Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 94903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
I pace the room and try to figure out what to do. I’m at my wit’s end. Somehow, I had convinced myself that she was doing better—that she could manage two days without blowing something up.
But I was wrong. And I find out about it when I get home.
“What did you say to her?” I ask. “What kind of verbal altercation did you engage in?”
“Chase, listen, I don’t think—”
“I want to hear her take responsibility for whatever she’s done to get thrown out of school for three days.”
My voice rises as disbelief in what I’m saying takes over.
“You want to know what I did?” Kennedy asks, her voice shaking. “I’ll tell you what I did. Mrs. Falconbury said if I had a mother, I’d know how to behave.”
What the fuck? I set my beer on the counter.
My blood runs cold as I force myself to remain calm. A fucking adult said this to my child?
Heads are going to roll.
“And I told her that …” Her bottom lip trembles. “I told her that not having a mother had nothing to do with my behavior because I have the greatest dad ever.”
She turns on her heel and bolts toward the hallway.
“Ken!” I shout.
“Leave me alone!”
Her feet pound against the stairs. The sound is punctuated by her bedroom door slamming.
“Fuck,” I say, rubbing a hand down my face.
Megan comes to me. She burrows the side of her face into my chest. She holds me tight despite the mud, dirt, and oil all over me.
“Give her a second,” Megan whispers. “Let her have a minute to herself.”
I close my eyes and focus on steadying my breath. Megan’s embrace helps. It centers me. And I’m sure it helped Kennedy today too.
“She’s a good girl, Chase,” Megan whispers.
I wrap my arms around Megan and kiss the top of her head.
Thank God she was with Kennedy today. I’m eternally grateful that my daughter didn’t have to battle the school alone. But I wonder … how long has this been going on? Has this happened before? Why has she never said anything to me?
Have I been wrong this whole time? A stream of memories floods my mind. No, I haven’t. She’s snuck out, stolen my truck, gotten detention—gotten suspended.
Is this a stage? Are there layers to all of this that I haven’t seen? Have I been focusing on the wrong thing?
More importantly, when does it end?
“I hate that this is where we are,” I say. “That it got to the point that she got into a sparring match with a fucking teacher, of all people. Did I miss something?”
Megan pulls away. “In her defense, her teacher is horrible. And if I can offer some advice—someone needs to contact the superintendent or school board about her. If she’s acting this way to Kennedy, she’s probably not the only kid she’s messing with.”
“I’ll tell you what I did. Mrs. Falconbury said if I had a mother, I’d know how to behave.”
What else has she said to my daughter?
I grit my teeth. “Yeah, well, I’ll be seeing Mrs. Falconbury again, and it’ll be less pleasurable than the first.”
“Want me to go with you?”
I look at Megan. “Actually, why am I just now hearing about this? Why didn’t you call me today?”
“Because what would you have done?”
I look at her. That’s not the point.
“You asked me to handle things, Chase. I handled it. You were however many hours away, and she was safe. There was no need for you to hurry home. You can handle it now.”
I raise a brow. “That’s not your call to make.”
“What?”
“This is a big fucking deal—especially if the school isn’t doing what’s right by Kennedy. I should’ve been there to advocate for her. Why did no one call me?”
“Probably because I’m on the emergency list because you added me.”
I scrub a hand roughly down my face. This is not going well.
“If you don’t trust me with her, you shouldn’t have added me to her contacts list,” Megan says, her words sharp.
“That’s not what this is about.”
“Then explain it to me because I’m confused.”
I groan, wrapping a hand around the back of my neck and squeezing.
It’s not that I don’t trust her with Kennedy. It’s not that at all. Actually, aside from my mother, I trust Megan with her more than anyone else.
The problem is that I feel removed from what’s going on with Kennedy.
But I don’t want to fight about it. I have bigger fish to fry.
“So does this have any effect on her schoolwork?” I ask, forcing myself to mentally move on for now. “Does she get to make up whatever they do in the three days she’s gone?”
“I don’t know.”
Breathe.
“Are you mad at me, Chase? Because I get the feeling you are.”
I turn around and face her.
A genuine concern glimmers in her eye, and my heart softens as I take her in. She took care of my kid today in a situation that was probably frustrating as hell. Am I mad at her? No. I’m just mad at the situation. At myself. At Mrs. Falcon-fucking-bury.