Love Inspired January 2014(268)

                Workaholism. Alcoholism. Perfectionism. Transferring fears of guilt, rejection and failure onto their kids. Without the right coping skills, the teens ran to whatever distractions or pleasures they could get to the quickest. It was sad.

                And it made Max wonder if he’d be better off never bringing his own children into the world someday. Brady teased him about finding the right woman already so their kids could play together one day, but he didn’t know. His own father had screwed him up—and it was solely by the grace of God that Max had escaped the destructive cycle. He had no guarantees he would be able to keep it up.

                “I don’t feel anything. I’m fine.” Cody crossed his arms.

                “I understand this isn’t a fun topic.” Max shifted forward in his chair, having chosen to sit beside Cody rather than let the desk separate them. “But it’s probably more important than you realize. If you can just tell me a little about how—”

                “No!” Cody stood up, skinny chest heaving, cheeks red and eyes glassy. Clearly, he was fighting a losing battle with tears. “I don’t have to, and I don’t want to.”

                Time to retreat. But they wouldn’t end the session in such a negative place. Max gestured for Cody to sit back down. He obeyed, grudgingly, his eyes as wary as a doe’s in November, and fixed his gaze somewhere near the potted plant behind Max’s chair.

                Fortress closed. But he’d dealt with worse. There was always a drawbridge if you looked hard enough. “There’s one more thing we need to talk about today, then you can go on to your chores.” He pressed on, pretending not to watch as Cody slowly regained control of his emotions and unclenched his jaw. “How are you doing with your mom being here on campus?”

                “I hardly ever see her. So it’s fine.” He rolled his eyes. “Wish she’d avoid me this much at home.”

                Ouch. That would have cut right through Emma’s jean jacket and straight into her heart. Max struggled to hide his surprise at the boy’s choice of words. “You feel smothered at home?” Well, didn’t every teen?

                “I guess. I mean, she’s just always on me, wanting to know what I’m doing and where I’m going and who I’m with.”

                He hid a smile. That just meant she was doing her job as a mom—and doing it well. “Don’t you think that maybe some of your past choices have given her a reason to ask a lot of questions?”

                He flushed red. “Yeah.”

                “So give her some slack, okay? Here’s a secret about parents.” He leaned forward as if he were about to reveal the mother lode of teenaged treasure.

                Cody pretended indifference, but his eyes lit with interest.

                “The more truth you tell them, the more they back off.” He knew that was the case more often than not, and he could easily see how Emma’s personality fed into that. If Emma could trust Cody again, she’d be more comfortable giving him some space. And teen boys needed a degree of space—he could remember the hormones and the struggle that came with being thirteen. It was a balancing act, and Emma and Cody were about to topple off the wire if something didn’t change.

                “You think so?” Cody squinted with uncertainty.

                “It’s a fact. You need to show your mom she can trust you. And she can’t trust you until you make good decisions in front of her. Be responsible, that sort of thing.”

                “Like, doing my chores the first time she harps on me?”