Lynn thought about that for a long minute. “Can you explain that more?”
“Sure.” He sat down next to her. “I think when you were fighting last night, it was because you were worried about her, right?”
“Yes,” Lynn sighed. “That’s always how it goes. I just want her to be happy, and have a good, comfortable life. And I can see her heading down the road to screwing up, but she never listens to me when I tell her to take a different route.”
“And so you fight.”
Lynn nodded.
“Well,” Ken said, “if she always takes the other route anyway, what good does it do to tell her where to go?”
Lynn opened her mouth—and closed it.
“Again,” Ken added, “seriously, tell me if I’m off-base.”
“No,” Lynn said. “No. You’re right. God. I just want her to know what the right thing to do is!”
“But it never helps,” Ken said.
“No. No, it never helps. She gets pissed off that I’m trying to tell her what to do. When she was younger, sometimes she’d do just the opposite of what I said on purpose, because she was so mad. And that always made me more mad, and I’d yell that I told her so, and we’d have a huge screaming fight. And I could never back down, because I was right, and she could never back down, because she’d already made her choice.”
Ken nodded. “I’m an only child, but my buddy Ty has this enormous family, and he always used to talk about the dumb things the younger ones did. And what he said was that you had to just act like you trusted them to make the right decisions, take responsibility and be mature, whether you thought they would or not. And most of the time, they’d step up. And even if they didn’t, you had to remember that they sure wouldn’t step up in response to someone acting like they couldn’t take care of themselves.”
Lynn thunked her forehead against Ken’s shoulder. “God. You’re right. You’re completely right. And I feel like I knew that, or I should’ve known. But in the moment, it always gets overwhelmed by how anxious I am about whatever she’s doing.”
“And that’s totally understandable,” he said. “I wouldn’t want my hypothetical little sister getting herself in trouble, that’s for sure. I don’t know what I’d do if I saw her dating someone like that asshole wolf, but I can promise you it wouldn’t be very constructive.”
“I don’t believe you,” Lynn sighed. “This is good advice. Thanks.” Could she behave like Stella was an adult who could make her own decisions?
The fact that she was even doubting herself about that…well, that made her wonder how many of their fights had been purely Lynn’s fault.
She’d always known that she overreacted to Stella’s screwups. But she’d never thought about the possibility that if Lynn had supported her decisions, given her trust and love instead of anger and judgment, Stella might have stopped screwing up altogether. Or at least quit doubling down on bad decisions.
“Okay,” she said finally. “All right. I’m going to make this work.” She stood up. “Let’s go get breakfast.”
Ken grinned. “Good, I’ve been starving since I woke up.”
Lynn shook her head and led the way out of her room.
When they got downstairs, it turned out that Stella wasn’t up yet, which was a bit anticlimactic. But Eva was sitting at the table, eating Cheerios and scrolling through her phone, hunched in the same Doctor Who hoodie she’d been wearing last night.
“Good morning,” Lynn said as they came into the room, and Eva jumped, her spoon clattering against the bowl.
“Oh—crap, I didn’t see you there. Good morning, Aunt Lynn.” Her eyes tracked back behind Lynn’s shoulder. “Ken.”
“Morning, Eva,” Ken said cheerfully. “You looking for anything more substantial than Cheerios? I’m not that much of a cook, but I can make pancakes and eggs.”
“I’m fine, thanks,” Eva said quietly.
Ken went to the fridge anyway, pulling out eggs and milk, and said, “No problem. I’ll just get something going for the rest of us, then. Lynn, have a seat.”
Normally, Lynn would’ve offered to help, but Eva was obviously feeling nervous, so she just said, “Thanks,” and sat down next to her niece.
Eva gave her a small smile. “Hi.”
“Hi,” Lynn said. “How are you doing?”
A little shrug. “Okay.”