do it. I don’t get these mean girl mind games.” I hike a shoulder. “And I don’t get why you’d steal someone’s candy bowl just to prove yourself to some girl.”
“She makes me so mad sometimes.”
“What does Hannah think of Reese?”
She shrugs.
“Maybe you should talk to her. Hannah has been your best friend since you were in elementary school. Your friendship should be stronger than some new girl. Maybe Hannah feels the same way you do and is too afraid to talk to you about it.”
“Maybe.” Her eyes drop to her feet. “I’m trying to glue the bowl back together, but it’s not working.”
“Let me see.”
She lets go of the doorknob, and Romeo pushes past me and leaps onto the bed.
It kills me every time I walk into Noah’s room. Gone are the pink ruffles and little girl toys.I want a room makeover, she’d stated over dinner one night.Everything is so babyish.I offered to get her a new comforter, but she wanted more than that. So I painted the walls a seafoam-green color and gave her the shore-themed room she wanted. Lately, it feels like something changes every time I turn around, and the baby girl I once knew is slipping away piece by piece.
Having a teenager in the house sometimes feels like living with a stranger.
I lower myself onto the corner of her bed and examine the crime scene on the floor. “You’re using the wrong kind of glue.”
“Oh.” Her head hangs. “All I have is Elmer’s.”
“I have Gorilla Glue in the garage. That’ll do the trick.” I flick my eyes to hers. “What happens after you put the bowl back together?”
She stares at the ceramic pieces. “I was going to leave it on her porch with a note.”
“Hmm.” I nod. “I’d like it if you rang her bell and talked to her, face to face.”
She gasps as if I told her to run around the block without any clothes on. “Dad, no.”
“Okay, okay.”
Her eyebrows pull together. “Okay?”
“Yeah, okay.”
“Why aren’t you fighting me on it?”
“What do you want me to say?”
“Something like, ‘If you did the crime, you need to own up to it. Stand there and look her in the eye and tell her what you did.’” She shrugs. “Something like that.”
My lip curls. “Why do I sound like a stuffy old British man?”
A laugh breaks free. “I don’t know.”
