I didn’t argue, but I did worry she was thinking about her argument with Tommy and trying to appease me at the same time.
When I stood, I squeezed her hand. “You know there’s no pressure from me, right?”
“Yep, I know.” Giving me a come-hither look, she made her way to bed, sliding off her robe before she slid under the covers.
There wasn’t much more talking after that, only a lot of moaning.
Margaret
“Mommm, we don’t need to go. I want to go to Penny’s. Pleeease?” Priscilla pleaded with me after school. Seated in the passenger seat of the Volvo, she pouted and aimed her death glare at my profile.
“We can’t cancel now.”
“Is this because Dad was mean over the weekend? Mick said to forget it.”
“Let’s leave Mick out of this,” I said firmly.
I cracked my window, desperate for some fresh air. In reality, I wanted to roll it all the way down and stick my head out of it. My heart was pounding in rhythm with my head, and I could feel the vein in my temple pulsing.
Focusing on the road, I spoke again. “Look, I’m not excited about going either, but we need to.”
“I. Am. Fine,” Priscilla said, scowling as she crossed her arms over her chest.
“I know, honey.”
“Then why? I’m going to have dinner with Dad next week. I’ll tell him that you didn’t do anything wrong.”
“That’s exactly why we’re going. You shouldn’t have to tell Dad anything of the sort.” I made a left turn, then glanced at her. “And the way we lived, we shouldn’t have had to live that way.”
“Mom, please. Is this about Mick? I’m fine with it. You know that.”
I pulled into a small parking lot and cut the engine. “Let’s save it for in our session. We need to go, Priss. Period. Then you can see your friends.”
Not waiting for a response, I grabbed my keys from the center console and tossed them in my purse. Remembering that today was Priscilla’s first day without the sling, I walked around to open her door for her. She got out a little less gingerly than I would have liked, but I kept those thoughts to myself.
Sophie Schroeder, PhD, greeted us as we walked into the waiting room, then ushered us inside her office.
“You must be Priscilla,” she said, extending a hand toward my frowning daughter.
When Priscilla extended her left hand, Dr. Schroeder slapped her own forehead. “I forgot. How is your arm? Your mom told me about your injury over the phone.”
“Oh,” Priscilla said. “It’s better now, thanks,” she added, adjusting her attitude.
“Please sit,” Dr. Schroeder said, and we did.
I grabbed the chair while Priscilla sank into the loveseat. Her mood was too big for us to sit next to each other.
“So, like I said, your mom filled me in a little over the phone, and I know the last few months have been stressful. I’d like to hear from you, though.”
I crossed my legs and waited. Truthfully, I didn’t know the therapist was going to dive right into it so quickly.
Priscilla sat silent for a moment, which was the first indicator that we were in trouble. My daughter was never quiet.
“I don’t think we need this,” she finally said. “I mean, we’re finally good. I always knew my dad was a jerk, but I couldn’t say it. Now I can.”
When I opened my mouth, Dr. Schroeder quickly lifted her hand, telling me with her eyes to keep quiet. “Were you worried for your mom?” she asked nonchalantly.
Priscilla sat quietly again, then cut right to the chase when it came to everything that was going on. “I was, so I tried to be at friends’ houses. That was wrong, but now I don’t have to worry anymore. Weird thing is, I don’t think my dad would hurt me. He won’t, I mean, and Mom is safe now. I just want to move on. You know this thing with Mick, she’s letting it get to her, but she shouldn’t. I mean, I know about ...you know, and it’s fine. I want her to be happy.”
