“Just some math, which I already did. And we have a project for social studies.”
“Oh yeah? What’s it on?”
“We can choose. Either the causes of the Civil War or Reconstruction, you know, after the war.”
“So what are you thinking about?”
She shrugged. “I haven’t thought about it much yet.” She was drifting back toward the family room, but he didn’t want her on the couch all afternoon.
“When’s it due?”
“Don’t worry. I have plenty of time.”
“I’m not worried, just trying to stay on top of things. That’s all.”
“It’s my project. You don’t need to stay on top of it.”
“Hey!” He cut her a look. “There’s no call to speak like that.”
Out of nowhere she crumpled.
“Peanut, what’s the matter?” He smoothed her hair, a hard pit in his stomach as she sobbed into his sweatshirt. “Is it the project? I’m happy to help, or if you don’t want help, that’s okay too. I know I need to give you more space. I get that. I’m sorry.” Somehow he always managed to step in it.
“It’s not you.”
“Tell me then.” He could take pretty much anything except Lilah crying. That eviscerated him.
“I called Mom the other day, but she never called back. I even left her a message.” She buried her face in his chest and wouldn’t look at him.
So that was it. Goddamn Sophie. What kind of mother wouldn’t even pick up the phone? She didn’t deserve a child in this life or any other. He took a breath. Even when Sophie was being a shit, he tried not to badmouth her. The child psychologist had made a point of telling him that he needed to support Lilah’s relationship with her mother. Whatever shape it took. So he buttoned it up even when he wanted to wring Sophie’s neck.
“She’s probably just busy,” he said, rubbing Lilah’s back in small circles. “I’m sure she’ll call when she gets a chance.” He was so fucking sick of making excuses for Sophie, but how did you tell a kid her mother was a self-centered jerk who was never going to change? It would have been better if Sophie had dropped dead.
The one time Lilah went to Colorado to see her mother had been a disaster. Lilah had been eight, tentative about seeing the mother she hardly knew, but still young enough to be hopeful. Glenn was wary but couldn’t think of a way to say no. Right from the beginning, Lilah was homesick, calling to ask what Charliewas doing, inquiring about the bees. There was a boyfriend in the house, which Glenn didn’t like. Some other man around his daughter. Sophie, newly enamored with the idea of motherhood, bought books and toys for a younger child, then from what Glenn could tell got frustrated when Lilah didn’t use them. She paraded Lilah around town, introducing her to friends but forgot a child needs lunch. She sounded relieved when Lilah asked to come home early.
Lilah put a gloss on the visit once she got back, talking about Colorado and what they’d done, but Sophie didn’t return her calls, and Lilah wilted a little more each day, which made Glenn furious. It was one thing to trifle with him, unpardonable to hurt his daughter.
Lilah pulled back, eyes wet. “Maybe she’s backpacking and doesn’t have service. That happened before, remember?”
“Yeah, that’s probably it. You know how bad the service is there.” He kissed her forehead, hoping she couldn’t see what he really thought. Her optimism slayed him, how she found reasons to believe. Doubtful that Sophie was backpacking in April, with the kind of snow they got in the mountains, but he wouldn’t lay bare the truth, that she just didn’t give a damn. Sophie had never wanted to be a parent. Glenn was the one who’d urged her, said it would bring them closer. Too young and naïve to recognize they were never going to make it.
“Whatever.” Lilah swiped at an eye, ready to move on. Her mood changes were so quick he could never keep up.
“Hey, I’ve got to see a guy who’s having trouble with some bees. Why don’t you come with me? Shouldn’t take long. We can pick up Thai food on the way home from that place you like on Chestnut.”
“Maybe I’ll just stay here.”
“And do what, sit on your phone all afternoon? I doubt you’re going to start that social studies project this minute. Come with me; it’s a nice day. We can bring Charlie too.”
“Bring Charlie to some bee guy’s house? You never do that.” She looked skeptical, but he could tell she was wavering.
“We’ll leave him in the car with the windows open. He’ll think it’s great just to get out of the house.”
She smiled. “Yeah, he doesn’t care where he goes.”
“What do you say?”
She chewed a nail. “I don’t know…”
