Serpent’s Tooth

“Something like that.”

Before he could question her, Rina came into the room, smiled, and said, “She just showed up on the doorstep. I let her in. I take it that’s okay with you.”

“More than okay.”

“Are you hungry?”

“Starved.”

“Go wash up and sit down.”

“Baby asleep?”

“For about an hour, Baruch Hashem. She is getting so feisty. But sharp as a whip. Takes after her daddy … and her sister.”

“In the feistiness or sharpness?”

“Both.”

Cindy laughed.

Decker said, “Maybe I’ll say hi to the boys first.”

“They’re not home. Sammy and Jake went with some friends for pizza.”

Perversely, Decker felt relieved. One less human element to deal with. Then he felt guilty. They were his sons, for godsakes. But then again, they were doing what they wanted to do. Why should he feel negligent if they were out having a good time? He realized that within the span of a few moments, his emotions had gone the gamut. Which meant he was unstable. Not the best time to deal with his daughter, who obviously had a thing or two on her mind.

After he had washed, Cindy led him to the table. “Sit. Rina made a delicious stew. One of those dishes that gets better the longer you cook it.”

“With my hours, she cooks a lot of those,” Decker said wryly. “Are you going to join me? Tell me what’s going on?”

“It can wait until after dinner.”

“That bad?”

“It isn’t bad at all.”

Rina came back in, set up dinner for her husband. “I told them to be home by eleven. Do you think I gave them too much freedom?”

“No, not at all.”

“It’s just that Sammy’s so excited.”

“It’s a big event in a boy’s life.”

“A girl’s too,” Cindy said. “I remember when I got my license. The feeling of freedom … it was … exhilarating.”

“Never knew you felt that oppressed.” Decker smiled.

“It wasn’t that—”

“Cindy, he’s teasing you,” Rina broke in. “It doesn’t deserve an answer.” She gently slugged her husband’s good shoulder. “I know you’re tired and cranky, but be nice.”

“I am cranky.” Decker ate a few heaping tablespoons. “This is wonderful. Did you eat, Cin?”

Cindy nodded, smiled. But she seemed anxious. Decker felt a protest in his stomach. He wasn’t sure if it was his daughter’s nervousness or hunger pangs. After two bowls of stew, two helpings of salad, and a couple of cups of decaf, he felt ready to take on his daughter.

Take on.

As if there were an impending battle.

Rina excused herself, went into the kitchen to clean up. Cindy suggested they talk in the living room. Decker took a seat on the suede couch, patted the space next to him. Cindy sat, but her spine was ramrod straight. She was all tics and fidgets. Finally, she said, “I quit the program.”

Decker absorbed her words. “You quit the program. Meaning you’re no longer in school.”

“Yes. I have my master’s, I’m tired of all the bullsh … of all the academic hurdles. I don’t need a Ph.D. It does me no good other than to teach the same material to other Ph.D. candidates.”

Decker rolled his tongue inside his cheek. “After six years of tuition and room and board, when you’re finally self-supporting with scholarships and fellowships, you now decide to quit?”

Cindy glared at him. “You are kidding, aren’t you?”

“Of course I’m kidding.” Sort of. Decker leaned back. “So …”

“So …”

Decker said, “I guess I should be a parent. Maybe ask about your plans. Like … do you have any?”

“I think I need to get a job.”

“Good start.” Decker bit his mustache. “Want me to ask around the department … see if I can get you on as a part-time consultant?”

“Won’t be necessary.”

“You’ve found a job.”

“Yes, I have.” She closed her eyes, then opened them. “Daddy, I joined the Police Academy. Actually, I signed up a while ago. But you know how it works. There’s the exam, then the personal checks, then I had to wait until they started hiring again. Anyway, it’s a done deal. I’m starting in three months, right after the first.”

Decker stared at his daughter. “This is a joke, right?”

“No joke.” She opened her purse, pulled out a few sheets of paper. “Here’s a copy of their letter of acceptance. Here’s my letter of commitment—”

“So you haven’t mailed anything in.”

“Yes, I have. See, these are just copies. The originals are at home or with the Academy.” She held the paper up for her father to see. “See, right here—”

Angrily, Decker batted them away. He stood up and began to pace. “Cynthia, what on earth could have possibly possessed you—”

“Dad, before our emotions get the better of us, can we be reasonable?”