Page 52 of The Broken Heart Playlist
His words swell inside my chest, making me feel a little less alone.
“Can I speak to her?” Gideon asks.
His question throws me. “Now?”
“Why not?”
I hesitate. “My house is a mess.”
What I really mean is,my life is a mess. And I can’t help the illogical feeling that if he crosses the threshold into our home, it’ll be akin to a Neil Armstrong moment. One small step for Gideon Walker, one giant leap for Kate Miller.
Maybe I’m making too big a deal of it. I probably am. It appears to be a default setting in my brain.
Lisset comes first, I remind myself. Always.
I step aside. “Sure. Come in.” I move toward the stairs. “I’ll get Lisset. Uh, you can wait in the living room, if you want.”
“Okay,” he says easily.
When I open Lisset’s bedroom door, the only traces that remain of her earlier distress are her puffy, red-rimmed eyes. I gather her into my arms. “You okay, Lis?”
“Yeah,” she says dispiritedly.
“Let’s eat dinner.”
She follows me down the stairs but stops short when she sees Gideon in the living room.
“It’s okay,” I reassure her, ignoring her I’ve-been-ambushed expression. “You’re not in trouble. We just want to talk to you.”
“Hi, Lissy,” Gideon greets her as she slouches onto the couch opposite him. He engages her in a few minutes of frivolous small talk before asking her directly why she didn’t want to attend the Reading Dog Program today at school.
“I don’t like it,” she answers, crossing her arms and looking at her knees.
I make to speak, but Gideon gives a small shake of his head. I squash my knee-jerk resentment and rearrange myself on thecouch, tucking my legs underneath me. She’s my daughter, but this is his area of expertise. I keep quiet and decide to let him handle it.
“That’s all right,” Gideon tells her. “You don’t have to like everything. What’s important is that you gave it a go.”
I feel myself frowning. This is his way of handling it?
Lisset is fiddling with the zipper on her hoodie, still refusing to make eye contact with either of us.
“Just out of curiosity,” Gideon asks casually, “what is it about the program that you don’t like?”
“I just don’t like it.”
“Is it Uno?” he asks. “Do you not like him?”
“I LOVE Uno!” she emphasizes fervently.
“What about me?” he asks in a playful, growly voice. “Am I scary?”
A tiny smile tugs at the corners of her lips. “No, I like you,” she confesses shyly.
“What about the books? How do you feel about them?”
“I don’t want to read them,” Lisset maintains.
“What if we change the books?”
