Point of Retreat

than pathetic.”
     
    I look back at Mark and smile. “It was nice meeting you, Mark.” I stand up and swing the chair back around until it’s back in its place under the table, then I place my hands on the table in front of him. “I’ll be keeping in touch.”
     
    I look all three of them in the eyes as I back away from their table, then turn back to Kiersten and Kel. “Let’s go. Caulder’s waiting on us.”
     
    When the three of us get back to the gymnasium, we go to Caulder’s table and take a seat. We aren’t seated for two minutes when Mrs. Brill marches up with a scowl on her face. Right before she opens her mouth to say something, I stand up and reach my hand out to her. “Mrs. Brill,” I say with a smile. “It’s so good of you for letting Kiersten and the boys eat with me today. It really means a lot that you recognize the fact that there are families in this world with non-traditional situations. I love these kids like they’re my own. The fact that you respect our relationship even though I’m not a typical father really says a lot about your character. So I just wanted to say thank you.”
     
    Mrs. Brill lets go of my hand and steps back. She eyes Kiersten and Kel, then looks back at me. “You’re welcome,” she says. “Hope you all enjoy the luncheon.” She turns and walks away without another word.
     
    “Well,” Kel says. “That was definitely my sweet .”
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Thursday, February 16 th , 2012
     
     
    One more day…

 
     
     
     
    Chapter Seventeen
     
     
     
     
     
    “So what’s the damage?” Lake asks Dr. Bradshaw.
     
    “To what? You?” He laughs as he slowly unwraps the bandage from around her head.
     
    “To my hair,” she says. “How much did you chop off?”
     
    “Well,” he says. “We did have to cut through your skull, you know. We tried to save as much hair as we could, but we were faced with a pretty tough decision…it was either your hair or your life.”
     
    She laughs. “Well I guess I’ll forgive you, then.”
     
    ***
     
    As soon as we get home from the doctor, she heads straight for the shower to wash her hair. She’s been dying to wash her hair. I’m pretty comfortable with leaving her home now, so I go pick up the boys. I forgot they were staying an hour after school, so I text Lake to let her know I’ll be late. The school talent show is tomorrow night and the students who signed up to perform get to stay and practice. Kiersten and Caulder both signed up, but neither of them are giving us hints as to what they’re doing. I’ve given Kiersten copies of all my poems. She says she needed them for research. I didn’t argue. There’s just something about Kiersten you don’t argue with.
     
    When the boys and I finally get home, Lake is still in the bathroom. I know she’s tired of me babying her, but I check on her anyway. The fact that she’s been in there so long worries me. When I knock on the door, she tells me to go away. She doesn’t sound happy, which just means I’m not going away.
     
    “Lake open the door,” I say. I jiggle the door knob but it’s locked.
     
    “Will, I just need a minute,” she sniffs.
     
    She’s crying.
     
    “Lake. Open the door!” I’m really worried now. I know how stubborn she is and if she hurt herself she’s probably trying to hide it. I beat on the door and shake the door knob again.
     
    It’s quiet. She doesn’t respond. “Lake!” I yell.
     
    The door knob turns and the door slowly opens. She’s staring down at the floor, crying. “I’m okay,” she says. She wipes at her eyes with a wad of toilet paper. “You really need to quit freaking out, Will.”
     
    I step into the bathroom and hug her. “Why are you crying?”
     
    She pulls away from me and shakes her head, then sits down on the seat in front of the bathroom mirror. “It’s stupid,” she says.
     
    “Are you in pain? Does your head hurt?”
     
    She shakes her head and wipes at her eyes again. She brings her arm up and pulls the rubber band out of her hair and it falls down over her shoulder. “It’s my hair.”
     
    Her hair. She’s crying about her damn hair! I breathe a sigh of relief. “It’ll grow back, Lake. It’s okay.” I walk around behind her and pull her hair away from her shoulders to her back. She’s got an area on the back of her head that’s been shaved. It can’t be covered up, because it’s smack dab in the middle of her hair. I run my