Come Fly With Me (66 page)

"It
must
be
very
tough
to
watch
your
daughter
grow
up
and
not
be
able
to
stop
it
or
fully
protect
her
from
the
world.
She's
a
great
girl,
and
right
now
she
has
respect
for
you.
But
that
will
change
if
you
don't
take
her
feelings
into
account.
She
needs
to
socialize
and
party
with
her
friends.
I
can
tell
you
that
today,
all
the
girls
that
were
at
the
party
last
night
are
burning
up
the
lines
and
texting
one
another
about
which
cute
guy
approached
which
girl.
Its
fun
stuff
and
she'll
be
missing
that
if
you
don't
reconsider
how
you
handle
it
.
She'll
become
resentful
and
then
your
real
problems
will
start.
A
friend
of
mine
once
told
me
that
the
pliant
branch
sways
in
the
wind
and
survives
to
grow
into
a
large
tree.
A
branch
that
is
stiff
will
snap
off
at
the
first
strong
wind."

"Wow,
you're
really
good
at
this
kind
of
thing."

"It's
just
that
I
remember
being
a
teenager,
and
I
had
a
strong,
domineering
father
that
was
always
'right'."

"So
how
did
that
all
work
out?"

"The
difference
was
I
had
a
terrific
mother
who
would
plead
my
case
to
my
father
and
smooth
over
our
rough
patches.
But
don't
think
I
didn't
threaten
to
run
away
more
than
once.
My
relationship
with
my
father
stayed
challenging
for
many
years
after
that.
It
was
only
in
the
last
couple
of
years
that
he
actually
allowed
himself
to
be
proud
of
me
and
my
life
decisions."

He
shook
his
head
slowly,
"You're
an
amazing
woman,"
he
said
as
he
got
up.
"You've
given
me
a
lot
to
think
about.
It
would
please
me
greatly,
even
after
you're
done
with
the
portrait
if
somehow
you
could
stay
in
Kaitlin's
life,
as
a
mentor/friend.
I
know
it's
a
lot
to
ask,
but
I
think
she'd
really
enjoy
that."

"I'd
enjoy
that,
too.
Would
you
like
a
cup
of
coffee,
or
tea?"

"No
thank
you,
I
have
to
get
back.
I
think
an
apology
is
in
order."
He
smiled
as
he
took
her
hand
in
his
and
bent
his
head
to
kiss
it.
"You'll
be
a
great
mother
one
day."

Allison
watched
as
he
walked
down
the
staircase.
She
was
taken
aback
by
his
parting
words,
but
she
didn't
feel
the
usual
panic
when
she
heard
a
statement
like
that.
Maybe
it's
high
time
I
took
my
'friend's'
advice
and
applied
it
to
my
own
life,
she
thought.

Allison
leaned
against
her
kitchen
counter
sipping
her
first
coffee
of
the
morning.
She
held
the
New
York
Times
Sunday
crossword
and
swore
skillfully
under
her
breath.
Only
cryptologists
registered
with
the
CIA
can
do
these
things,
she
muttered,
Monday's
and
Tuesday's
could
be
done
in
pen
in
at
least,
while
Wednesday
and
Thursday
required
pencil
and
a
few
cheats
off
the
internet.
Friday's
was
a
lost
cause—actually,
she
felt
like
a
lost
cause.
Yesterday's
good
feelings
had
somehow
bled
into
melancholy
overnight.
She
was
drained
and
thrilled
that
she
had
nothing
planned
for
the
day.
Her
fluffy,
bunny
slippers
and
her
ratty,
favorite
robe
would
be
her
companions
for
the
next
eighteen
hours.
Was
someone
ringing
her
doorbell?
She
wasn't
expecting
anyone.
Ignoring
it,
she
took
another
crack
at
the
puzzle.
What
was
that?
Was
that
a
pebble
being
thrown
at
her
window?
Oh,
for
the
love
of
G-d.

She
threw
open
the
window
and
saw
Alex
waving
at
her
madly,
"Your
bell
isn't
working.
Open
the
lobby
door."

Reluctantly
she
rang
him
in
and
stood
in
the
doorway
to
discourage
him
from
feeling
welcome.
"What's
so
urgent
that
you
were
willing
to
risk
shattering
my
window?
I
do
have
a
telephone,"
she
said.

"Which
you
refuse
to
answer,"
he
replied.
"I
have
a
dozen
warm
bagels,
one
of
every
flavor
because
I
didn't
know
which
you'd
prefer.
Are
you
going
to
let
me
in?"
He
shoved
the
door
open
with
his
elbow
and
frowned,
"Were
you
planning
on
getting
dressed
today?"
He
wrinkled
his
nose.
"Showering,
maybe?"