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"I was getting mad now as I looked into my daughter's defiant, freckled face. "Amy, let's not have this 'What Valerie gets to do' conversation again. I'm not Valerie's dad, I'm yours. And I don't know why he lets her have her way so much... " Mr. McCreedy is cool! He's not full of old fashioned ideas... " Forget it Amy!" I got up from the table. "Get your dishes done. I don't want to talk about crazy ideas like expense accounts for teenagers!" But Dad," her soft voice called from behind me as I left the kitchen, "can I have the thirty?"I stopped and took a ten and twenty from my pocket and handed it to her."Valerie's coming over and we're going to the mall." The mall? I don't like you hanging around at the mall." But Dad, that's where the clothes are!"I guess I was being dumb about the mall. "Oh alright," I said as I left the kitchen.The next day, after work, I had to pick Amy and Valerie up from school. Valerie had talked Amy into joining the girls tennis team and the two of them. She picked up her Country Road three-quarter length jacket, her handbag and her cell phone, and left the room. She walked down the three flights of stairs to the foyer and restaurant-bar. She’d tried the lift that morning and had been left waiting far too long. Like, at least a minute and a half. It was seven thirty when she hit the restaurant. A waitress eyed her suspiciously. Em noticed this with a smile and said “Good evening” in a cheery voice. She was thinking, “The waitress has me tagged as a picky customer who’s going to want everything just so and spin the meal out to the last possible moment.” Em did that as a rule. Among certain of her workmates and friends she was famous for it. But she told herself that this was neither the time nor the place to make a point. She would eat and drink as quickly as possible and then disappear upstairs. She was certain this was the sort of place where all good guests made sure they were safely in their rooms well ahead of curfew time. .
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