so much like you were before you became a father.” His mother grinned at him. “It’s kind of just retribution.”
Caleb scowled. “That isn’t helpful.”
“But just a little satisfying to me, honey.”
Finishing the slice of acorn bread, Caleb muttered, “What am I going to do with her? She keeps defying me and getting into trouble. I’m afraid that if I can’t find a way to reason with her, she’s going to go too far.” He sighed. “What is it with teenagers?” Including his younger self. “Why do they all seem to go crazy?”
Maddie laughed. “It’s called hormones. A body that’s mostly adult combined with a mind that’s mostly child.” She added, “Maybe you’re taking the wrong approach.” Her smile faded into a more serious expression.
“Wrong approach?” Was she going to place the blame in his corner? He couldn’t help feeling defensive. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“You’re so demanding with Angela that it surely backfires on you. You need to listen to your daughter, to understand what it is she wants. What is important to her.”
“You mean this new kick about her becoming an artist?”
“It’s not new, Caleb. She started drawing the moment she could use a crayon. You’ve been displaying her artwork for years.”
“That’s what you do when your kid creates something for you.”
“Even if you don’t like it?”
“I never said that. I love it. She has incredible potential. But thinking you can make a living as an artist isn’t practical.”
“So you dash her dreams.”
“What should I do? Encourage her to live in poverty? Being an artist doesn’t bring in a regular income. I keep trying to tell her she needs to have a real job and that she can do her art on the side.”
“Which makes her dream sound unimportant. An afterthought.”
“If I could make it work for her, I would.”
“Then try to help her find a way. There are jobs with regular incomes for trained artists. Help her see that she can channel her creativity to something that will support her like graphic arts—or teaching art—while she creates a portfolio that she can take to art shows or galleries. When you tell her to do art on the side, it sounds...dismissive. Be positive and supportive instead of demanding she do things your way all the time.”
Mom had a point. He could be gruff, he supposed. “All right. I’ll think about how I can do that.”
“Good.” Mom held out a plate to him. “More bread?”
“Did you think I might say no?” He took another piece.
As he spread the butter and jam, he realized his mother was staring at him intently. “Something on your mind, Mom?”
“So what’s going on with you lately? Terese Kistler said she saw you with the Huber woman walking through Green Meadows yesterday. Were you making peace over Angela?”
The reminder of their private walk through the development warmed Caleb inside. “As a matter of fact, Grace offered to give me a tour of Green Meadows, so I could see how it’s progressing. I was very impressed.”
“With the development or with Grace?”
He didn’t hesitate. “Both, actually.” Though he’d already realized his attraction to the woman was hopeless until he straightened things out with his daughter.
“Oh, I see.”
“No, you don’t.” He quickly tried to backtrack before his mother made a big deal of it. “We simply have a lot in common. Environment-wise, that is.”
She raised her eyebrows and gave him a challenging expression. “So you don’t actually like Grace? As a woman, I mean.”
“Yes, I like her.”
“Then you’ll ask her out.”
He shook his head. “The timing is all wrong.”
“Because she’s seeing someone else?”
“No. Well, maybe. I don’t know. I didn’t ask. It’s not her, it’s me.” He sighed and set his acorn bread back on the plate. “Rather, it’s Angela.”
“So Angela doesn’t like her.”
“Angela doesn’t really know her.” But that didn’t prevent Caleb from assuming the worst. He couldn’t count on anything when it came to his daughter these days.
“Then what’s the problem?” his mother asked.
“Lily is the problem. I told you about the mural. When I tried to talk to Angela about defacing private property, it turned into something else. She admitted she thought I took her mother from her. I explained what happened, but at the moment she’s obsessed with feeling abandoned. I have no idea where this is coming from. Teenage imagination, I guess. I just don’t see how I can bring another woman into the mix right now.”
“Angela might not like it at first, but she’ll come around. She has before. You dated several women while you were in school.”
“None were serious.”
“So this Grace Huber...” His mother cleared her throat. “You could be serious about her?”
Caleb started. Not a question he’d asked himself. Not one he wanted to explore too deeply right now. “Mom, you’re jumping the gun. I like her, but I haven’t even asked her out on a date.”
“Then maybe it’s time you did something about that.”
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