I had to pretend she meant nothing, or lose my mind.
She used me. Played me.
But even if I could’ve gotten past that, I’ll never forgive her for screwing you over.
Not one goddamn word in all these years! Too damn busy playing bushwhacker with her girlfriend.
Bushwhacker?
No comment. But now I have
to hear the story again.
I pretend to listen, catching
snatches (ooh, bad word in
context here) of his recitation: . . . from deployment, no one there to greet me.
. . . got home and Jenny says she’s moving out.
. . . in with her girlfriend. Girl.
Friend. She left me—and you— for a goddamn dyke!
. . . out the door, not so much as a good-bye kiss for her baby girl.
Wish I’d have seen it coming.
How could a mama do such a vile thing to her child?
I’ve asked myself that very
question many, many times,
invariably after Dad repeats
the tale. Usually, he’s two sheets into the wind, and today he’s
at least a sheet-and-a-half-way
there. How can he drive like this?
It’s Nothing New
Of course, and for the most part
we’ve been lucky. I mean, considering
the miles we’ve traveled, oftentimes
with him drinking either before we got
into the car or even after we were on
our way, most of his beer-fueled faux
pas were relatively minor. There was
one time I can barely remember. I couldn’t have been older than three. It wasn’t
long after we first started road tripping.
Dad let me sit up front, where I was, for sure, not safe, despite the fact that his car was too old to have air bags. Luckily,
it was equipped with seat belts. Thankfully, I was wearing mine when he swerved
to miss something in the road, overcorrected, and skidded off the highway, rolling us
down a muddy bank. We landed on the tires, and Dad was drunk enough to start laughing, even though he’d broken bones in one arm and one leg. Except for peeing my panties, I was totally fine. But we weren’t going anywhere, not in that wreck. Which is
how we came to live with Leona, who
witnessed the entire incident and stopped to ascertain the extent of our injuries.
Funny, but I can see her face peering
into my window as clear as water, and
I can make out her razor-voiced words.
Everyone okay in there? I’m a nurse.
The details blur after that, but Leona
helped us out of the car, noting Dad’s
extremities. You stay right here. Don’t try to get up. I’ll go call for an ambulance.
Ah, no, we don’t need that, insisted Dad. Give me an ACE Bandage, I’m good.
Mister, you’ve got a couple of hellacious fractures. ACE Bandages won’t fix those.
But don’t you worry. We’re a long way from town. It will take them at least an hour to get here. You should be sobered up by then. You ought to know better than to take a chance hurting your beautiful daughter. I’ll be right back.
Dad wanted to protest, but he couldn’t
stand on his leg, let alone climb back up the embankment. I remember hating
the way I felt, wearing pee-stinking
clothes. But when Leona returned,
she confirmed the ambulance was on
its way before locating clean undies and pants in the car, and helping me into them.
By the time the EMTs came scrambling
down to the rescue, Dad had realized
he’d be staying in the hospital for
a few days. What about my little girl?
I don’t know why, but Leona volunteered,
If you can trust me, I’ll take her home.
Everyone at the hospital knows who I am.
These guys right here can vouch for me.
They Could and They Did
Besides, Dad didn’t really have much of a choice, so he said why not. Leona was nice—she even took a couple
of days off work so she could care for me—but I cried and cried,
terrified I’d never see my daddy again.
I clung to him and begged to stay right there in the hospital. Promised I’d be very good. I’d already lost my mommy. What would happen
if Daddy didn’t come back? Leona pulled me into her lap, stroked my hair, soothed my fears with the motherly touch
I must’ve been missing. After enough time absorbing Leona’s kind attention, I said okay, she could take me with her.
Mid-hysteria, something meaningful must’ve passed between Dad and her, something a little girl wouldn’t realize, because after surgery to repair
his damaged limbs and a couple days recovering in the hospital, Dad joined me at Leona’s place, which is a bare-bones sketch in my memory. It was small, but I got my own bed, and I remember the sheets smelled sweet citrusy, like Ma-maw’s lemon meringue pie.