The Secret of You and Me - Melissa Lenhardt Page 0,32
the most part, or I told myself it did. But, I walked around in a world I didn’t fit into, that wasn’t made for me, that didn’t reflect me at all. When I drank, the world shifted, blurred, softened, so I almost felt like I belonged.
Almost.
* * *
“You’re setting a bad example for Logan.”
Charlie leaned against the bathroom doorway, dressed in his grubby lawn mowing shorts.
I turned the water off and stepped out of the shower. Charlie handed me a towel. “Going to church every week isn’t a bad example.”
“When you used to go more, it is. When you’ve stopped being involved in the church, it is.”
“Charlie, I’m not having this conversation again.”
“Logan has to have a good faith foundation before she goes off to college. Who knows what kind of crazy ideas she’ll pick up in Austin.”
“Logan will be all right.”
“She’s already pushing back, and you know it. I’m starting to think your mother has a point.”
I stopped drying myself. “About what?”
“We should take her to look at Baylor. Abilene Christian. Oral Roberts.”
“Absolutely not.” I rubbed my body with increased vigor.
“Why?”
“Because she’s wanted to go to UT her entire life.” I brushed by Charlie and into the bedroom to dress. “You went there and turned out okay.”
“But, she’s a girl.”
“What does that mean?”
“She’s more susceptible to being swayed by other people’s opinions.”
The comment hit a little too close to home. I’d made sure Logan had learned to think for herself, to be independent, strong-willed and strong-minded. When she hit the teen years I regretted it, but I didn’t want my daughter to be as easily persuaded as I had been all those years ago.
“Have you met our daughter?”
“You remember Laurie Craven?”
“Oh my God.”
Laurie Craven was a year older than us and had made quite a stir during her first visit home from her freshman year at UT. She’d walked down the bleachers during a Friday night football game, silencing the crowd as she passed. She was dressed in all black with half of her head shaved and the remaining hair apparently dyed to match her outfit. Laurie plopped herself down in the middle of the student section, endured the jeers with a superior expression, knowing curiosity would eventually take over. It had. She was all anyone could talk about for a week after. All these years later, Laurie Craven was brought up as a warning against going away from home and losing all of your values. Or Lynchfield’s values.
“She read The Handmaid’s Tale in freshman sociology and turned into a lesbian.”
“From reading a book? I don’t think it works like that.”
“How would you know?”
I pulled a T-shirt over my head. “So, if I’m following your logic here, all that stands between Logan reading a classic dystopian novel and turning into a lesbian as a result is me going to church three times a week.”
Charlie knew how ridiculous it sounded, so he changed tacks. “It’s important for the campaign, too. Our faith has to be unassailable.”
“Is this what our life is going to be now? Gauging everything we do on how it’s going to affect your political career?”
Charlie waited for a beat and said, “Yes.”
“Good to know,” I replied, and walked out of the bedroom.
nine
sophie
I waited until Charlie started the lawn mower before going to Logan’s room. I leaned my head against the closed door, took a few deep, calming breaths and said a short prayer, asking God to give me the right words to say along with a please, God, don’t let her hate me, before knocking on her bedroom door. When she didn’t answer, I knocked again, louder this time. I never entered Logan’s room unannounced. I’m not sure she appreciated the gesture, the independence and privacy my small act gave her, but I’d worked hard to be nothing like my mother. I’d always thought allowing Logan to be her own person, with her own secrets, thoughts and opinions, would make our relationship stronger, that she would see it as a sign of respect for her as an individual. Instead, she favored her father, who was strict and unbending, dismissive of opinions that differed from his own. By the time I realized she had read my hands-off approach as disinterest, the damage was done. Turned out the old canard about children wanting discipline wasn’t total bullshit after all.
“Logan!” I knocked louder, shaking the doorknob.
“What?”
“Can I come in?”
She opened the door with a jerk. “You don’t have to yell.”
I touched the noise-canceling headphones hanging around her neck. She looked