Better Off Alone (Adopted by Brendon and Sarah Urie)

94. Brendon

Callie sat at the table, arms crossed a frown on her face, staring at the table in front of her.

"Callie," I said, touching her arm to get her attention. "I really am sorry. I'm sorry I didn't explain it better to you. And I'm sorry I missed so many things. I'm sorry I broke my promises."

She just frowned at me. I tried smiling at her.

"I'll be home more now that the album is done. I'll have meetings and some might be at night, but I promise. I'll tell you if they're going to mean I can't be home for dinner. And I'll try much harder not to miss school things."

Her expression didn't change.

"Okay?" I asked.

Callie stood up, slammed both her hands down on the table and signed, angrily, at me.

"You keep making promises and breaking them! Why should I believe you now?!"

She had a fair point. But she didn't give me a chance to respond. She ran out of the room and slammed her bedroom door again. I sighed. She's stubborn, that's for sure.

"I told you she was really upset, Brendon," Sarah said.

"I know, I know. I fucked up. I know I did."

"I think she's had so few people she could trust in her past, that it's going to take her time to forgive you and for her to trust you again," Sarah said. "She's not thrilled with me either because she thinks I'm hiding the fact that we're divorcing from her. I think she thinks you'll leave and I'll return her like she's an ill fitting sweater."

I sighed. Callie had only been our daughter for a few months. She'd had years of mistreatment and loss of trust. I knew she had appointments still with her therapist. I suggested to Sarah that she mention to the therapist this issue.

"I will. Or you can. Why don't you take her to her appointment on Thursday?"

"What time?" I asked.

"Four," Sarah said. I checked my calendar. I had a meeting with the label at three.

"I have a meeting. But I'm going to change it. I'm going to show Callie I'm putting in the effort I didn't before."

Sarah shrugged. She didn't know any better than I how long Callie would stay mad.

Sarah cleared up Callie's plate and wrapped it in case she got hungry overnight. She could come downstairs and reheat it if she wanted. It was early, but I was drained. I went upstairs and checked in on Callie. She was face down on her bed. I watched and saw she was breathing evenly. I went in to check and saw she'd fallen back to sleep again. I sighed. I had so much to make up for.

I pulled a blanket over her, kissed the back of her head and went into our room. I got ready for bed and then thought, maybe the vros would have some insights.

I tweeted that I was going live in a few minutes and headed down to the studio. Bogart and Penny followed me outside. Sarah was reading a book in the living room.

Out in the studio, I turned on my computer and webcam, booted everything up and tested my mic.

I waited for my intro to play before I composed myself and turned on the camera.

"Hello my vros!!" I said cheerfully. I do love connecting with my fans though sometimes even this felt like performing and forced. But the vros had been so supportive and insightful.

The comments came fast and furious.

"Alright my vros," I said. "I need some sage advice. Who better than the best people in the world? You?"

"What's up, Beebo?" Some asked.

"So, I fucked up and thought maybe y'all could help me figure this out. You see I've been really, really busy on a project and it's taken up a lot of time. Lots of late nights and long days."

"We're about due for an album, aren't we?" Someone asked. I smiled. One thing my fans aren't is stupid.

"Anyway," I said, dodging the question. "In all that I seem to have kind of forgotten that I have a daughter and that my daughter has a life outside our house. I missed a bunch of dinners said I'd be home for, and I missed her science fair at school. Which, I am proud to say, she won first place at. But I missed it and I'd promised to be there at least for the awards. Now Callie is really mad at me. Like, I need a winter coat to go into her room from the cold shoulder she's giving me."

"Uh oh. Beebo done fucked up," came one reply.

"Not good, Papa Beebo," came another.

"Yes. I know I fucked up. What I need is your advice. How do I make it up to her? How do I make sure she knows that I know I messed up but that it's totally on me, and that she is right to be mad but then show her that she can trust us. Because she's a little mad at Sarah, too. But more so me."

"Just keep being there. And make sure you tell her if you can't. Even if it's last minute. Expecting you and you not showing is pretty shitty," said a fan whose username I had seen frequently. A regular, I guess.

"Thanks. That's my plan. But how do I fix what I've already fucked up on?" I asked.

"You don't," they answered. "It's done. You can't go back and be home for dinner or be at the science fair. You have to rebuild from now. Have you apologized ?!"

"Of course I've apologized," I said. "She got mad, yelled at me - figuratively speaking - and stormed up to her room and slammed her door."

"You have a teenager."

"She's twelve!" I argued. I'm not ready for the teenage years when I'm still trying to figure out a tween.

"*shrugs* Don't know what to tell ya, Papa Urie. She must be closer to 13 by now. You're just finding out how hard parenting can be. Welcome to the club."

Not helpful. But nice to know we're not alone.