Too Late to Right Wrongs

Back in Rush Valley, Utah, Christian Roy Lamont came home from his usual grind of law-enforcement mayhem. He had hoped that he could spend time with what was left of his broken family. Once again his hopes were dashed because, as usual, C.J. was buried in his computer game and Katy Jo was not there. It seemed as though he lost his entirefamily in that accident.

When the sheriff's deputy lost his beloved wife it nearly killed him. He was the only deputy sheriff on duty that night and he had to report to the scene of the accident, himself. With salt rubbed deeply into his wound he dove into his job, ignoring all else around him. When he finally came out of his depressive stupor four months later, everything was irreparably wrecked.

The deputy sheriff knew that it was his own stupid fault that there was no hope. Although C.J. was still there for moral support, he had mostly erected a proverbial wall around himself and hid behind the computer or in their basement, working with the weight-machine. He would only come out behind his wall when prodded. And Katy… she was always out getting drunk and lord-knows-what-else every night. Chris had no need to hide through work anymore. His new project was in trying to put what few remaining pieces there were of his family back together.

With C.J. buried in his computer game, Chris sat down on the end of the couch and picked up the phone. He had made it a point that he wanted everyone home the by the time he was before everyone was off to school, but Katy always makes a point of doing exactly the opposite of what he asked for. Once again it fell upon him, dear-old-Dad, to enforce whatever laws he had laid down at breakfast. Longing for the time when he didn't have to twist any arms to spend quality time with his family, he dialled his daughter's cell number.

"Hallo?" Katy Jo answered sounding higher than the moon.

Chris swallowed the dryness that had formed in his throat while trying to calm himself. "Katy, why aren't you home?" he said as evenly as he could. "I don't think I told you to stay out all night."

There was silence on the other end of the line. "Katy Jo, I don't want to send—"

"Yeah, yeah. I get it, already," she cut her father off scornfully. "I'll come home." With that, she hung up.

Chris Lamont placed the phone in its cradle as he shook his head dismally. He buried his freckled face in his hands while trying to pull himself together. He wanted to spend the night with his kids, but not while either one of them was intoxicated.

C.J. glanced away from his video game to see his father appearing to be on the verge of tears. At least, that's what it looked like. He could only guess that as he had never actually seen his father cry in his entire fifteen years of life. It bothered him to see him like this, nonetheless. The boy moved to alleviate the problem in the only way he knew how. He tried to distract him.

"Is she coming?" he asked.

Chris nervously ran his hands over his neatly-trimmed reddish-blonde hair and then shrugged his shoulders as he looked at his son. "I hope so," he said candidly. "I really don't want her to end up in the tank tonight and you know that that's what the sheriff will do if he has to be the one to find her."

C.J. nodded his understanding while holding back any sign of his own emotions. He thought of the last time his sister was incarcerated for being drunk under age and how she ran away for a whole week afterward. The last thing they needed was yet another stain on the family's good name. "If she doesn't come back in the next hour, do you want me to go after her?" he volunteered.

Chris let out a scoff, brushing him off as his son's maternal nature was a bit peculiar sometimes. "The last thing I need is to add your safety to my worries," he commented while shaking his head. "I want you to stay put and just let me handle it, thanks."

"You're welcome," C.J. replied, not revealing whatever hint of sarcasm there actually was behind it as he returned to shooting aliens.

Chris shook his head as he picked up one of his son's sports magazines and started thumbing through it aimlessly. When he found an interesting article he read to try and keep his mind off of how upset he was. While half-way through it he heard Katy Jo's car swerve up to the house and knock the rubbish bin over at the curb.

C.J. jumped up as quickly as his father did and being closer to the door he got to it even faster. When he reached it he hesitated while he braced himself for yet another flaming row—the normal routine was that when Katy Jo usually came home, she picked a fight with Dad, and then locked herself in her bedchamber. There were rather rare occasions where she deviated from that pattern, but the likelihood of that happening was close to nil—having watched his son take too long, Chris opened the door himself. He was impatient to get the nastiness done with already and yet he couldn't blame C.J. for not opening the door right away. When he did open it, he somewhat wished he hadn't.

Katy Jo looked at him as she staggered onto the porch. "I'm here," she said spitefully as she swayed through the entrance.

Chris Lamont noticed the stench of alcohol when she bumped into him and then headed for the stairs. "Hey!" he called for her attention as he cupped both of his hands on her shoulders from behind to stop her. "You know the drill. We're not finished, yet."

C.J. shook his head dismally as his father led Katy into the kitchen and the nightly ritual began. He stood in the doorway and watched the horror begin to unfold.

"I want you to walk in a straight line for me, please," Chris ordered.

Katy Jo wobbled as she reeled in what only barely resembled a straight path. Then she gave her father an evil look. "Happy now?" she said sardonically.

Chris Lamont shook his head in mild annoyance as he took both her hands and outstretched her arms to full wingspan. Knowing what to do, the young woman closed her eyes and reached for her nose with her right hand. She repeated this action with her left, jabbing herself in the eye in the process. Finding it as funny she laughed.

"If you hadn't been driving this could have been funny," C.J. dismally announced.

Realizing that his son was still in the room Chris looked at him and said, "Go upstairs, C.J. I need to chew-out your sister in private."

"What if there's a knock-down-drag-out?" the lad protested.

"Just go!" he insisted in an annoyed tone.

Unlike Katy Jo, C.J. was not one to out-right disobey his father. He went upstairs and waited right at the top, following his dad's exact words. There he listened with bone-chilling apprehension for the attraction to come.

"Why do you do this to yourself, Katy?" Chris asked when he stopped hearing his son's footfalls. "I'm still paying for your mother's funeral in the emotional sense. I don't like the idea of having to bury you along with her."

"Perhaps you do and you just don't know it yet," Katy Jo said cynically.

Chris shook his head, wishing that putting her in the tank didn't widen the already-growing chasm that they had between them. He knew then just what he had needed to do and he hated it. Although there were no options, he rather dreaded it because it might do far more damage to their relationship than anything else he's done thus far.

"Give me your keys," the deputy sheriff told his daughter as he held out his hand for her to place them in.

Katy just stood there, looking stunned.

"The keys to your car," he reiterated. "Hand them over."

With a moment's hesitation the girl reached into her handbag for her car keys. While giving her father the evil eye she relinquished them.

"I'm calling the DMV office first thing in the morning," Chris Lamont announced. "I refuse to be responsible for you if you're gonna drive under the influence."

Those words were what sobered Katy Jo up in a hurry. "You're revoking parental consent?!" she said in shock.

"I'm glad to see that you're not too drunk to care," he confirmed sombrely, hating even more that he seemed to be right. "I can't allow for you to continue this reckless pattern and I can't—with a good conscience—let you get behind the wheel if you're going to be irresponsible."

"That rots!" Katy Jo protested. "Why don't you just throw me in the goddamned tank and get it over with?"

Chris Lamont shook his head mournfully as he said, "Katy Jo, the situation has gone beyond that. You seem to think incarceration is a joke. I hate doing this, but I can't see an alternative. It's for your own safety, Hon."

"You don't give a flying shit about my safety," Katy said calmly as she gave her father the look of death.

"That's not fair, Katy Jo," Chris stated while sounding as injured as he felt by her words. "You and C.J. are the most important things in my life. If I were to lose either one of you I'm sure it would kill me like it almost did when we lost your mother. You are too important for me to not care about your well-being. Now I want you to go upstairs and think long and hard about what has just taken place here. I need you to look at what you're doing to yourself and search for ways to prevent further damage to our already shattered family."

Katy Jo's instant response was to disregard what was said to her and "B"-line straight for the front door. Chris managed to get in front of her and block her en route. "Where do you think you're going?" he asked as calmly as he could. "I told you to go to your room. That doesn't translate to 'Go outside.'"

With a twisting punch Katy Jo nailed her father in the sternum, pushing him out of her way. "Kiss my ass!" she said scornfully as she exited, slamming the door behind her.

As Christian Lamont rubbed his sore ribcage as he looked up and saw his son running down the stairs. "I'm going after her," he explained as he hastily stepped out.

Chris just stared at the door bedazzled as he watched him go.