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Chapter 6 Mothers be Good to Your Daughters Too

A little over an hour later, she knocked on the door to the boys' room and told them that they needed to leave if they were going to pick up Fred on time. Ryan, Laura, and Ashton came out of the room and joined Peyton and Gretchen in the kitchen. When Laura spotted the clock, Peyton saw her face fall and turn to an almost ghostly pallor.

"Is it really that late? Your clock said 4:30." Peyton barely heard the young girl's words because they were almost whispered to Ryan. Ryan shrugged; he didn't know whether or not the clock in their room was right. "I have to go. I'm late. Thanks for the snack," she said in a whisper as she picked up her book bag.

"You're welcome to come by anytime. And wait a sec, I'll drop you off at home after we pick up Fred."

"No, it's okay."

"Where do you live?"

"Chestnut Street," Laura answered as she stared at the floor.

"Come on, I'll drive you. It's too far to walk."

"It's okay—"

"No, it's not." Peyton insisted, so they all piled into her Lexus. She hadn't wanted anything but her own car, but Lucas, Nathan, her father, and Karen had all petitioned that she drive something safer once the children were in the picture. She believed that Nathan's exact words included something like "your driving is bad enough, you shouldn't be driving them around in a death trap." She still was not convinced until Haley sent her the statistics on the possibility of survival in the case of an accident; that quickly changed her mind. And so, the next day, she and Lucas had gone car shopping while Haley babysat for the newborn Winifred. Thirteen years later, Peyton was on her third "soccer mom" type vehicle.

She turned in her seat to make sure that they were all buckled in before starting the engine. Ryan groaned from behind her when the Beatles came on the CD player. "Come on Mom, can't we listen to something remotely cool?"

"The Beatles are very cool," Peyton replied with a smile as she pulled off their street and headed toward the middle school. She glanced in the mirror and saw that Laura was looking almost fearfully out the window. After they picked up an exhausted Fred from the gymnasium entrance, Peyton headed into Lucas's old neighborhood, where Laura apparently lived. They passed the house where Karen still resided and continued onto a connecting street, where Laura quietly informed them that she lived in the third house on the right. Peyton stopped the vehicle Laura jumped out, quickly thanking them and then making a mad dash to the front door of the tiny house.

Back at home, Ryan groaned loudly as they entered through the kitchen. "What's wrong?"

"Laura left her homework folder here."

"Can't you give it to her in class tomorrow?"

"Her parents have to sign the papers in here or she has to stay inside at recess."

"Don't worry. I'll drop them off after dinner." The offer gained her a suspicious look from Ryan. "I promise not to embarrass you. Too much." Ryan rolled his eyes but, in a surprise move, hugged her.

"What's that for?" She posed her question with a laugh as she playfully ruffled his hair.

"I don't know," said Ryan as he shrugged his shoulders and then disappeared to get ready for dinner.

"Mom, I'm going to take a nap before dinner," Winifred said softly. Peyton looked immediately concerned and leaned across the island counter to feel her daughter's forehead. Not surprisingly, it was warm. Without comment, Peyton pulled the bottle of Motrin from the kitchen cabinet and handed the pills to Winifred, who took them without complaint. "Wake me up for dinner?" Peyton nodded but didn't speak; she never lied to her children. She was still deep in thought over the incidents of the day when Lucas walked through the door five minutes later.

He walked in the kitchen door and kissed Peyton as he walked past to put his bag in the den. "What's up?" He stopped when he realized that she was off in space somewhere, not actually paying a bit of attention to him. She shook her head and continued to saw at the bread she was trying to cut.

"We're having breadcrumbs tonight?" Lucas asked with a laugh when he looked at the cutting board and noticed that was exactly what she had created.

"If you don't stop laughing, that's just what you'll be having."

"I'm stopping."

"I thought you might."

"Bad day?" He stepped behind her and put his arms around her waist, hugging her from behind.

"No," Peyton answered slowly. "Just different."

"Want to talk about it?"

"Later."

"Okay. I'll be back in a minute." Five minutes later, once Lucas had exchanged his Dockers, button up, and tie for khaki shorts and a tee shirt, the family reconvened for dinner. Peyton had planned to allow Winifred to sleep, but she must have heard Ryan in the hallway because she arrived at the table of her own accord.

"How was school?" The question Lucas posed was a general one, open to anyone who dared approach it. Ashton quickly complied, explaining in great detail all the things he would be expected to do in the second grade. After much prodding on the part of Lucas, Ryan informed them that the day had been 'alright' and his teacher had seemed 'nice.'

"How was your day, Fred?"

"It was okay."

"Just okay?"

"Yeah."

"How did practice go?" Peyton was curious about the cheerleading situation; she was anxious to see how it would turn out and hoped that Winifred would enjoy it more than she did in her earlier years.

"It was okay," Fred said again, this time intently casting her eyes down at her plate. So that is where the day had gone wrong. The conversation slowly veered to the start of basketball season and the party that Peyton was supposed to host as the wife of the coach. Dan's yearly basketball party had long since ended but a party always happened. In the most recent years, the responsibility had fallen to the head coach and his family.

After the dinner dishes had been cleared and Lucas promised that he and Ashton would finish washing them, Peyton climbed the steps to Winifred's room; she was determined to find out what had happened at cheerleading. She remembered the promise to Ryan, but she still had time to drop off the little girl's notebook after she skillfully invaded her daughter's privacy. Knocking on the door, she waited to hear an invitation. Winifred was at her computer, apparently conversing with friends by way of instant messenger and web cam. Some things never changed. Peyton cringed; there was pop music coming from her daughter's computer. Some things did apparently change.

"Hi Fred."

"Hi Mom," she said without turning around. She changed the music, well versed in her mother's hatred of pop. They were silent for a few moments before Winifred decided not to skirt around the issue. "I don't really want to talk about it."

"Then there's something to talk about?"

"Not really."

"Really?"

"Mom," Winifred said with an agitated groan.

"Okay," Peyton said as she raised her hands in defense. "I'll drop it. But if you want to talk—"

"I know where you live," Winifred said sassily.

"Funny." Peyton raised her eyebrows and stood up. "You're very funny." She smiled, leaned down, and dropped a kiss on the top of her daughter's head. "Get the homework done. You don't need to stay up late tonight. Bed by ten, got it?" Winifred nodded and watched as her mother half-heartedly walked out of the room. She wasn't used to not being able to glean information from her children and it didn't sit well with her.

The title of this chapter comes from the refrain of John Mayer's song Daughters.

"Fathers be good to your daughters

Daughters will love like you do

Girls become lovers who turn into mothers

So mothers be good to your daughters too"