Free The Friendship Star Quilt by Patricia Kiyono, Stephanie Michels Page B

trying to run a marathon on a treadmill: putting in a lot of effort but not actually getting anywhere.
    Still, Brad loved his job, and all his efforts had started to pay. The high school’s marching band had earned the highest ratings in their class at both the local and state festivals. Rivertown’s band had earned praise wherever they performed. And participation in the program had steadily grown, too. Today’s band was a far cry from the dwindling handful of students enrolled when he first started his stint as the band director. He took pleasure in the growth, realizing it was largely due to his own efforts. From day one, he’d modernized the band program, introduced popular music into the routines, gotten the kids involved in choreographing half-time shows, and planned fun activities for the band members. Now, it was considered a “cool” thing to join the band, and be one of “Mr. Carmichael’s kids.”
    But “Mr. Carmichael” was tired.
    Instead of being able to relax and spend time with Jennie when he got home in the evenings, he always had phone calls to make and bills to pay, meals to cook and housecleaning to be done. There never seemed to be enough hours in the day. And, when he did take time to watch a movie with his daughter or to read the paper after she’d gone to bed, he often discovered, later, he’d forgotten to do something important.
    Like the laundry.
    And the grocery shopping.
    He frowned. He’d love to be able to spend a leisurely evening with nothing on his mind except being with his little girl, talking to her about her day, eating a nice dinner together, and enjoying her carefree chatter. How did other single parents manage to get everything done and still have time with their children? He felt like he was neglecting Jennie.
    Did she feel neglected?
    Jennie never complained. She barely even asked for help with her homework or the countless other things with which most other kids seemed to need assistance. A bit more solemn than most kids her age, she’d always been an easy child, always content. Now, he wondered how he could make sure she remained content. In the past, Sarah had been there to anticipate and take care of Jennie’s needs, but Brad wasn’t sure he even knew what his daughter might need or want. And the thought of her becoming a teenager scared the socks off him. How on earth would he help her through those traumatic years? One thing he did know, he had to find a way to spend more time with Jennie, talking and listening.
    In short, he needed to be a better father.
    Thanksgiving was just a few weeks away. Maybe he could plan something for them to do together then. He’d talk to her tonight about it, and they could make some plans together. He’d let her decide on the things she wanted to do. Shopping? He’d be there. Baking cookies? He could do that, too. Granted, he’d never baked a cookie in his life, but how hard could it be to read a recipe? Playing with dolls? A tea party? He was her man. Whatever she wanted, he’d do. She was the Princess.
    The parade! He’d nearly forgotten it was the week before Thanksgiving. He had to be there with the band, but maybe he could parlay it into a little extra Dad-time with Jennie. Instead of driving home to Grandville afterwards, maybe he could spend the weekend with his parents or at Aunt Bonnie’s. Jennie would enjoy visiting them. He’d call this evening and make arrangements.
    He’d just need to put more pressure on the band parents to help out with the transportation. This was a big honor for the school, for their band to be one of those chosen to perform. Surely, the kids’ parents would understand if he just presented it to them right. Especially the parents who had seniors in the marching band. This would be one of the few times left for those parents to see their kids march in parade. If he got enough of the parents to realize it,