Suzie’s House 479 : A Hitch in the Hinge

The door to the closet had come unhinged. It had a tendency to fall off the rail along the top in the first place, but the weird hinge on either end had never been a problem before. Ethan had no idea how he was supposed to fix it. Somehow, it all seemed a little too symbolic of his life. He planned on a bad rail, and ended up unhinged instead.

For instance, signing the paperwork for Emma’s music career. It had seemed the responsible, supportive, parentally correct thing to do at the time. Now… he had cause for regret.

“What are you doing?” Sophie stood in the doorway. There was a little, rectangular, tin can in her hand.

“I’m trying to fix this so called door on the closet. Doors should not act like accordions.”

“You didn’t mind it when we bought the house. Here, move over.” She raised the little tin can. It was machine oil.

“Let me do it.” He tried to take it from her, but she pulled it away and glared at him.

“Why? Because you’re such a he-man? You think I can’t fix it because I’m female?”

“No….” There was no way he was going to admit to that, though in truth he really wasn’t very mechanically inclined, and she didn’t seem to mind most of the time. He fell back a step. Let her see for herself that a little oil wasn’t really going to make a difference.

“Don’t go anywhere. I wanted to have a talk with you anyway.” She carefully placed the tip of the spout to various points on the hinge. Oil ran down the outside, just as he’d expect. “It’s about Emma and that contract we signed. I know the lawyer said it was all fine, but I’m not so sure.”

“I’m worried, too. I was just thinking about it. Is it really alright for our daughter to get up on a stage in front of strangers and sing? It looks like this could turn into a career.”

“Got a problem with that?” Sophie glared at him.

“I just mean…” Ethan backpedaled fast. It was so hard to tell what would set her off these days.

“I hate that about you. How wishy-washy you are. And how chauvinistic. If Emma was a boy would you have a problem with her singing career? Or is it elitism. Singing in a Rock band just isn’t the thing? That would be just like your father.”

“I just mean,” he raised his voice against the torrent of her words. “She is so shy she can’t even get on stage without wearing a mask. How is she supposed to deal with the kind of public lifestyle a singer leads?”

Sophie paused. He thought she was considering his words, but then she moved the closet door back and forth, having apparently and miraculously repaired the hinge. Except she hadn’t. It still bound at the same point.

“Privacy is going to be an issue, both for her and for us. But as long as she gets her high school diploma, I, for one, will give her my full support.”

“So will I!”

“By second guessing her decision to cut an album?”

Ethan bit his tongue. She had a point.

“What worries me is this ad executive. She seems to me like the type that will try to take advantage of them.”

“We did at least have it added to the contract that the kids would have final say in the way she uses their music.”

“I know. But… I’m probably wrong to worry. It’s just that I spent so much time trying so hard to make my life run a certain way, and then everything changed.” She glared at him, clearly meaning the time he run off. “Sometimes I feel like I’m living on quicksand. Right now what seems the most instable is that contract. I just can’t guess what might come of it.”

“Yeah. I know exactly how you feel.”

He thought she’d glare at him again, though he meant it sincerely. He also felt like he was living on quicksand, though mostly because of Sophie.

She reached into the closet through the crack she’d made by oiling the hinges, and pulled out a rubber mallet. She started waling on the hinge with it. Ethan jerked as his automatic inclination to stop her kicked in, then made himself stand still. If she wanted to destroy the hinge, then let her. He’d like to take a few smacks himself.

Except it didn’t destroy the door. It actually fixed it. So maybe she knew a few things he didn’t. He was going to have to keep thinking about things. He might not be able to fix a closet door, but he could certainly work on himself.

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