Ashley returned from school in a foul mood. Mike called soon after. He was doing okay but said it appeared as if he was going to be in Mesa Vista at least until the end of the weekend, and he needed clothing and grooming supplies. It was tough down there because he was in ICU with all the loony people that had been picked up off the streets by County Mental Health, and some of them were prone to violence. He’d been participating in different forms of therapy, and his psychiatrist at the facility said that maybe he could be moved to a different unit by the end of the day. Mike said he was lonely. That figured- he was cut off from the entire family. He asked if we could come visit, and I said that Margret had forbidden him to see the kids until further notice. He began to cry and said he needed to see Ashley, and while I tried to be patient, my blood began to boil. Even with all the trouble he’d brought on the family over her, she was still the person he cared about the most. I repeated that he wasn’t allowed to and reminded him that we could lose the kids if I gave into his wishes. His voice became peevish. It wasn’t fair, he said, to be punished this way. He had some things he needed to say to her, and he wanted a visit. I just shook my head in sadness and anger. It was like listening to a cranky child. Mike said his time was up because the phone calls were to be kept short. He had to go, but he’d call me back later. I took the number of the unit payphone and as I hung up I heard a weird click come from the receiver. I didn’t think anything of it until I passed Ashley’s room on the way to the kitchen and heard her say, "Bye, Dad. I love you”. Stunned, I threw open her door and stared at her. As I stepped in she gave me a triumphant smile, offering a simple "Dad wanted to talk to me" as explanation for her disobedience. “Are you aware that you are putting you and your siblings at risk by talking to him on the phone when Margret said he’s not allowed to speak to you?” I asked. “Do you realize she could put all of you in foster care?” She tossed her head and said, as if she hadn’t heard, "Dad wants me to visit him." "You can’t," I said flatly. “No visits, no conversations. Don’t let me catch you talking to him again until Margret says you can.” Ashley glared at me and I left the room, heading for the washer. She followed me out and seemed to be challenging me when she said there was something I needed to know about Mike. “What?” I asked impatiently. She looked down at her hands. “He’s smoking. He started while we were in the hotel.” I was speechless and furious. How could he be smoking when for as long as I could remember all I’d heard was how allergic he was to cigarette smoke! And then I recalled all the times he’d sat right next to Ash in that small office, a cigarette blazing from her lips and the smoke curling around her. Second-hand smoke! Ashley was responsible for getting him hooked and, and not only was I angry with her, but I despised Mike for his weakness. Like I hadn’t warned him! If this wasn’t enough of a mess, my father called me that afternoon. He’d been having some medical problems recently and had it checked out by his doctor. The results were back, and he had prostate cancer. I just sat there, closing my eyes in pain, and asked how bad it was. My dad said he was probably mid-stage and needed some aggressive treatment, but if he followed the doctor’s orders he should be okay. That is not as good as it sounds because Dad is notorious for living his life his way and not listening to his doctor. As soon as he hung up, there was Mike back on the phone. Somehow he’d already heard about my father, and he was sorry he couldn’t be at home to comfort me. He said he’d telephoned Margret to ask about the children visiting and also left a message for her supervisor to complain about her lack of professionalism. In turn, I told him that I didn’t appreciate him going behind my back and speaking to Ashley when it could get all of us in trouble. All he could say was that he missed her and just wanted to say, “hi”. Another telephone call came in as I was hanging up, and it was Marilyn, checking in for me. She asked how I was doing, and I said I was tired and losing patience with Ashley. I didn’t tell her about her talking to Mike, but I hinted that she was going to be difficult to control without him here, and Marilyn commiserated. She asked if I’d had another chance to talk to my daughter since Tuesday, and I replied that she was hostile and wanted to be left alone. Puzzled, she asked what happened to our newfound friendship, and I said I had no idea. Had she, Marilyn asked, had any opportunity to spend time alone with her father since then, and I said yes. Tuesday night, almost all day Wednesday and the day before until they returned home. She speculated that, knowing he was losing control over Ash, he had probably said something to her about me to make her angry on purpose. I agreed, but there’s nothing I can do if she wants to act like that. It was almost 4:30 by this time, and I had nothing planned for dinner. I gave the kids a quick snack to ward off hunger and threw some clothes into a load of laundry and another load in the dryer. Half an hour later the doorbell rang, and it was a pizza delivery service. Bless Marilyn, she had called in a pizza order for us upon discovering how bad my day had gone. It was a wonderful gesture of friendship and concern, and it made my awful day a little brighter. What I didn’t know was that my troubles were just beginning.