Finding Shelter
Chapter 5

Copyright© 2010 by Jay Cantrell

It was already dark when we got back to my house – not a surprise since it seemed to get dark at 3 p.m. I should mention that I hate winter, too.

Kasey was sitting in my living room with a huge smile on her face.

It was surprising on a number of levels.

First, I didn't expect her back for a few more days. Secondly, she rarely came to my house when I wasn't home. Third, it was rare to see her smile.

"I'm supposed to scope out what's going on here," she said conspiratorially. "Sure, Mom gave me a list of excuses I could use for being back in town – setting things up for Christmas, last-minute shopping – but I know the real reason. Hi, I'm Kasey, by the way."

Carrie smiled warmly at my daughter.

"I've heard a lot about you," she said. "Your father talks about you all the time."

Kasey shifted her gaze toward me.

"What?" I asked.

"Sharing family details all ready," she said. "Way to go, Dad!"

I rolled my eyes.

"We have spent seven hours in a car over the past two days," I said. "The conversation had to turn to you eventually. My job only took up 10 minutes. What was I supposed to talk about after that?"

Not surprisingly, Kasey ignored me.

"Did you get things straightened up down there?" she asked Carrie. Carrie shrugged.

"Somewhat," she said. "My life is still in tatters at this point but at least now I have the shreds to start putting them together."

Kasey nodded her understanding. I wondered how she could possibly understand anything. To this point in her life, I thought, her biggest disappointment was failing to make the varsity volleyball team as a sophomore.

"Uh, what are the sleeping arrangements?" I asked. "Carrie has been staying in your room. Are you here or at your mom's?"

"Here," Kasey said with a hint of disgust. "Like Mom would allow me to stay by myself. I mean, c'mon, I'm only 17. It's not like I'm a senior in high school or anything."

Carrie chuckled but I sighed. It was another sore spot between mother and daughter. It was also something I had no intention of intervening in – on either's behalf.

"OK, Carrie, trot your stuff to room across the hall," I said.

Carrie and Kasey just stared at me.

"What?" I asked. "You want the football bed? That's fine. Or are you sleeping in Mark's bed tonight, Kase?"

Recognition dawned on two faces about the same time as it settled into my brain.

"I'll be on the couch out here," I said quickly.

I had barely gotten myself comfortable on the couch when Kasey rejoined me in the living room.

"Scootch," she said as she tried to wiggle her way in front of me.

I complied – as I had hundreds of times before. It had been several years since Kasey and I had cuddled on the couch. When she was younger it was something she did every chance she got. But as she grew older and into puberty, the snuggle time had decreased. By the time of the divorce, it had ended completely.

I'll admit that I had missed it.

"How are you doing, Daddy?" she asked softly.

"I'm good," I said I lightly stroked her hair as I did when she was 10. "How are you?"

"OK," she answered. "This is nice."

I agreed but I still didn't understand why she was here. Not that I minded.

"She seems nice," Kasey said after a few minutes.

"She is," I answered.

"Do you like her?" she asked.

"Of course, otherwise I wouldn't be helping her," I answered.

"No, I mean like her, like her," she said.

"Is this part of your fishing expedition?" I wondered.

"No, not really," she replied. "I'm not going to tell Mom anything anyway. This is about a daughter worried that her Daddy has been alone too long and he's jumping into something."

Kasey rolled over to face me before continuing.

"I've never understood why you didn't remarry, Daddy," she said. "Do you know that every fun memory I have from my life involves you? Don't you know how many women would love to find a man like you?"

I felt warring emotions.

"Sweetie, your memories are probably caused by the fact that I wasn't there very much," I answered sadly. "I tried to make up for my lack of participation by doing all the fun stuff with you. Your Mom got stuck with all the grunt work. She got stuck teaching you to be the adult you are now. I got the fun parts; she got the work."

"Not all my memories are fun," she said. "I remember a lot of times when you were harder on me that Mom was. I remember all the times when you were the one who sat me down to talk to me about something. I remember that you were the one to talk to me about boys and the dangers of drugs. Mom was harder on me but most of her rules were stupid and her punishments didn't make sense. They still don't. With you, if I'm 10 minutes late for curfew I lose my car privileges for a week. With her, if I'm 10 minutes late I can't leave the house for a week."

I leaned forward and kissed my little girl on the forehead. Another issue that Kelly and I had encountered was a difference in our parenting styles – not that I had much of a style before the divorce.

"Just because they're different punishments doesn't make one stupid," I replied. "Your Mom is doing the best she can for you."

"That's another thing," Kasey said quickly. "You never say anything bad about her. She talks about you like you're a dog sometimes. She doesn't do it in front of me but I can hear her talking to her friends. I can hear her when she doesn't think anyone is around."

I smiled slightly.

"And you think that I don't talk about her that way?" I asked. "It's just that you're with her more than you are with me. It's an 11 in 14 chance that if one of us says something nasty about the other it will be her you hear."

Kasey met my smile.

"So, you're not jumping into something because you're lonely?" she asked to get back on topic.

"Maybe," I replied truthfully. "I really enjoyed the last two days. It was different – different than what your Mom and I had. Carrie and I talked a lot and got to know each other a little. We joked and picked on the other. I honestly didn't realize that I was lonely until the last couple of days. Now I'm starting to think I was lonely even when I was married."

I saw a tear in the corner of Kasey's eye.

"Do you regret marrying Mom?" she asked.

"It depends on how you mean that," I said. "If you mean do I regret having you in my life then no. I don't regret that for a moment and I never have. If you mean do I think it might have been better – for both of us – if we'd had decided to be separate parents from the beginning then yes. I think I would have been forced to be more a part of your life if I hadn't had your mother to rely on. Like now, I know that every other weekend you'll be here. I look forward to it and I make sure that my schedule doesn't interfere. I think your mother would be a much happier person if we hadn't gotten married. She would have been able to build a life with someone she loved instead of with me."

It was an unusually serious conversation with my daughter. We had had them before but for some reason I felt like her peer rather than her father. I guess she was growing up – or I was regressing (something we can't disregard).

"And so could you," Kasey said. "You know for the last five years your whole life has been about us. The only days you're off, you're with us. The only time you're away is when you're at work or we're all on vacation. I heard you laughing when you came up the walk, Daddy. It was a nice sound."

 
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