"You're damn right. I want to know what Karen told you today!"
"Ah." But at least he answered. She'd spoken, apparently with honesty, detail and candor, about everything that had transpired. She included what she'd done and the reaction it prompted from her father and my attempted intervention. She even included our lengthy love chair discussion of rules and consequences.
"So?" I said when he'd finished.
"Once again you handled the situation admirably." I was pleased as punch. He could see it on my face as he continued.
"Obviously, not so by the girl's father but you seem well on the road to remedying that as well, correctly I might add. While Karen is, as she puts it is, 'mad as hell with him', she exhibits some understanding of his motives. Once again, thanks to you." I responded with a humble thank-you.
He continued. "I'll pursue the subject in depth with the young lady later. I hardly had time to comment today because Karen's tale was so lengthy and detailed. She asked me outright if I agreed with her father's action. Frankly, I danced around my answer, not wanting to place him in a poor light." I kept my two cents in my pocket on that one.
God, I was ecstatic. "Is she pissed at me for making her skip two soccer games?" I blurted out.
"Quite the opposite. She showed more understanding than any other child I've ever counseled. She's truly remarkable. While she has an inordinate amount of interest in following precisely how you were raised, once she's secure in how that was carried out, she's perfectly agreeable to go along with it. It's her benchmark for living. Be careful how you describe it."
"I'm . . . thrilled," I answered.
"We've barely begun our little talks, Karen and me. There's the subject of suicide and rejection and her continuing reluctance to discuss her mother . . ." The doctor droned on but I hardly heard.
I skipped out of my session, happy as a worm-filled robin, home to Karen and Paul. When I arrived, I found them in close but friendly conversation. I took it as a good sign they were speaking.
The next couple of weeks slipped into October with blazing leaves and chilly evenings as we blessedly drifted back to our pleasant routine of household chaos. Timmy made friends with a fellow kindergartner named Harold and the two boys spent a lot of time at each other's houses. Paul remained home for two solid weeks, nearly a record. Karen signed up for dance lessons, squeezing another night out of our busy week. We gathered as a family and discussed rules of behavior and resulting consequences until most of us were sick of the topic. There seemed to be a feeling the whole business was more abstract than practical as no one deviated from perfect deportment.