Zoë furrowed her eyebrows. "Figuring herself out? What's she going through there?"
Katie and Max exchanged an "Oh, shit" look, and Katie quickly spat out, "Everyone her age is. You remember being a teenager and finding yourself, that's the whole deal, isn't it?"
Zoë squinted her eyes at the both of them, perfectly figuring out that there was something being hidden. She felt as though people around her forgot she majored in psychology and had been practicing it for nearly two decades; she could read people as well as Brook could read her Penguin Classics. She had also figured out by now that things were being hidden from her since she shared her diagnosis, that people thought she couldn't handle big news or other peoples struggles. It was her livelihood though; she'd heard the worst of the worst.
Max sensed the sudden tension in the room, and immediately excused himself to check on Elsie again. Zoë turned to Katie. "What's up with our daughter?"
Katie sighed, put the cover over the record player and picked up their plates. "Nothing that everyone else in this house isn't going through."
Zoë scoffed. "I'm dying, but I'm not stupid. Is she getting bullied? Is she hurting herself? Was last night just a misinformed response to bad news or was there something more?"
"Look, love. There is something she's figured out about herself. But you and I both know that she needs that time to tell whoever she wants when she wants to. It's not my place to tell you, it's Elsie's. Don't try to pressure it out of me or Max, especially not Elsie. Because that's not you, and until she wants to say something, it's none of your business."
Zoë blinked, struggling to raise her arm to wipe a tear. "She used to share everything with me. With us both. What happened besides me getting sick?"
Katie shrugged, leaning against the kitchen sink. "She turned fourteen. And normally, she might've shared it with you, or her brother and I earlier. But there's too much going on in her brain at the same time. Just wait. She'll tell you."
"I'm not being nosey. I just want to help and know my kid. I can still do that."
"Ah, we know that, Zo." Katie wrapped her arms around her from behind, kissing her temple. "I do too. But there's always going to be things we'll have to let them figure out on their own."
"Yeah, I know. Sorry if I was crabby. I just want to do right by them. By all of them."
"You have and you are. She's just going through something. Doesn't mean you've failed as a parent and especially not that she doesn't care about you."
Zoë took a deep breath, looking at the motorised wheelchair that Billy had dropped off early that morning. It was state of the art, and could give her some bit of independence back. But it was still a big, heavy metal reminder of what was happening to her. Katie noticed this, and without saying much else, she gave her wife a half smile and said, "C'mon. We have nothing on today, besides talking with Elsie. I'll get a fire lit and we'll put on a film, just have a calm day for the four of us. Even one of those foreign artsy films, if you want."
Zoë smiled. "How did I get so lucky?"
"I ask myself that every day", Katie replied, kissing her before walking into the sitting room. Only a few seconds passed in silence with the two being smitten about each other when Katie looked at the drinks cabinet and said, "Shit, that vodka and whiskey we were saving for Max and Jen is gone."
"She was on that stuff?! Shit, I can't even be mad, I'm more impressed that she's alive."
"I'll be more shocked if she didn't black out. Mixing spirits at that age is no joke."
