“We can both get a good night’s sleep and try to come up with a plan in the morning.”
“A plan for what?”
For the rest of your life Ron thought, exasperated. She didn’t appear to realize nothing would ever be the same after this. She would be a mother. That was a barrier that would separate her from her friends almost as effectively as moving to Connecticut.
“Everything is going to be different after this,” Ron said.
“I know that,” Cynthia said. “I’m not stupid.”
“I never said you were, but even intelligent people can have trouble thinking through unfamiliar situations. There are so many things you can’t know at your age—”
“If you tell me even once I don’t understand because I’m too young, I’ll walk out of this room.”
“You don’t understand,” Ron said, “not only because you’re too young but because this is beyond your experience. Hell, your mother and I didn’t understand, and we’d been planning for you for three years.”
“Age and experience have nothing to do with it,” Cynthia said as she got to her feet. “You’ve been a father for sixteen years, and you still don’t understand a thing about children.”
“I don’t understand why you’re more upset about your friends knowing you’re pregnant than you are about having a baby. I half expected you’d be nearly hysterical begging me to help you get an abortion.”
“I’d never do that! I want this baby. I need this baby.”
“Cynthia, you’ve just turned sixteen. You’re in the tenth grade. How can you need a baby?”
Tears sprang to her eyes. He reached out to her, but she backed away.
“You never let me have a cat. I begged you over and over again, but you wouldn’t let me.”
“I’m allergic to cats. You know that.”
She started toward the door. “I would have kept it in my room. You never go there. I would have taken care of it myself.”
She ran out leaving Ron wondering what had just happened. He turned to Kathryn who’d remained silent during the whole conversation, quietly turning pages in her magazine. Now she was looking at him with an expression of pity mingled with something that seemed to say You poor, dumb clod. You don’t have a clue, do you?
“What? You’re looking at me like I’ve dribbled ketchup down my shirt.”
“You don’t understand her, do you?”
“Are you saying you do?”
“Of course.”
That irritated him. “There’s no of course about it. Has she told you something I don’t know?”
“Not in so many words.”
Erin used to say that. She said men weren’t supposed to understand women. “How about putting it into words a poor, dumb male can understand.”
She stood and came toward him. She really was a lovely woman with a beautiful body. It was hard to concentrate on his daughter when he was having such a visceral reaction to this woman. Why wasn’t she married? What was wrong with the single men in Charlotte that she was left alone to oversee other men’s daughters?
“Cynthia wanted something to love,” Kathryn said, “something of her own that would love her back.”
“I offered to buy her a puppy, but she said she didn’t want a dog.”
“Did you get her one anyway?”
“No.”
Kathryn sighed, and he felt even more out of it. “Now what?” he asked, becoming extremely frustrated.
“She would have taken the puppy.”
“She said she didn’t want it. She said she wouldn’t even give it a name.”
“She would have taken it and been happy. Didn’t any one of those women you employ tell you that?”
“I was in Chicago. My secretary talked to Margaret.”
“Did it ever occur to you that since you’ve hired a staff to take care of your daughter, it might be a good idea to ask their opinion, maybe even let them handle the situation?”
“Margaret has authority to buy anything Cynthia needs.”
“Cynthia’s wanting a cat was a cry for help. She wanted more attention than she was getting.”
“It was a cat, for God’s sake, not a security blanket.”
“It might as well have been.”
“Boys ask for dogs all the time. They’d never compare it to having a baby,” he insisted.
“You don’t understand women.”
“I know that.”
“And you don’t understand your daughter.”
They were standing there, facing each other like two antagonists squaring off over some kind of prize.
“I know that, too.”
“I expect you tried,” Kathryn said.
“You’re too generous.”
“You were probably too involved in your work to take the time to learn to really listen.”
“I listen to her all the time.”
“Maybe, but you’re not hearing her. You’re insensitive to women’s issues. You need to spend more time—”
“I don’t have more time,” Ron broke in. “Do you have any idea how tough it is in the international market? Half the men out there would cut my throat if they could gain anything by it. And if I survive them, there’s a new, young wizard popping out of the woodwork every day brimming over with ideas of how to do what I do cheaper and faster.”
“I’m familiar with the business world. My father has spent his whole life in it, and he’s just like you.”
“So you’re telling me it’s hopeless?”
“Not if you really want to try. If you don’t—”
“Would I come halfway around the world if I didn’t?”
She seemed to accept that. She turned away and walked toward a bookcase built into the wall. “I can recommend several excellent books.”
“I don’t have time to read one book, not to mention several.”
She turned back to face him, her expression impatient. “Then how do you
