Break Point Down Page 20
“Appreciate your efforts, babe, but what's going on?”
“Nothing. Just a rotten day with rotten people.”
“Teachers, students?”
“They're all jerks.”
“Too bad you're so wimpy with your opinions.”
“You asked.”
“So I did. What happened?”
“Just some stuff about Dad, and being ex-rich.”
“I see.”
He studied her face for a moment, frowning as he began to unload the dysfunctional dishwasher whose only useful application was that of a drainer.
“Perhaps,” he said after a few moments, “you—we—should think of some good comebacks. People are going to say stupid things.”
“I'm not very good at comebacks,” she groused, savagely slamming the frying pan onto a burner. “I'm not very good at anything. Just ask Dad.”
“Kari!” He was stunned.
She ran out of the kitchen, and he heard her sobbing in her room. For a while, he stood by her door, uncertain, then slowly walked back to the kitchen. He turned off the burners and scraped the half-burned food into the garbage disposal. He thought furiously while he rinsed off the plates. No solutions popped into his head, and he picked up the phone and ordered a pizza.
When it arrived a half hour later he knocked on her door.
“Come on, we got a pizza.”
To his relief she came out, and they ate in silence. Afterward, she turned to go back to her room when he stopped her.
“Can't you stay here for a few minutes, Kari? We need to talk.”
“I don't want to talk.”
“Like it or not, we've got to talk now and then. You had a rotten day. Okay. I have'em, too. But let's not take them out on each other, okay?”
She sat down, resting tense elbows on the kitchen table.
“I'm sorry.”
“I wish I could help, Kari.”
“You do,” she whispered, and started crying, quietly and almost soundlessly, not like the angry sobbing of an hour ago. He stood by her, stroking her hair as she laid her head on her arms. After a long while she calmed down and straightened up.
“I'm sorry, Uncle Kitt. I know I'm a pain. I just wish—”
“What?”
She shrugged.
“It's stupid. But I wish things were as before. I just want to go back.”
“I know. But when you're down, you keep going. Sooner or later the opportunity comes, and you have to be there for it.”
She smiled through her tears.
“You talk like a tennis player.”
“Fancy that.”
He returned from running Thor with a massive headache, and tried to remember what he'd told Kari about keeping hope. Words.
The ray of hope after their talk was blacked out quickly in the weeks that followed, when the changes he'd noticed since the sentencing seemed to gather momentum. More and more, Kari stayed out late, and complaints from school piled up. That her excuses were lies was clear, but when he confronted her she burst into tears and told him he didn't understand and nobody cared about her. So he ended up comforting her and feeling used.
When she came home from her friend's house late that Saturday evening he watched her stumble up the driveway and knew that the beer under the bed had been hers. How many other things had he missed and what else had she lied about?
She walked in with careful, measured steps, and mumbled a greeting, heading directly for her room.
“Kari, come here a minute.”
She turned and took a few cautious steps back into the room.
“Late again, girl.”
“Sorry.”
“You weren't at Jenny's.”
“We went to—to—to a friend's house.”
“Friend run a bar?”
Her indignation was pathetic, but the words came out mildly incoherent and slurred, and she seemed to realize she was doing her case no good, and retreated into a sullen silence.
“Sit down.”
“I am tired.”
“I bet. You've been drinking.”
“Did not. I don't, don't— ”
They weren't going to get anywhere tonight. First thing tomorrow then.
“Go to bed, Kari. We'll talk in the morning.”
He couldn't get to sleep that night, and took Thor out well before dawn. When he came back she had just woken up and walked past him to the bathroom. She looked pale and her hair was somehow stuck to the side of her face with something pinkish brown. He caught a whiff of vomit and stale liquor and stepped back. Good, it had made her sick. Maybe she'd look in the mirror and feel disgusted.
But if he thought that the experience had softened her up for a good heart-to-heart, he was mistaken. When he pressed her, she insisted someone had spiked her Coke. He gave a sarcastic sigh.
“Yeah right. And I'm the queen of England.”
“You don't trust me.”
“Should I?”
“Other kids’ parents don't rag on them every minute. You're always on my case. I never do anything right.”
Taken aback by the accusation, he quickly scanned his memory. Was he that demanding? She saw his hesitation and pressed her advantage.
“You dictate every breath I take. I have to be home at freakin’ ten o'clock. Nobody has to be home that early. All my friends think you're the lousiest parent they know.”
“Good thing I'm not running for Mr. Congeniality. Since they haven't met me, it's clear where that comes from.”
“You always trap me with words. I suppose you're going to ground me now, right?”
“You think I should just let this pass?”
“It's never happened before.”
“So I should give you a medal for never coming home drunk before?”
“If you weren't so strict it wouldn't have happened. You make me hate to come home.”
“Don't even try to make this my fault, Kari.”
“Well, it is! You'd drive anybody crazy with your damn rules!”
“Don't you swear at me, girl,” he told her angrily. “I've had it up to here with your whining. If I don't cut it as a parent, you're welcome to talk to your mother and see if you can work out something you like better. But while you're here, you play by the rules. Got that?”
She jerked her head away and clamped her mouth shut.
“I want you home right after school. We'll decide what is to be done.”
“You mean you'll decide. Everything always has to be your way.”
“Kari, shut up!”
When Danny and Tess arrived for an overnighter they tactfully refrained from comments on the changes in Kitt's living conditions, but Danny cornered him about Kari.
“She's changed, Kitt,” he told his friend. “She looks like a pro.”
“I know. I argue with her about the makeup, the clothes. Doesn't do a bit of good.”
“She used to be clingy with you. Right now she's mad and defiant as all get out.”
He nodded. “That's about it. She's challenging my authority every step of the way. I'm not nuts about the kids she hangs out with. Some of them look like gangbangers. When I tell her she's too young for dating and I won't allow it, she just calls it something else.”
“Tough rule to enforce. Some kids date in fourth and fifth grade now.”
“I know. It's not that I don't want her around guys. I just thought after all she's been through it would take some pressure off her. And the makeup—well, don't think I am not tempted now and then to go at her with soap and water.”
“You need some help with this, Kitt,” said Tess, frowning. “Believe me, this is not going to go away by itself. She needs therapy, and you need help in setting boundaries for her.”
”What good do boundaries do if I can't enforce them? When I cross her, she tells me I'm not her father, and threatens to go live with one of her friends.”
“She's manipulating you.”
“I know that. But what if she does move in wi
th one of those losers? I talked with a couple of the parents. They think I'm a retard. The answer to everything is don't push, get the kid a contraceptive patch, and use a designated driver. Some of her friends basically live on their own. Some get money from home. I am supposed to let her go there?”
“That's why it's such a good bluff for her. It works. The way she plays you, that's not abnormal for a thirteen-year-old.”
“I don't even know what is normal. I just hope this isn't it.”
”You've got to get some help, Kitt. And you can't wait. I doubt she's going to move right out on you, but just the same, you need some professional input.”
“But I know she can do it. Half of the kids she hangs out with seem to be living just here and there, with their families one day and then for weeks at a time at different friends’ houses or whatever. I know I'm an amateur here, but don't the parents ask questions when some strange kid is still there for breakfast three days later? Kari could go right out and find some place to sleep where there were no rules, no questions, no expectation other than that she cause no trouble.”
“You can't let her blackmail you.”
“But I can't let her mess up her whole life, either.”
Danny shook his head.
“Looks to me like she's gonna do what she's gonna do.”
“Maybe, but I've got to try.”
“You're taking on too much. Your life has been living hell since your retirement. Taking on an abused teenager by yourself, no rule book, no referee. You've got to get yourself out.”
“You mean I just dump her?”
Tess spoke up.
“You can get counseling.”
“I have made appointments for her. She won't go.”
“Then you go. Get it started. Find out what you can do. You may have to give her an ultimatum. Tough love, they call it. Call her bluff. Quit letting her run the show.”
“She has a curfew, ten o'clock on school days, eleven in the weekend. She breaks it all the time, says I'm dictatorial. The other day she came home at three in the morning. I was losing it, and we had a major fight. It always winds up the same. She runs into her room, slams the door, and I can talk to Thor about it for all she cares.”
“You need a mediator,” said Tess. “You need someone else to be the bad guy for a while, and you need some rules you agree on, with consequences when she breaks them. Consequences she cannot escape.”
“Sounds good. And when she walks out after I ground her, what do I do? Drag her back inside, provided I can find her? Kick her out of the house?”
“I don't know,” she told him, “but you can't let this go on. Somebody must have some ideas on this. You're not the first guy with a rebellious teenager on his hands. The people at the abuse clinics may have some suggestions. Just don't keep going at this alone.”
“Danny told me a little,” he hesitated a moment and she came to his aid.
“About my experience with abuse?”
“Yes. Do you mind my bringing it up?”
“No. I told him it was all right for you to know.”
“Were you this age?”
“Pretty close. And believe me, I wasn't easy to get along with for a few years.”
“Years?”
“Years. There are no shortcuts.”
“You mean I can count on going on like this for years?”
“Listen,” she told him, “Kari is not me and I am not Kari. Everyone is different. I wasn't molested by my father. My mother's boyfriend molested me, and when she found out she ditched him quick. So I was supported.”
“You didn't tell?”
“Not right away. It's hard to explain. You blame yourself. You're scared to tell. And if it's your own dad, you're scared about breaking up the family.”
He nodded vigorously.
“She doesn't want to talk about it. I don't know for how long it went on before she told. But you can't talk her out of feeling guilty. I think she's still scared, but Jeff's out of the way and she still won't talk. I used to think it was because it would bring in the police, but it's more than that. She feels responsible. And now she thinks okay, he's in jail and I'm off the hook.”
“That's very common, Kitt. And I may warn you about something else. A lot of molested kids get into trouble with drugs, and some become promiscuous.”
“But why? You'd think sex would be the last thing they'd want to mess with.”
“It's not about sex. The stuff I sent you explained about the power issue that goes with abuse. A kid that's been abused like that tends to lose a lot of self-esteem.”
“You got that right.”
“And promiscuity may mean different things to different kids. It may be rebellion. To some it may be a way of belonging somewhere after their families are ripped apart. For others sex is a tool. That kind of sex rarely has much to do with love or even with attraction. It has to do with manipulation and self-esteem. They may be playing a little power game of their own.”
“You think she's sleeping around?”
“I have no idea. And if she is inclined that way, it may not have started yet.”
“Dear Lord, Tess, she is thirteen!”
“Only in calendar years. Unfortunately, a lot of kids are sexually active younger than that. All of that needs to be addressed by counseling. You're going to have to confront that issue with her.”
“How?”
“Probably sit her down and say something like, ‘I've made an appointment at such and such a place, and we're going there together and see what we can do to get our lives straightened out.’ And then do it.”
“And if she refuses to go?”
“Then you go and get some suggestions on how to handle her, and how to get her in there.”
He paced around the room like a caged lion. Finally he stood in front of her, his face somber.
“I know there aren't any easy solutions. I used to think a little time and a lot of love would do it, but I know better now. You're right, we're not going to get through this on our own. The other night she came home drunk, and I'm pretty sure she's been drinking before. Who knows what else goes on that I don't have a clue about. Everything I've done seems to have screwed her up worse. She tells me I'm a lousy parent and I boss her around every minute of her life.”
“It's a familiar tune, Kitt.”
He sat back on the couch and Danny and Tess came to sit by him.
“This is not your fault, Kitt,” said Tess, squeezing his hand. “It isn't anything you did or didn't do. Don't go making the same assumptions she does. It doesn't show yet, but you've been good for her.”
“You'll be all right, buddy,” Danny added. “I don't know many who would do what you're doing.”
“There are places,” Tess told him, “crisis centers and places like that, where you can start. They will know what resources are available. It doesn't have to be expensive. Danny and I have talked about this. We want you to promise us one thing.”
“What?”
“If you find no services you can afford, or the ones you can afford are not helping, then you have to let us help you get the kind of counseling she needs. I know you're proud and you don't want anyone to help, but you can't afford to put this off. We are your friends.”
He didn't trust himself to speak right away. Finally, he sighed.
“If it comes to that, I will call on you for Kari.”
“That's all we ask,” said Danny. He did not push any further.
The night she didn't come home he faced the reality of his failure. He had tried to study all night. He had lifted weights till sweat oozed in rivulets down his face and back, and then he slumped down in a corner and hit bottom.
Three days later when he came home she was in the living room talking on the phone. When he motioned for her to put the phone down she slammed it angrily on the couch and ran straight to her room without speaking to him. Relieved and furious, he debated with himself—go after her and force a one-on-one? Tell her how he'd spent t
he past few days searching and worrying, skipping classes and meals, checking with the police? She'd blame him for laying guilt trips on her. He'd get mad and she'd do the martyr thing. Better inhale a few times and take a little time to get this right. What if she didn't come out of her room for dinner? She would, he promised himself grimly.
But Kari knew when she had pushed him far enough, and came out when he called a half hour later. They ate in silence, and when she rose to leave the room he stopped her.
“Not so fast, Kari. You'd better explain yourself.”
She stood, surly.
“I don't know what the reason is for all this hostility. But whatever it is, I am telling you now that something's gonna change.”
She shrugged, and he saw the stubborn set of her mouth that he hated, and that meant she wasn't going to talk.
“Either you live here, or you don't. I am willing to negotiate rules, but the bottom line is you obey them. You make up your mind.”
“And if I don't live by your rules I get kicked out?”
“Let's get clear on this, Kari. I'd rather have you stay than leave, but if you feel you can't live by the rules you and I agreed on, this arrangement won't work. I will not let you walk all over me. I won't put up with your staying out for three days and then expecting to come back and no questions asked. I don't do that to you, and I won't let you do that to me.”
“So I do it your way or I am out of here, is that it?”
“You got it.”
“Great. You're getting just like Dad.”
“That one's getting real old.”
“Some choice you give me.”
“You and I need help. Maybe with counseling we'll figure out where to go from here.”
“I don't want counseling.”
“Tough. We're way past worrying about what we want.”
“The police will get involved.”
“That's not an issue anymore either. You need help. I need help. We're going to get it.”
“Dad will get more time in jail— is that what you want?”