Enough to Miss Christmas

I broached the subject of punishment with Paul as we lay in bed. He shrugged away the topic. "She's a good kid. What could she do so bad?"

I was disappointed he didn't want to discuss the matter. I knew from the way my husband was touching me. Something far more basic was on his mind. I rolled over on top of him and reached down in his pajamas, rogue that I am.

"Want a little something to remember me by when I'm away for the weekend?" I asked. I wasn't really in the mood but often I let his wants transcend my really-don't-want-to's. I guessed he did the same. Maybe that's another definition of love. Anyway, it usually worked out to a pretty fun time, once we got into it.

Julie, Anne and Karen were doing homework together in the dining room while I was helping Timmy with his arithmetic in the kitchen. My ears picked up a volume and frequency change from the girls that spelled to my sensitive ears a secret was being discussed. People, young people in particular, don't understand a lowering of voices is a "tell" of the first order. Timmy rattled on in his nonstop fashion so I couldn't properly eavesdrop. Later, when I went up to kiss Karen good night, she was writing in her diary. She immediately covered it up.

"You know I promised not to peek in that. Ever."

"I'm sorry. It was an automatic reaction."

I asked her about the afternoon lull in the girl's conversation, trying to be subtle about it.

"Were you listening to us?" she asked. I could honestly admit I had not. I didn't add the reason was I couldn't quite hear.

"Any problems you want to talk about?"

She considered it. "It's kind of late and I'm tired."

"Your choice, but if It's important, don't keep it locked up if I might be able to help. You don't want to lay awake all night with an unresolved problem."

"I don't know if anyone can help. It's sort of a secret."

"You know our honesty pact. It has a cross-your-heart confidentiality clause."

My daughter smiled. "I know. I trust you."

"I guess it's your decision."

She thought further. "Yes, I want to talk about it, but not tonight. Maybe tomorrow morning on our drive to Connecticut to Aunt Suzie's house."

True to her word, Karen broached the subject the next morning, an hour into our auto trip. We'd stopped for coffee; both of us, a debaucher of children that I am. We were in a joyous mood. The day was perfect and we both were looking forward to seeing Suzie.