Read Online The Girl Behind the Door by John Brooks - Free Book Online Page A

me!” she screamed. “Why did you make me come here? I hate you!” The crowd closed in. Tessa was in tears. I got on my knees to talk to her, almost in a whisper. “C’mon, honey. You need to get up. Please? It’s okay. Let’s just go home. You’ll be all right.” Casey slowly picked herself up, batting my hand away with a scowl, too proud to accept help as she hobbled off the ice. She must have been humiliated and angry at herself for making such a scene, and jealous that Tessa had mastered what she couldn’t.
    After dropping Tessa off, we pulled into our driveway. Casey sat buckled into her seat sulking, ignoring us. Erika and I got out of the car and walked up to the front door. Erika stepped inside while I stood at the front door waiting for her.
    â€œC’mon, honey. C’mon inside.” I stood a minute longer, watching her, but she wouldn’t look at me. I knew if I went back to get her she’d just wave me off.
    â€œOkay, I’m going inside.”
    Moments later, Erika and I stood in the kitchen, silent, deflated. We heard a faint sound coming from Casey’s bedroom. She’d apparently snuck into the house and gone straight to her room, where she sobbed quietly. We tiptoed up to the door and peeked in.
    She lay facedown on her bed with her red parka on, her face buried in her sheets, her silky hair a knotted mess. I watched from the door as Erika sat next to her on the bed. She tried to rub her back, but Casey put her arm up to keep her mother from touching her.
    â€œHoney, what’s wrong?” Erika asked.
    Casey just stared past her.
    â€œCan I get you something?”
    Casey shook her head.
    â€œDo you want us to leave you alone?”
    She nodded.
    â€œOkay, sweetie pie. Then let me take your jacket.”
    Casey let Erika pull the red parka off and didn’t protest when Erika rubbed her back for a minute. She kissed her on the head and we backed out of the room.
    I mouthed the words I love you and blew her a kiss. She looked stonily ahead, patting around with her arm until it found her pillow and pulled it to her face. We shut her door behind us and the sobbing started again as she cried herself to sleep.
    She seemed to have a never-ending reservoir of tears.

    Birthdays were events that Erika and I had come to dread and prayed we’d get through without an eruption. Casey often couldn’t decide whether she wanted a birthday party, even though we suspected that she secretly wanted one, but it couldn’t be a surprise. She hated surprises. Perhaps on some level she felt undeserving of the attention, or was looking for a way to punish us for not loving her enough, or both. It seemed that everyone had to work extra-hard to prove their love to her.
    For Christmas, once Casey had decided on her wish list—an ordeal in itself given her penchant for procrastination and indecisiveness—it had to be followed precisely. Any deviations were met with a long face and remarks such as “I didn’t ask for this” or “Why didn’t you get me that?” followed by trips back to the mall to exchange the offending item for cash. Not only had we failed to teach her the value of appreciation, but our attempts to make her happy on special occasions had come to nothing.
    As time went on, parenting Casey often felt like breaking a wild stallion. They instinctively protect their space and dominate their handlers. Sometimes they have limited patience, lash out and bite. Only the most experienced handlers can train them. There is no single method of training that works, because every stallion is different. In each case, handlers have to project confidence and speak with authority to gain the stallion’s respect. They have to be careful not to agitate or provoke it, as its natural fight-or-flight instinct could kick in, and stallions fight. In the 1998 movie The Horse Whisperer , Robert Redford starred as a trainer with a