only used the mug for her morning coffee as a joke when Haley was staying with them. But then she began using it every morning.

Karen became Haley’s confidante and surrogate big sister. Haley started to shape up, too, joining a support group to help kick her drinking problem. She was growing into a lovely young woman. But some things she confided in Karen weren’t easy to hear: “My mother feels really threatened by you.”

“Well, let her know as far as you’re concerned she can’t be replaced. And if that doesn’t work, remind her that she’s a lot prettier than I am.”

Haley chuckled. “You’ll never let me forget about that, will you?”

“Never.”

Other things Haley revealed were damn difficult to take. “I was talking to Dad this morning,” she told her while trying on dresses in the changing area at a downtown boutique. Karen was helping her pick out a formal for the junior prom. “I asked him if he was ever going to marry you, and he got all pissy with me. He said I should mind my own business. So, I told him, if you end up being my stepmother that certainly would be my business, and I’m all for it. But he just got madder and madder.” Haley sighed, and nervously wrapped a strand of her hair around her finger. Karen had long ago noticed whenever Haley got perplexed she started playing with her hair like that. “God, he’s my father and I love him,” she went on. “But he’s such an asshole sometimes. Still, you want to marry him, don’t you Karen? I mean, you’ve discussed it with him, right?”

“You know,” Karen managed to say after a moment. “I don’t think you should wear a long formal to this thing. You’ll just look like everyone else. What about a pair of black slacks and a fancy top? I have this sleeveless copper-sequined top at home-and these very sexy black heels. We’ll fix your hair so it’s up.”

“Omigod, that sounds fantastic!” Haley gushed. “I’ll look like I’m going to the friggin’ Grammys!”

That was exactly how she looked-sleek, sexy, and sophisticated. Kurt couldn’t believe it was his little girl going out the door with that awestruck teenage boy in an ill-fitting tuxedo. “It just floors me how she’s grown up so fast,” Kurt remarked. “In a little over a year, she’ll be going off to college.”

“And I don’t even have a child of my own yet,” Karen heard herself say.

But, obviously, he pretended not to hear it.

Lately she’d been watching families and women with babies, and most of those women were younger than her. Not only was her biological clock ticking, there was a race against time with her dad, too. He’d been slipping again; the Alzheimer’s was advancing. Maybe it was selfish of her, but she wanted to have a child he could know and hold while he was still somewhat coherent.

“I want to get married, Kurt,” she told him. “Is that ever going to happen? Do you see that in our future at all?”

His back to her, he stood at the living room window, watching the limo back out of the driveway. Haley, her date, and a bunch of their friends had hired the car and a chauffeur for the night.

“No,” Kurt finally replied. “I don’t see it happening.”

Karen felt as if someone had just sucker punched her in the stomach. She’d expected him to waffle a bit, and leave her some room for hope. She sank down in a hardback chair, and gripped the armrests. “It’s not even a possibility?” she asked.

Still staring out the window, he let out a long sigh. He wouldn’t face her. Karen strained to catch his reflection in the darkened glass. “I’ve been married once and it didn’t work out,” he explained. “That was enough for me. I don’t want to get married again, Karen.”

“Well, this isn’t enough for me,” she murmured.

He turned and frowned at her. “Jesus, what’s gotten into you all of a sudden?”

It wasn’t so sudden. Karen knew she should have had this discussion with him three years ago. She was an idiot to wait this long. He’d never really misled her. She’d been lying to herself all this time.

Karen said nothing. She stood up, wandered into their bedroom, and started packing her overnight bag.

She slept at her father’s house that night. Within a month, she’d moved out of the Queen Anne house she shared with Kurt. It was almost insulting the way he didn’t put up much of a fight. But Haley was devastated. Karen assured her they’d still be friends. Hell, she needed friends. After the breakup, Karen had suffered several Kurt Casualties among her acquaintances-mostly other couples who suddenly seemed uncomfortable around her.

She stayed true to her word, and kept in touch with Haley. She felt good about herself with Haley. She’d helped a troubled little teen punkette develop into a sweet and lovely young woman. Karen wanted to rise above the manner of a vindictive ex. So she often had to remind the 17-year-old that talking about her father was verboten.

“You’ll have to hear this whether you like it or not,” Haley told her, five months after the breakup. They were jogging around the Volunteer Park reservoir together, where Karen had first met Kurt. “Dad’s getting married,” she said.

Karen stopped abruptly. “What?” she asked, even though she’d heard what Haley had said. A moment passed, and neither of them uttered a word. Karen got her breath back. Small wonder she hadn’t tripped and fallen on her face upon hearing the news. To her amazement, she was still standing.

Kurt’s fiancee was a 28-year-old Macy’s saleswoman named Jennifer. Big surprise, a younger woman.

Haley expressed utter disgust with her father, and claimed his fiancee was a major dipshit. Karen told her they weren’t going to talk about it. “When you’re near me, you’re in a no-Kurt-bashing zone. We don’t need to do that here. Our friendship is based on better things.”

It was tough sticking to that noble resolve after she’d received one particular e-mail from Kurt. They’d kept their distance since the breakup, and the only contact they’d had with each other had been infrequent e-mails. This one the son of a bitch copied to someone in his office-obviously to show he meant business:

Karen:

Since you’ve moved out, I’ve allowed Haley to continue seeing you, because I know your friendship means a lot to her. I think I’ve been very tolerant about this. Haley told me that she informed you of my marriage plans. So, I’m sure you will understand that I no longer feel your friendship with my daughter is appropriate. This is a somewhat confusing time for Haley, and she has had a few recent setbacks with the drinking. She has also had other problems at school that I won’t go into. Suffice it to say, I believe her association with you is creating some inner conflict. Please respect my wishes and give Haley a chance to adapt to the positive changes in her home life with me. Please stop seeing her.

Sincerely,

Kurt

Karen immediately fired off a two-page, single-spaced tirade that began: “Dear Asshole,” and went on to tell Kurt what a lousy father he was. She cited several examples.

But at the end of the day, Karen didn’t send the e-mail. She didn’t have it in her to fight with Kurt at that point. Things were getting worse with her dad. He’d become quite paranoid, and a few times the previous week, he’d been so disoriented he hadn’t even recognized her or Jessie. He’d slapped poor Rufus on the snout for barking on two occasions, and that was totally unlike him. Karen’s brother and sister kept calling long distance for updates on his condition. They wanted her to start looking for nursing homes, and she almost came to blows with them on the subject.

“I know you don’t want to give up on him,” her brother argued. “But you’re being selfish keeping him at home, Karen. He’s better off in a full-care facility. It sounds horrible, but for his sake, you’ll have to let go.”

Karen knew he was right, but she wasn’t ready to let go, yet.

And she wasn’t ready to abandon Haley either; though she wondered if maybe-just maybe-Kurt was right, too. Even with all her efforts not to badmouth Kurt, her friendship with Haley still threatened the father-daughter relationship. How couldn’t it? Perhaps she was being selfish there, too.

Haley phoned her on the sly a few times over the next two weeks. In each call, she cried hysterically and cursed her father. “How could he do this? He has no right! I can’t believe you’re going along with him on this.”

Karen tried to explain that until she was eighteen, her father, indeed, had every right to slap a moratorium on their friendship. But it was only temporary and, in the meantime, why didn’t she give this Jennifer a chance and cut her some slack? And what was this about her drinking again, and some trouble in school?

“C’mon, honey, you shape up, okay?” Karen told her, with a pang in her gut. “And you really need to stop

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