The Parent Trap(60)
“I want to be that parent. Any advice on how I go about it?”
“Yes,” she said without hesitation. “If you’re sure you want to hear it.”
“I am.”
He could hear her draw a breath, as though she was gathering steam.
“Kate’s a smart, capable kid. I know you know that, but did you know she has a genuine passion for the fashion industry and a real flair for design?”
You need to hear her out, he told himself, trying to ignore the tension that bunched between his shoulders.
“I know you think it’s frivolous—”
“I’ve never said that.”
“Yes, you did.”
She was right. So much for hearing her out.
“And I can tell that you think Kate’s love of clothes and fashion trends is frivolous.”
He was sure her repetition of the word was meant to hammer her point home.
“I happen to share that love, and I’m here to tell you that I’ve worked hard to build a successful business. I’m proud of everything I’ve accomplished. And on this subject, I don’t think Kate’s the one who needs an attitude adjustment.”
“But I do?”
“Yes.”
Ouch. He didn’t know if he could explain where he was coming from without sounding mean-spirited, but he had to say it anyway. “Kate is a lot like her mother. Georgette was...is all about appearances. Clothes, hair, makeup, she even has a personal stylist.”
“Earlier, you told me about your father, how he left and shut you out, how he started a new family that you were never part of. Was there ever any danger of you becoming just like him?”
He didn’t know how to answer that question, but apparently it was rhetorical because she didn’t miss a beat.
“Of course you didn’t. You’re not your father’s clone. You and I have only just met, but I think I know you well enough to say you would never turn your back on your daughter. And I don’t have to meet your ex-wife to know that Kate isn’t a clone of her mother, either.”
“What about her schoolwork? I’m not being a responsible parent if I let her do the things she likes and ignore the things she doesn’t.”
Sarah sighed. “That’s not what I’m saying. Sit down and talk to her. With her, not at her. Ask her about her hopes and dreams, listen to what she has to say. Set aside your judgments and listen hard enough so you actually hear her. And then find a way to compromise.”
Talk, listen. Hear. “You make it sound easy.”
“Well, it’s not. Parenting is the toughest job you’ll ever have, but it’s also the most rewarding, don’t you think?”
He wanted the kind of connection and mutual respect she and her daughter had, but right now he was on his way to pick up his kid at a police station. “I’ll have to get back to you on that.”
Could he do the things she suggested? He had to. Failure wasn’t an option.
On the outskirts of Gibsons, he slowed to the posted speed limit. “Do you know where the station is?”
“I do. In another mile or so we’ll need to turn right. I can’t remember the name of the road, but I’ll know it when I see it.”
He was anxious to see Kate, to assure himself that she really was okay, but he worried about saying or doing the wrong thing. Something he had a real knack for.
You could ask an expert. He had one right here in the car with him.
“So you wouldn’t happen to have any other advice for a bungling father, would you?”
“What kind of advice?”
“Ah, like how to handle things when we get there.”
She reached out, and her hand on his arm was both unexpected and reassuring. “Stay calm and don’t overreact. It’s okay to let her know you were worried, but it’s not a good time to point fingers and lay blame. Make sure she knows you’re relieved to see her and that you’ll talk later, once you have your emotions under control.”
“Okay. I can do that.” He hoped.
“And when you do get home, don’t come down too hard on her.”
Good advice, he thought, since it was the coming down hard that had landed them in this mess in the first place.
“See if the two of you can find some middle ground.” She pointed to the intersection ahead. “We need to turn right here.”
Middle ground, he thought, signaling and making the turn she’d indicated. He had a feeling she had something very specific in mind, and he had absolutely no idea what that might be. Might as well ask, he told himself. It’s not as if he had anything to lose.
“You’ve probably already figured out that I’m a little dense when it comes to these things. What you mean by ‘middle ground’?”