Though Rachel didn’t like to judge, she was responsible for Zooey’s safety, and in her opinion, some of her daughter’s current friends were questionable at best.
That was what had Rachel worried. She’d raised Zooey to be street-smart as well as book-smart, but she was only sixteen and, whether she wanted to admit it or not, was innocent and vulnerable. Those traits left a girl open to all sorts of predators wanting to take advantage, as Rachel knew all too well.
After all, Rachel’s life had drastically changed when she was sixteen. She wanted so much more for her own daughter.
“And how do you know this James?” Rachel knew her suspicion was creeping out in her tone. She had heard too many horror stories about creepy men stalking girls online not to worry or to ask questions. She wasn’t exactly sure how the game console worked, but she suspected it might be similar to a computer in the ability to connect with strangers. Zooey had been speaking in real time to whoever this James person was. For all Rachel knew, it could be a grown man on the lookout for a girl he could manipulate.
Zooey scowled and defiantly tipped up her chin.
“Check the attitude,” Rachel warned.
“He’s just a friend. My best friend Lori’s boyfriend. Nobody to worry about.”
“So you’ve met him before, then? He’s your age? You’ve seen him face-to-face?”
Zooey sighed overdramatically. “Yes, Mom. He’s in summer school with me.”
Not so long ago, her daughter had been a sweet little infant curled in her arms. It had been easy to protect and care for her then.
Where had the years gone?
Zooey was old enough to date, although up to this point she’d shown little interest in any particular guy, at least as far as Rachel knew.
Zooey used to talk to her about these things, but lately, not so much. The thought of Zooey dating frightened Rachel more than she could say. She knew it wasn’t fair to project her own teenage inadequacies on her daughter, but she couldn’t seem to help herself.
Zooey was a different girl from the teenager Rachel had been at her age. Zooey was smart. Confident. Beautiful. Maybe too much so. There was no doubt she would be catching the eyes of Serendipity’s young men. And all it would take was one bad decision, one mistake, one misjudgment.
Life could change in an instant. She knew that from her own life and had been reminded of it when she’d been talking with Seth at the auction. Rachel wanted her daughter to be able to be free to chase her dreams, something Rachel had never been able to do, but in order to do that, she had a lot of hurdles to jump.
Rachel had been insecure as a teenager and peer pressure had overwhelmed her. She’d had body-type issues and high school bullies had sometimes fat-shamed her into doing things she would not otherwise have done.
That was how she’d gotten pregnant with Zooey—trying to find someone who would love her for who she was. But the boy had dumped her the moment he found out she was pregnant, accusing her of sleeping around and denying that he was even the father of her child.
He’d never loved her. Looking back, she was pretty sure he’d never even liked her. Rachel had found out the truth the hard way.
She didn’t want that for her daughter. But she couldn’t seem to find a way to express her concerns without sending Zooey on another rant, angry that her mother didn’t trust her.
Rachel didn’t know how to bridge the gap that was growing between them, but she had to try.
She sat down on the couch, curling one leg underneath her and turning toward her daughter. “I was thinking maybe if you got more involved in church activities, you wouldn’t feel so inclined to skip Sunday services.”
Zooey twirled a lock of her dark brown hair around her finger and didn’t say a word.
“You’re really good with my day-care kiddos,” Rachel continued. “Maybe you could teach Sunday school when fall comes. The preschoolers would love you. And I’d like to see you go back to youth group this summer. Didn’t you used to have a lot of friends there?”
Zooey wouldn’t meet her eyes.
She looked—what?
Frustrated? Upset? Stricken?
“Zooey?” she prompted when the girl did not speak. “What are you thinking? You can be honest with me.”
“I don’t want to hurt your feelings,” she mumbled.
“This isn’t about my feelings. It’s about trying to figure out some solutions that will work for both of us.”
“Well, I don’t want to go to youth group anymore. None of my friends go to church. They think it’s stupid.”
Rachel felt like someone had slapped her. This was one battle she really didn’t want to lose, watching her daughter walk away from the faith she’d been brought up in. But how could she stop Zooey from sliding down that slippery slope?
She pinched the bridge of her nose where another headache was developing.
Peer pressure.
Rachel’s breath snagged in her throat. She knew all about peer pressure.
Lord, help me reach my daughter.
“Which friends are those, exactly?” she asked through a tight jaw, barely restraining herself from adding that those friends probably weren’t real friends at all if they led her away from church.
“Lori and James. We want to hang out at the community pool and get a good tan once summer school is over. That’s where all the cool kids go.”
“I see.”
She saw all too well. But she didn’t know what to do about it.
Push her? Back off?
At least it was just suntanning at the pool.
For now.
“I’m not going to force you to go to youth group, if that’s what you’re worried about. But you should have been honest with me earlier and told me that you didn’t want to go rather than lying about being sick. You don’t want to participate? Then don’t. But please, be honest with me either way. And don’t make your decision based on what your friends think. I’ve taught you better than that.”
Zooey stared at her a moment without speaking. Rachel held her breath, praying she’d gotten through to the rebellious teenager. But when her daughter picked up the headset to the video game console, intending to hook it back up to the system, Rachel felt a sinking certainty that her words hadn’t had any impact at all. Reaching out to her daughter wasn’t going to work this time. So instead, she’d have to try standing firm. She stopped Zooey with a hand on her arm.
“You may be your own person, but you are sixteen years old and you are living in my house, so I make the rules. No video games on Sunday.”
Zooey’s face turned red and she dropped the headset onto the coffee table, where it bounced and then clattered onto the wood floor.
“I’ve had enough of your attitude, young lady.”
“Fine.” Zooey scowled and then marched straight out the front door.
“Where do you think you are going?” In her frustration, Rachel enunciated every word.
“Out. I’m going out. I can’t stand this. I don’t want to be around you right now.”
“Zooey, stop.” It wasn’t a suggestion, but the teenager ignored it anyway and shot off down the street on foot, not even bothering to look back.
Rachel huffed out an irritated breath and made to follow her, but just