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Sometimes, Wooly couldn’t help but wonder if he had ever been this difficult as a child. A stupid question because he knew the answer. No. He was NEVER difficult as a child.
He never got the privilege.
Never got to throw a fit. Never got to argue. Never got to yell, even when he was twenty. A slap across the face would be enough to keep him obedient. It was a quick and effective go-to solution for his parents.
But he didn’t want that in his relationship with his kid. He wanted the foundation to be built on love, not fear.
But would love to be enough? Was love enough to get him through whatever rebel phase Amanda was going through?
As he sat in their dark living room on this brown leather couch on a Tuesday, wearing a dark red robe with gray plaid pajama bottoms, at three-thirty am, doubt began to fill his chest, right below his worry.
It may not be enough.
Just then, he heard the sliding of a window slowly opening and sneakers on the floor. Silently standing up, he turned around and watched as the fourteen-year-old girl “stealthily” made her way in. It would have worked if he hadn’t woken up and checked on her on a whim. Only to find pillows covered with a blanket.
He hit the light switch with a click, a little more aggressively than he intended, surprising the girl, who fell forward, face-planting onto the thankfully carpeted floor.
When she looked up to see a not-too-pleased sheep, she didn’t even try to look guilty, opting to let out a quiet “aw shit.” As if this were a minor convenience.
“DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT TIME IT IS!” he yelled, slamming the window closed and causing Amanda to wince.
“Uh, yeah, I know. So, keep it down before you wake the neighborhood,” she said as she got up and dusted herself off. Wooly looked at what she was wearing. It wasn’t anything provocative, just…bum-ish. Baggy blue cargo pants with tears at the knees. A mustard yellow hoodie with an apple smoking a cigarette on it with bloodshot eyes. The one he told her wasn’t appropriate.
“Don’t get smart with me, Amanda!” he snipped, pulling his robe closer to his body. I’ve been up for 3 hours, wondering where my kid is! I was considering going to the police for her shepherd's sake!”
Amanda, much to his annoyance, rolled her eyes. “I just went to have some fun, wooly, it’s not like I have anything to do tomorrow.”
And she was right, Amanda wasn’t stupid. As a matter of fact, she was quite the smart cookie. All her online assignments had been done this week, so now she had nothing but time to kill. Wooly knew this, and filming wouldn’t start for another two weeks, so the kid had no obligations. But still, she had an image to keep; they had an image to maintain. And that image was of a girl who didn’t sneak out of her house.
“Why didn’t you ask me! You know you're supposed to ask me before you go out, I need to know where you are, who you're with!”
Amanda stuffed her hands in the pockets of her hoodie with “ugh”. “You would’ve said no if you knew. You always say no when I want to chill with other people.”
Wooly pinched the ridge of his nose, beginning to argue with the fourteen-year-old. “I only would’ve said no if I didn’t approve of who you were going with.” Then he had a thought that aggravated him even more.
“Let me guess! It’s that Riley girl and that possum kid! I had a feeling those kids were bad influences on you, but this proves it!” he had begun to get closer to her. He wasn’t sure why, maybe in a half-hearted attempt to maintain, or regain, the image of an authoritative figure.
Amanda kept her arms in her pockets. “First off, Jordan's an opossum. Secondly, my friends didn’t 'influence' anything. I didn’t feel like staying here twiddling my fingers for a week. So, I went and had some fun.” With that, she started to turn away.
“Where do you think you're going!? Amanda! We are not done here, young lady!” Wooly shouted, beginning to go after her.
Had Amanda made her way to the stairs as she said, “Oui? Oh, I didn’t know you knew French Wooly. Well, bonne nuit!” And upstairs she went. wooly wanted to follow her but recognized he was far too angry to handle this correctly. They would have to talk about this tomorrow.
Till then, He had some sleep to try and catch up on.
Unfortunately, after that confrontation with Amanda, he couldn’t get back to sleep. Instead, he just ended up staring at the ceiling. And when it was time for him to get up, he did so with a groan and an aching need for coffee.
He'd been making bacon and eggs for breakfast when Amanda walked past. She was dressed differently this time, in a red T-shirt and black pants. He wasn’t even sure what to say to her other than “Where are you headed off to now?” He asked in a tone, suggesting he was still mad about last night.
Amanda didn’t seem bothered by this. She just shrugged and said, “Just into town, I'm bored.”
Wooly turned off the stove; the food was done anyway. “Don’t you want some breakfast?” Truth be told, he really wanted them to sit at the table together; it’d been a while since the two were just in each other’s presence without it being for the camera. He wanted to try and fix…whatever this was.
Amada stared at him before looking away; her gaze landed on the door in the living room. “I’ll pass.” She said in that flat tone that she used when she wanted to avoid conversation. As she moved towards the front door, He rushed after her. “Amanda, please.” He pleaded just as she stood a few feet away from the oak wood separating the world from their home. “Just sit and have some breakfast with me, I only want to talk.”
Amanda glanced back and saw Wooly’s pleading eyes. She let a sigh but ultimately turned around. Wooly smiled and fixed both plates and cups as she went to sit down. After he had set both of their plates down, she went for the bacon first, which didn’t surprise Wooly. The girl's love for bacon had been there since she was a little girl, not this teenager who seemed to loathe it so much.
But she didn’t touch the eggs. “Make sure to eat your eggs, Amanda.” He said as he picked up his own eggs with his fork.
Amanda didn’t reply, just kept nibbling on her piece of bacon.
He tried making conversation using safe topics. Yet those received lukewarm responses.
“Taking your meds?”
“mmhm.”
“How are your studies?”
“fine”
“Do you need any help with assignments?”
“no”
“Did you read the script for the new episode?”
“Ugh, yeah.”
He felt his ear give a flick at her response. “…something wrong”
Amanda rolled her eyes, “I guess not.” He felt his eye give a twitch. What does that even mean?
“Amanda, is there something you don’t like about the script? Because if there is, then maybe we can fix it before-“
“It's nothing, Wooly.” She grumbled, poking at the yoke of the egg, playing a game of “don’t break the yoke” with her fork.
“Amanda, if something's upsetting you, then you need to tell me so we can fix it.” His eyes were on her while her eyes stayed on her plate, but he spied a grimace. Her frown set, and her eyes narrowed.
“I said it's nothing. will you drop it already?”
Now it was his turn to be frustrated, “Hey, I’m just trying to help. Because when there’s a problem, we try to fix it. That’s what responsible people do, Amanda. Not just run off to our little friends whenever we’re upset, because we can't face our problems at home!” Okay, maybe he wasn’t exactly over what happened last night, and perhaps he didn’t have to say all that, but he could get frustrated, too.
Amanda shot him a fierce glare, stabbing the yoke she’d been toying with. Her fork made a little “tink” sound as it went through. “Oh, so that’s what this is. you just wanted to sit me down so you can lecture me about having a life.”
She stood up, chair scraping the floor behind her. “Maybe you wouldn’t have to lecture if you had a life outside this stupid show!”
He stood to, leaning over the table to glare. “Don’t you talk to me like that, young lady! I am tired of your behavior!
“Well, I’m tired of you! And that fucking show!”
Wooly sputtered. A part of him wanted to continue arguing, but he was still tired, and as much as he would like to, he didn’t have the energy.
“You know what, Amanda? Just leave. I can’t do this right now, so go.”
Amanda turned away. “Hmph, gladly.” And with that, she left with a slam of the door. He winced at the bang. He put his face in his hands. Then he stood up and went to Amanda’s bathroom. He had his own in his bedroom, so the one in the hallway was mainly hers. On the way, he had dialed up a number and began talking.
“Hey, Dad.” He said as he opened the bathroom door. “Oh, good, you got my text last night. Yeah, I want to up her dosage…yes sir, I know we did that last week, but she’s not improving, and her attitude is just getting worse and…yes sir…yes sir I know it can be dangerous but it seems like nothing affects her maybe we can switch her to a different medication………what?”
As the voice went on, Wooly held up a pill bottle, the name Amanda Hamllen typed on it. Eyeing it carefully before pouring the contents onto the counter, trying to count them and focus on the voice. “Yes, sir, I'm sure she takes her meds. I trust her to…n-no, sir, I don’t watch her take them, not anymore. I do keep count. I just-…Yes, sir, she knows I keep count…”
The more he listened, the sicker he felt. Had Amanda really been taking her medication? She’d been so obedient until she began to hang around those damn kids. And that was when she was twelve. The more he thought it over, the more it made sense.
Sometime after her newfound friendship, Amanda became ill. He thought it was a nasty fever or cold. Cold sweats, headaches, vomiting, fatigue, loss of appetite. It's just a regular sickness; no need to take her to a doctor. But looking back, was she going through some withdrawal?
Wooly began to breathe, then out as the voice went on. He sat on the toilet lid, face in hand, as he continued listening to the voice. And as he did, he asked himself that question again, was he this difficult as a child?
No, he was not.