Page 15 of Of Literature and Lattes
“It’s just not myfavorite. You didn’t ask if I liked it.”
He felt his body flood with delight at her logical innocence. “Good point. I’ll remember that next time.” As he cut the broccoli, he brought up Krista again, wondering if that was why his daughter was quiet. Perhaps their quarreling had upset her, and if he said Krista’s name and made it sound like all was right between them, Becca might feel safe. “You’re going to love the crispy bits. Does Mommy ever cook it like this?”
Nothing.
Next he suggested they readAlexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day, thinking she could relate. Still nothing.
But he’d probably gone about that wrong too. Rather than simply read to her and let her enjoy the story, he’d peppered her with challenges. By the end of the story even he knew he’d crossed a line.
Why don’t you read this page?
What does Alexander say here?
Can you believe he said that?Read this section.
He had closed the book feeling as shredded as his daughter. Looking at her tight face and watery eyes, he couldn’t tell who was worse off. Her for knowing she couldn’t do what was expected, or him for being the misguided dad, sure if he pushed just the right amount and in just the right ways, she’d feel confident and secure—and read like a champ. Whatever that even looked like.
He’d almost given up and suggested bedtime, just to end the whole night, when she noticed a large red box sitting on his living room coffee table.
“That? Go look.” He lifted her off his lap. “There’s a bookshop a few doors down from the coffee shop, and one of the women brought me that last week. She said you might like those.”
Becca crossed the room and dropped to the floor at the table, moving with a weary wariness. Then inside the box, his daughter discovered eighty-six rubbery Smurfs and two odd mushroom-looking houses, and her first smile broke free.
Within minutes, they set out the houses and discovered there weren’t nearly enough for all the Smurfs. They needed a whole village.
“What about Tupperware or books?” Jeremy suggested. “We have lots of books. Go grab some from your room too and we’ll build a book village.”
Becca ran down the short hallway, and Jeremy noted that her flip-flops slapped the hardwood floor in tiny raps rather than the heavy thwapping sound they’d made when she shuffled in his door at the beginning of the evening. His heart lifted in victory.
And the evening only got better from there.
He smiled as he ground the beans for his coffee, remembering how poor Kurt Vonnegut’sSlaughterhouse-Fivealmost became a residence for Smurfs. As Becca searched her room for books, he scoured his own shelves, bypassing his Stephen Kings and true crime in favor of Tom Clancy and Robert Ludlum.The Hunt for Red October,Rainbow Six, andThe Road to Omahawere titles more appropriate-sounding for a seven-year-old building houses. And they were all hardbacks—much better construction material.
“I’ve got some, Daddy,” Becca called from behind a stack of books. Jeremy could only see her eyes above the pile.
“You found all your old board books.” He straightenedGood Night, Gorilla;BarnyardDance!;The Very Hungry Caterpillar; andGreen Eggs and Ham.
“They were in the cabinet, but I don’t read them anymore.”
“You’re a little beyond them, aren’t you?” He proppedDear Zooopen and upright to form two walls for a house.
The look of panic that washed over her expression caught his attention, and his heart sank again. “Those are some of my favorites, though. Do you want to read or build houses?”
“Houses.”
Yet once the village of book houses covered his living room floor, Becca’s questioning eyes returned to the books.
“Do you want to read any of those?”
“I can’t.” She pursed her lips and her eyes held a sheen of tears that cracked Jeremy’s heart. “There’s something wrong with me.”
“No... Ladybug. Who said that?”
Becca shook her head.
Knowing the answer could be as obvious as classmates’ taunts on the playground or as subtle as unspoken gestures—even ones given unwittingly by him—he lifted Becca into his lap and tucked them both into a corner of the couch. “I’ll start.”
He openedGreen Eggs and Hamfirst andGuess How Much I Love Yousecond.
