She was seriously late, of course, and more than a little nervous about her future. She froze like the proverbial deer in the headlights, being terrif...ed of both me and Sarita. She had acted out in anger, but she also still very much wanted me. I could see the lump in her throat and the way that she averted her eyes rather than meet mine. She was drawn to me, missed me, feared me, and was also rather embarrassed about the events of Halloween’s office party. I once babysat her, after all, and I. By that night, bedtime, it was all dry and my room was still quite bare, but Daddy still told me a story that night. We didn't have any books with princesses in them, but when I asked him to tell me a story about a princess, he drew on his imagination and spun a delightful tale which put me right to sleep.The "intervention," as I like to think of it now, worked -- and it was *not* traumatic. It was the best thing that ever happened to me, as a matter of fact. I saw a psychiatrist about another. More

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