Father Of The Brat

“Put out the cigarette.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s bad for you.”

“So?”

“So you shouldn’t smoke.”

“You do.”

“I’m an adult. I’m allowed.”

“Mom never minded it.”

“Well, I do.”

Instead of following Carver’s command, Rachel lifted the cigarette to her lips and inhaled deeply, holding the smoke in her lungs for a good ten seconds before expelling it in a series of perfect, wispy white O’s.

Carver sighed wearily. “Okay, let’s try another one. Rachel, turn down the TV.”

Once again, Rachel acted as if Carver and Maddy were nowhere in the room.

“Rachel,” he tried again.

“What?”

“Turn down the TV.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s too loud.”

“So?”

“So the neighbors will complain.”

“Who cares what other people think?”

“You will, when the police show up at the door.”

“Mom never minded it.”

“Well, I do.”

Rachel picked up the remote control and aimed it at the television, but instead of urging the volume lower, she pushed it up even louder.

Maddy watched the girl with a practiced eye, seeing in Rachel a typical twelve-year-old girl who was crying out for attention, discipline and affection. Obviously she hadn’t received enough of any of those things in her previous way of life. Still, Rachel was actually one of the lucky ones, Maddy thought further. Maybe she hadn’t gotten everything she’d needed from her mother, but from what Maddy could tell, she hadn’t been physically or emotionally mistreated. A lot of kids would love to be in Rachel’s position. At least there was some hope for her and her father to build a solid, lasting, loving relationship. It wasn’t going to be easy, Maddy knew, but with her help, Rachel and Carver were probably going to be just fine. Eventually.