Her mother smiled. “I remember a time when I couldn’t get you out of bed before ten. Now, here it is six-thirty and you’re dressed for work and perky. How things have changed.”
“Age and circumstances have changed.” The last was said with a sad glance at her father.
Her mother gestured to the hallway and they both walked outside, closing the door behind them. Miranda couldn’t remember a time when her mother had not been dressed ready for a showcase, but today she was dressed for comfort and a day spent at her husband’s bedside. Despite wearing a casual and comfortable pantsuit, she was fully made up with lipstick and extra cover-up that didn’t quite hide the dark circles under her blue eyes. Her hair was loose, lightly brushing her shoulders, not the usual twist, and she wore almost no jewelry except her wedding and engagement rings. As former beauty queen, her mother stressed the importance of image and looking a certain way all the time. Her father certainly expected both Miranda and her mother to keep up his standards of image, no matter what, and even in the hospital, Gwen kept up appearances. Maybe it was a throwback to the fifties and the Donna Reed era, but her parents were happy that way and Miranda was expected to maintain the image as well.
Remembering her image in the mirror that morning and the small amount of makeup she wore, Miranda suspected she wasn’t quite handling the situation as well.
“Is your father awake? Have you spoken with him this morning?”
“No, he was sleeping and I didn’t want to disturb him.”
“Good.” Her mother nodded, relief and satisfaction on her face. Then she frowned, glancing at the door. She drew Miranda a few steps further down the hall. “Miranda, I know your father appreciates you being here, as do I. But it might be best if you not try to stop by every day.”
Miranda stared at her mother; sure that exhaustion had made her not understand the words. “What?”
Gwen studied her with shrewd eyes. “I’ve heard the rumors, not to mention what you’ve said, and haven’t said, to your father. Things are not good with the team right now, am I right?”
Miranda dropped her chin to her chest, then nodded. “We’re in a tough spot. But I have a plan.”
Her mother laid a hand on Miranda’s arm. “I know you do, sweetie, but he can’t help but order you around and try to get in the middle of things.” She paused, then spoke, the words coming out in a rush. “Your father needs his rest, without stress.”
Miranda frowned. “Of course he does. That’s why I’m handling things with the team.”
Her mother chewed her lower lip. “I don’t think you understand. I appreciate you coming here every day, giving me a break, and updating your father. But the doctor and I spoke last night. Your father needs a completely stress-free environment for his recovery. He won’t ever let go on his own. We need to be strong and force it. That means no updates about the team; no asking for his advice; and no involvement on his part. It’s time for you to take on the mantle of the team and do it yourself.”
“I’m doing it, Mom. And you know Dad will never step aside. Not now.”
“Exactly. So we’re going to have to make him.”
Miranda narrowed her eyes. “What are you saying? You don’t want me to see my own father?”
“Well, when you put it that way, it sounds bad. But, honestly, if he sees you, he can’t help but ask lots of questions and get worked up, which isn’t good for his heart. And I know how busy you must be, with the season only a few weeks away. You can’t keep being torn in two. You can’t do what you need to, if you’re constantly running here asking for advice and updating your father. You need to take charge of the team and be the president. And you need to let him heal.”
“Dad won’t like that. He’ll call me and expect to see me daily.”
Gwen straightened and smiled. “You let me handle him. If I have to disconnect the phones, I will.”
Miranda glanced at the closed door, torn between her father, whom she desperately wanted to please, and her own relief at being able to do what was needed without her father’s interference. “He doesn’t agree with what needs to be done.”
“And that’ll add to his stress. I hope you understand. It’s not you, but the team. It’s for the best.”
“I won’t lie. It’ll be easier for me. But I expect regular updates.”
Her mother hugged her. “Of course. And you should visit, only no talking about the team. Since we both know he won’t stop asking about the team, we’ll have to be strong.”
Miranda nodded. “I had hoped to go to spring training in a couple of days, discuss changes with our scouting and management staff. If you’re sure you’ll be okay.”
“I’m stronger than you think, darling. Go and fix the team. That’ll heal your father faster than anything else.”
Miranda gave her mother one last hug and headed down the hall. She felt guilty for being relieved. With her no longer updating her father every day and feeling the weight of his disapproval, not to mention the staff still asking what Seamus would think, she could do what they needed and delay his full disapproval until she could prove the success.
She only feared that if she succeeded or didn’t, the result would be the same, at least as far as her father was concerned. Either way, she would have done things differently than him and he could never stand for it.