Just yesterday, Pamela made peace with her stepfather.
She drove out of town to meet him at work, and the two of them got takeout and returned to his office to talk. I was there, watching and listening carefully, but Pamela hardly needed me. I have rarely been so proud of her.
“All I’m saying,” she told William, holding his gaze even as her eyes filled with tears, “is that I feel that you all have kept me at arm’s length ever since I left for college. Like you thought your job was done, but it wasn’t. It isn’t. I’m always going to need you guys.” She swallowed and took a breath. “And I reacted badly to that feeling before, and I’m sorry. I am. I’m sorry I said what I did, in the way that I said it. It doesn’t change the fact that I need my family, and neither does whatever we might disagree on.” She wiped her eyes. “That’s all,” she said, as if all that were insignificant.
Sitting at his desk, looking down at his hands, William said in a low voice, “You’re right.”
The words didn’t sink in for her for a second. “What?” she asked.
William coughed and looked at the ceiling. “Oh, Pam.” He got up and came around the desk, taking her hands, still unable to meet her eyes. “You’re right. You left home, and instead of accepting the way that changed our family, we—we filled the hole you left. We did shut you out. And then we used that stupid argument as an excuse to blame you.” He squeezed her hands and forced himself to lift his head. “I’m sorry, too, sweetie. I’m so sorry.”
She threw herself into his arms and burst into tears.
I nearly wept with her. It was so good to see some of the pain, the anger, and the shame draining away. I have no words for the relief of it.
When Pamela left—how strange to think that it was only an hour that she was there!—William walked her to her car and gave her one last hug. “I’ll talk to your mom,” he promised her. “It won’t be easy, but I’ll do what I can.”
Pamela kissed his cheek. “Thanks, Daddy,” she said, her voice choked again.
He tugged her ear, a gesture that brought back memories of her childhood to both of them. Happy memories, now untainted by regrets. “I got this, kiddo.”
He meant it, too. He means to take the burden from her shoulders, to fight her corner,[1] as it were. I will do what I can to encourage him in the days ahead.
Meanwhile, Pamela now has a day written in her calendar on which she will meet with her brothers for the first time in months. Every time she sees it, it brings warmth to her heart.
[1] This strange metaphor comes from boxing, which is an unpleasant and violent sport that Brooke takes a surprising interest in. I like the metaphorical language much better than the reality.