"Do you have any soda?" she asked hopefully.
"I think I've got water and maybe some spoiled cream in this little fridge over here. But if you really want a soda, I can ask Norma to go get a couple for us," I offered.
"Nah, it's okay," she said as she dropped down into the chair closest to my desk and looked around. "This office is big, but it's really ugly."
"Yeah, it used to be my Pop's. He didn't have very good taste, apparently," I said shrugging. I watched her closely, trying to figure out how to proceed. "I've been trying to figure out what to do with it, but I didn't have any good ideas. What do you think?"
"Are you really asking me what I think, or are you doing that grown-up thing where you ask me just to have something to talk about?" she asked bluntly.
"No, actually, I really want to know your opinion," I said as I stood up and walked around the desk. I sat down across from her in the other chair and rested my elbows on my knees as I spoke. "I always have good ideas when it comes to stuff for other people but, when I have to decide for me, I never quite know what's right, you know?"
"Seems like a personal problem to me," she said picking at the hem of her shirt. I could tell she had something she wanted to say and that she was weighing the consequences of saying it by testing me.
"It probably is," I agreed. I decided that the path of least aggression was the best one to traverse with this child. So I waited.
It was an uncomfortable silence punctuated by Riley's fidgeting. I stayed as still as a statue and silently thanked my brother for teaching me the game despite the fact that I'd hated him intensely when he'd enforced the rules and then called me out when I broke them.
As I waited, my mind wandered. I wondered what was happening with Leah and why she wouldn't talk to me about it. Then my brain moved on to Sloan as I wondered what she had up her sleeve and tried to decide
if my choice to cut off the sexual part of our relationship was a smart thing or if she'd . . .
"Do you miss your dad?" Riley asked cutting into my thoughts.
"That's an interesting question," I said as I rubbed a hand across my eyes and sat back in my chair. "Why do you ask?"
"I'm just curious," she shrugged before adding, "I don't know anyone who’s lost their parent, except you."
"Yeah, I guess you and I are kind of in that same boat, aren't we?" I nodded, wondering how I was supposed to handle this. I knew nothing about what had happened to her mother, and I didn't want to say the wrong thing and open up a can of worms.
"Do you miss him?" she repeated as she stared at me, waiting.
"Well, that's a difficult question to answer," I said as I thought about how to respond.
"You don't, do you?" she said. It wasn't an accusation, just an acknowledgement of the facts.
"No, actually, I don't," I admitted for the first time.
"Was he mean to you? Is that why you don't miss him?" she asked before looking away.
"Let's just say that my father was a difficult man," I said, carefully sidestepping the things I'd prefer not to discuss with a twelve-year-old.
"My mom was difficult, too," she said looking at me straight in the eye. "I loved her, but she was very difficult. Sometimes it was hard to love her."
"Yeah, I know the feeling," I nodded, thinking that as long as Riley was leading the discussion, I was okay admitting things that matched her observations.
"Sometimes I miss her, but most of the time I'm really glad that Leah is in charge of me—and not my mom," she said. "I know that's a bad thing to say because you're supposed to love your parents, but my mom wasn't as good at taking care of me as Leah is."
"Yeah, that's a hard one," I nodded. "My Pop wasn't around a lot, but when he was, he could be really tough. So, mostly I'm glad that it was my mother who raised us."
"Is your mom nice?" she asked.
"She is," I said with a smile.
"That's good," Riley murmured as she went back to playing with the hem of her shirt. I could tell she was thinking hard about something, but again, I didn't want to interfere with her thoughts or prompt her to say something she wasn't ready to say. I had no idea how to talk to kids, so I stayed silent and slipped back into my own thoughts, waiting for Riley to tell me what was on her mind.
I wondered if it had something to do with what was going on with Leah. I opened my mouth to ask, but then closed it before the words came out. It was none of my business and, if Leah wanted me to know what was going on with her, she'd tell me herself.
"We don't have a place to live anymore," Riley blurted out. "Gram burned us out of our house yesterday because she was smoking, and when she drinks she forgets about her lit cigarettes."