Chapter 10

He spent the morning on simple projects. He still felt a little nervous and didn't properly settle into work until after lunch. By then he decided that if they were going to fire him, they would have done it by now. He focused on his research until it was time to go home.

Justine came in the door like a hurricane. Her bag flew across the room and slammed into the wall.

"I could just scream," she said.

"Then why don't you?"

"Really?"

"I won't mind."

She put her head back and let out a shriek. Patrick was sure the neighbours were going to be phoning the police.

"That was a pretty good scream," he said when the echoes had died. "You want to tell me what it's about?"

"Remember how I brought all those cookies to school for the bake sale? Kelly said that they looked store bought. There was no way that I could have made them. Ms. Hall said they did look awfully professional and I just lost it." Justine looked at him. "I yelled at them that I made the cookies, and they should be happy about it. I got sent to the principal's office for yelling at the teacher, but the principal made them sell my cookies anyway. They made all kinds of money off them, so Kelly is saying that it proves I bought them. Every time I tried to say that I baked them, the teacher would ask me if I wanted to go back to the principal's office. I said 'Yes, cause it's better than being called a cheat.'" So I ended up spending the whole day with the principal. He liked my cookies. He bought two dozen, and now everyone hates me."

Patrick felt like doing a little screaming himself, only the phone rang.

"Hello," he said.

"It's Lee. How did the bake sale go?"

Patrick gave her an abbreviated version.

"Oh dear, Tommy is in her class and that's very close to what he said. I'd hoped he was exaggerating."

"The problem seems to be as much this teacher as the girl. She thinks this is all because Justine hasn't moved on from her grief."

"I think she is doing very well, but it might not hurt for her to talk to someone about her feelings. Especially with all this going on at school. I know someone who is very good with children. I can ask her if she'd see Justine."

"I'll talk to Justine and see what she says, but I can call around. I don't want to impose on you."

"It isn't imposing. Justine is a friend, and you'll find that the good counsellors have waiting lists years long."

"Hold on a minute." He put his hand over the phone. "Justine, Ms. Palenz has a friend that you might be able to talk to."

"You mean like a crazy person."

"No, I don't think she's crazy."

"Not her, me. You think I'm crazy."

"No, I don't, but sometimes even sane people need to talk about stuff."

"Let me talk to Ms. Palenz." Patrick handed her the phone. "Alone." He rubbed her hair then left the kitchen, closing the door behind him.

They talked for a long time, and Patrick was sure that he heard Justine crying at one point. She came out of the kitchen and handed the phone to him.

"I'm going to go and see her. I don't feel much like eating right now. I'm going to bed." She walked upstairs and into her room. The door closed firmly behind her.

"Hello?" he said.

"Still here."

"Justine said she was going to go talk to this counsellor."

"You aren't going to ask what we talked about?"

"If she wanted me to know she wouldn't have kicked me out of the room."

"You are wise beyond your years. When she is ready, she'll tell you. In the meantime I'll talk to my friend and set up an appointment."

"OK, just let me know when and where."

Patrick went back to the living room and sat for a long time in the dark. What am I doing wrong? He thought to himself. Being a kid shouldn't be this hard. "Tell me what to do, Ingrid." He whispered, but he didn't hear any answer.

"Dad?"

Justine stood in the dark looking in at him.

"Are you all right, Dad?"

"Yes."

"Then why are you sitting in the dark?"

"I'm thinking."

"Did Ms. Palenz tell you what we talked about?"

"I didn't ask."

"I told her she could tell you if you needed to know, but thanks for trusting me."

"When you're ready, I'll be here to listen."

"I'm hungry."

"I think there's some spaghetti sauce in the fridge."

This time Patrick set the table while Justine boiled water for the noodles and carefully heated up the sauce. She served up the plates and put them on the table.

She tried to twirl the noodles but they still wouldn't cooperate.

"Before you give up, try this," Patrick said. He got a spoon from the drawer and used it to separate a few strands out that he twirled up on his fork. The spoon helped him to get the fork to his mouth without incident.

Justine fetched her own spoon and tried it. She managed to finish the whole plate with only minor problems.

"Thanks, Dad," she said.

"I just remembered about the spoon trick."

"Not the spoon, or not just the spoon. How many Dads would let their kids eat spaghetti at midnight? Not yell at them for getting into trouble at school? Just, thanks."

"You're very welcome, though I'd prefer that you didn't spend too many days in the principal's office."

"OK." Justine sighed and headed back off to bed.

Patrick cleaned up the kitchen then followed her up the stairs. Justine hadn't closed the door, and Patrick could see her sleeping with her nose in her teddy bear.

"Sleep tight, angel."

"You too, Mom," came the barest whisper.

Patrick went to bed not sure if he should smile or cry.

***