Cynthia and her dad resolved their differences in a matter of minutes. She was forgiven, he was forgiven, and she they were not going to move, not until she had left for college.
Mine, however, was a different story. I was to be grounded for six months… not that that would actually last past three weeks, but it was still a hefty threat, even for my mom. No amount of pleading, wheedling, and yes, even crying, could move her on the subject.
Oh well, I guess I’d have to suck up for the next month or so. It made it difficult for me and Cynthia though, because it was now Spring Break and I wasn’t allowed out of the house, and she was seldom allowed in it. (We fabricated a few ‘make-up’ assignments that we had to do so we could talk face-to-face occasionally). But the separation was painful. After three days of her constant company I felt like there was an emptiness following me everywhere I went, where Cynthia should be. We talked on the phone endlessly, occasionally pretending she was Uncle Irwin or Rendor.