“I’m not in your face.”

“You’re sitting less than two feet from me. What would you call it?”

“I’m curious and supportive. Lissa, what’s going on? You know you’re going to have to make some decisions about your future. You’re not going to be in high school forever. At some point you have to grow up and take responsibility for yourself.”

“And you can’t wait for that, can you?” she snapped, coming to her feet. “You’re just like those birds that push their babies out of the nest. You know what, Dad? Sometimes the babies can’t fly. Sometimes they crash to the ground and they die.”

With that horrific image, she stalked out of the room, down the hall and slammed her bedroom door behind her.

Keith held in a groan. Lately it seemed all his conversations with her were going off the rails and he had no idea why. Was it him? Was it her? Was it a generic teenage thing?

He rubbed his face wishing he were doing a better job at raising a teenage daughter. Maybe if Becky lived closer. But his ex-wife was still in Missoula and had very little contact with Lissa.

Keith shifted to the sofa and leaned his head back. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, he thought. He’d married Becky with the best of intentions. Okay, sure, she’d been pregnant, but he’d been happy about that. Maybe that had forced them to rush things, but he’d been in love with her.

Keith had been drafted by the NFL out of the University of Oklahoma. His five-year career had been spent with him mostly on the bench, as a backup quarterback. He’d had a couple of great games, but not the career he’d hoped for. When his contract hadn’t been renewed, he’d transitioned to coaching at a small college in Montana.

He and Becky had divorced almost immediately. They’d coparented Lissa until Becky had remarried, once again pregnant before the wedding. After the first of two kids had been born, he’d taken on more and more responsibility for their daughter.

Five years ago, he’d been looking for a different kind of challenge when he’d been offered the athletic director position at Birchly High School. He’d thought Becky would fight him on the move, but she’d immediately agreed to give him sole custody of Lissa. At the time he’d worried his daughter would feel rejected by her mother, but she’d seemed happy with the relocation and had settled in nicely.

Now, he thought maybe he was dealing with some serious payback for not suffering before.

He forced himself to his feet. He might not know what to say to his daughter but that didn’t mean they shouldn’t be talking. He headed down the hall and stopped in front of her bedroom door.

“Lissa,” he said as he knocked. “Open up. I want to talk.”

There was no response.

“Lissa?” He waited. Again, nothing. “Lissa, either you open the door or I’m opening it for you.”