Chapter 7 - DAD HAD TO ANSWER TOO
Dad’s family assessment lasted twelve weeks.
Nobody forced him to pretend he enjoyed it.
He hated every appointment.
He went anyway.
The evaluator asked about his divorce from Denise.
My mother’s death.
Erin.
Kendra.
His temper.
Work.
Parenting.
The bedroom.
Everything.
He came home after one session and sat at the kitchen table staring at nothing.
“You okay?” I asked.
“No.”
“Bad?”
“Useful.”
I smiled.
“That sounds terrible.”
“It is.”
He eventually completed a parenting course focused on high-conflict family situations.
He also began individual counseling.
Not because the court labeled him dangerous.
Because he decided he did not want fear turning into physical reaction again.
One evening he said:
“I spent years thinking being the calm parent meant never talking about difficult things.”
“Kendra’s mom?”
“Yes.”
“You were protecting her.”
“I thought I was.”
“Were you?”
Dad shook his head.
“No.”
He looked toward the stairs.
“I protected Denise from being the villain in Kendra’s childhood.”
“And?”
“I accidentally gave Kendra no explanation at all.”
Children fill empty spaces.
I had learned that.
Kendra filled hers with anger.
Lucy might someday fill hers too.
So Dad started keeping age-appropriate records.
Not court files for Lucy.
Stories.
Simple truths.
Mommy loves you.
Mommy made unsafe choices.
Adults are helping her learn safer ones.
You did nothing wrong.
You do not have to choose sides.
That last sentence mattered most.
Because every adult in the scheme had tried to turn Lucy into proof.
Proof Erin was loved.
Proof Dad was dangerous.
Proof Kendra was right.
Dad wanted her to grow up as a person.
Not evidence.
May you like
I wanted the same.
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