"That's fair. Go on now. I want to talk to Ali."
After sending her sister a smug look, Kayla sailed out.
"She wouldn't leave when I told her to," Ali began. "She's always running in here whenever she wants."
"And you're older," Laura said quietly, trying to understand. "There are privileges that go along with that, Ali, but there are also responsibilities. I don't expect the two of you never to fight. Josh and I fought, Margo and Kate and I fought. But you hurt her."
"I just wanted her to go away. I wanted to be alone. I don't care about her stupid picture of a stupid dragon."
There's more going on here, Laura thought, studying her daughter's miserable face, than sibling sniping. She sat on the edge of the bed so that her eyes were level with Ali's. "Tell me what's wrong, honey."
"You always take her side."
Laura bit back a sigh. "That's not true." Determined, she took Ali's hand, pulled her closer. "And that's not what's bothering you."
There was a war going on inside this little girl, Laura realized as she watched Ali's eyes swim. With all her heart, Laura wanted to find the right way to make peace.
"It doesn't matter. It won't make any difference." Tears came closer to the surface. "You won't do anything about it."
It hurt, but then, this recent distrust from Ali always hurt. "Why don't you tell me, then we'll see. I can't do anything about it if I don't know what it is."
"They're going to have a father-daughter dinner at school." The words burst out, full of anger and pain. "They're all going to bring their dads."
"Oh." No peace here, Laura admitted and touched her daughter's cheek. "I'm sorry, Ali. That's hard. Uncle Josh will go with you."
"It's not the same."
"No, it's not the same."
"I want it to be the same," Ali said in a furious whisper. "Why can't you make it be the same?"
"I can't." There was relief when Ali went unresisting into her arms. And there was grief.
"Why don't you make him come back? Why don't you do something to make him come back?"
Now there was guilt to layer on top of grief. "There's nothing I can do."
"You don't want him to come back." With her eyes bright and hot, Ali jerked back. "You told him to go away, and you don't want him to come back."
This was a thin and shaky line to travel. "Your father and I are divorced, Ali. That's not going to change. The fact that we can't, and don't want to, live together anymore doesn't have anything to do with you and Kayla."
"Then why doesn't he ever come?" Tears poured out again, but they were hot now, and angry. "Other kids have parents that don't live together, but their dads come and they go places together."
The line got shakier. "Your father's very busy, and he's living in Palm Springs now." Lies, Laura thought. Pitiful lies. "I'm sure once he's more settled, he'll spend more time with you." When did he ever?
"He doesn't come because he doesn't want to see you." Ali turned away. "It's because of you."
Laura closed her eyes. What good would it be to deny it, to defend herself and leave her child vulnerable? "If it is, I'll do what I can to make it easier for him, and for you." On legs that weren't quite steady, Laura rose. "There are things I can't change, I can't fix. And I can't stop you from blaming me for it."
Fighting to control both grief and temper, Laura took a slow breath. "I don't want you to be unhappy, Ali. I love you. I love you and Kayla more than anything in the world."
Ali's shoulders slumped. "Will you ask him if he could come to the dinner? It's next month, on a Saturday."
"Yes, I'll ask."
Shame eked through the anger and misery. She didn't have to look at her mother's face to know she would see hurt. "I'm sorry, Mama."
"So am I."