“I knew you’d make the party a big deal. It was nothing.” She sweeps a couple fries through a mountain of ketchup.
“All evidence to the contrary.” Clint’s words are sharp, and Erika drops her next bite onto her tray and shoves her hands in her lap.
“So, you met him.” I try to put a smile into my words before we lose her. “Maybe you didn’t know how old he was? Did he look young? Did he know how old you were?” My tone, which began normal, has developed a bit of a shrill.
Clint’s eyes flash to mine as if he’d expect me to focus on the age gap.
I swallow.This is our daughter with a grown man. Get over yourself.
“No. I don’t know. You’re missing the point. The party was after the football game. There were lots of people, college-aged and probably beyond. I don’t know. He upset me this morning and I’ve just—never mind. I have learned my lesson.” Erika’s shoulders slump as she pushes away her tray. “I’ll go back to being me.”
Clint picks up his burger but just holds it in front of him, his eyes still trained on me.
Are we missing the point? Probably. I feel like I’m way too close to an impressionist painting made of colored dots. I know I need to step back to see the bigger picture, but my nose keeps getting pressed toward the canvas. “What else were you going to say?”
“Nothing. I’m done. Are you guys almost ready?” Erika grabs her tray.
“You’ve only taken one bite.” I gesture to her burger.
“Tell us why you took the picture.” Clint lays his hand on the table and loops a pinkie finger over Erika’s tray, keeping it on the table.
Erika slumps against the ribbed red-vinyl cushions of the booth.
“Honey, we just want to talk about it.” I look away from Clint’s nail turning white as he bears down on the molded plastic of her tray. “We’re not mad. We only want—”
“I know you want to talk about it. You want to talk about everything.” Erika furtively glances around as if she realizes how loud she’s gotten. The place is busy. Three tables of little kids with their families surround us. No one is paying attention.
Clint takes another bite of his burger. One I am sure he has to choke down. My stomach has lost all appetite, again. No way do I want to eat a fry. I pop one in my mouth anyway. We both seem to know it is our turn to be quiet and appear patient.
“The picture was nothing. I’m sorry I took it. I don’t know why. I can’t believe you saw it.” She crosses her arms in front of her chest.
“Did you send it to anyone?” I ask as quietly and as neutrally as I can.
Erika yanks the tray from the table and lurches from the booth. “No.”
20
AS WE ARE PILING BACK INTO THE CAR,my phone pings with a message from Terrence. Another executive meeting to discuss the thumb drive just finished. My fingers hover over my screen. I don’t know where I should be. I just need someone to tell me what to do. As a parent, as a portfolio manager, as a wife who’s caught in something ugly... there are too many catastrophes, too many directions to run.
“You should head down there.” Clint keeps his gaze on the rearview as he pulls the car out of our space.
My heart swells. He read my mind. I glance over at him. He nods, but his eyes don’t leave the road. A warmth spreads through my chest. It’s something.
I twist in my seat. “Erika, I can stay?”
“I’m done talking.” She looks out the window.
“We’ll keep you home from school for a few days.”
“I’d already decided that,” Erika snaps from the back seat.
“No. We decide these things as a family.” Clint’s eyes flash at the rearview.
“Family,” she huffs.
I whip around. “What? Tell us what is wrong with you.” The anger in my voice surprises even me, but I dig in. “In fact, give me your phone.”
Erika squints at me like I’m something stuck to the bottom of her shoe.
