Chapter 10 - I Had To Tell Nora I Failed Her
Children know when adults dodge responsibility.
So I didn’t.
We sat together at my sister’s house.
Nora was eating strawberries.
I said:
“I need to apologize.”
She immediately looked worried.
“For what?”
“For not listening sooner.”
She stared at the plate.
“I told you sometimes.”
“I know.”
“You said Serena was trying to help.”
“I know.”
“You said I had to stop being dramatic.”
That one hurt.
“Yes.”
She looked up.
“Did you believe her more than me?”
I could have softened it.
I didn’t.
“Sometimes.”
Her eyes filled.
“Why?”
“Because she was an adult and sounded sure of herself. And because I didn’t check carefully enough.”
“That’s dumb.”
“Yes.”
She looked surprised.
“You agree?”
“Completely.”
That got the smallest smile.
Then I said:
“What Serena did was wrong. What I did by not listening was wrong too.”
“Are you gonna make me forgive her?”
“No.”
“Ever?”
“No.”
“Even if she says sorry?”
“No.”
Nora nodded.
Then returned to her strawberries.
Apologies with children are strange.
Adults expect ceremony.
Children often want corrected behavior.
May you like
That came next.
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