The plane landed at the Miami airport. C.C. was sort of nervous,
because she hadn't seen her father in over ten years. She took a deep
breath. They got their few luggage bags and headed out in front of it. They
took a taxi to the holiday inn where they got settled. C.C. put on a
tanktop and shorts and so did Fran. Maxwell put on a t-shirt and some baggy
jean shorts. They walked out of the hotel. They got a cab and took it to
her father's condo by the beach. It was a sunny, warm day and C.C. could
see teenagers running up and down the shore, laughing with their friends.
They walked up to his condo door and knocked.
A man in his sixties answered the door nicely dressed in jeans and a t-shirt with fine gray hair combed back, and he clearly appeared to be sober. "C.C.!" he said in shock and hid a grimace. "I haven't seen you in a very long time!" he exclaimed, the noticed Fran and Max, "and who is this beautiful young lady and handsome prince?" he said. Fran and Max turned red, but offered a quick smile and Fran said, "I'm Fran Sheffield and this is my husband Maxwell Sheffield and these are the little Sheffields" she said, pointing to her stomach.
He smiled and said, "Come in come in! My name's John Babcock if you were wondering." He beckoned them with his hand, and they were all soon comfortable on his white leather couch, accompanied by four small glasses of champagne. "So C.C.," he said staring straight at her, "what have you been up to?"
"W-well I'm business partners with Maxwell here, we're a play production company, very popular in New York, battling Andrew Loyd Webber you know." She retorted quickly.
Fran could see the gleam in his eyes the don't say a word or I'll hurt you look. He disgusted her. As he nodded Fran jumped in, "We came here to talk about something else though. Go ahead, tell him C.C."
C.C. whirled her head around and gave Fran an I'm scared look. Fran gave her a reassuring look and C.C. turned back to her father.
"Well come on hun, I need to know" he said in a playful tone.
"We came to confront you" she said quickly, "about what you did to me when I was six, ten, twelve, and fourteen. I've been bothered by it, and I want you to apologize."
C.C.'s hands trembled weakly.
Her father stood up, his face full of rage. "I TOLD YOU NOT TO TELL ANYONE! YOU STUPID BITCH!" he hit her across the face. Maxwell stood up and threw him on the other side of the room, and Fran and him helped a dazed C.C. out of the condo. Once they had left the beach, C.C. began to cry.
Max and Fran put their arms around her. "You tried, hun and that's all that matters" soothed Fran, "come on, we're heading back to New York."
A man in his sixties answered the door nicely dressed in jeans and a t-shirt with fine gray hair combed back, and he clearly appeared to be sober. "C.C.!" he said in shock and hid a grimace. "I haven't seen you in a very long time!" he exclaimed, the noticed Fran and Max, "and who is this beautiful young lady and handsome prince?" he said. Fran and Max turned red, but offered a quick smile and Fran said, "I'm Fran Sheffield and this is my husband Maxwell Sheffield and these are the little Sheffields" she said, pointing to her stomach.
He smiled and said, "Come in come in! My name's John Babcock if you were wondering." He beckoned them with his hand, and they were all soon comfortable on his white leather couch, accompanied by four small glasses of champagne. "So C.C.," he said staring straight at her, "what have you been up to?"
"W-well I'm business partners with Maxwell here, we're a play production company, very popular in New York, battling Andrew Loyd Webber you know." She retorted quickly.
Fran could see the gleam in his eyes the don't say a word or I'll hurt you look. He disgusted her. As he nodded Fran jumped in, "We came here to talk about something else though. Go ahead, tell him C.C."
C.C. whirled her head around and gave Fran an I'm scared look. Fran gave her a reassuring look and C.C. turned back to her father.
"Well come on hun, I need to know" he said in a playful tone.
"We came to confront you" she said quickly, "about what you did to me when I was six, ten, twelve, and fourteen. I've been bothered by it, and I want you to apologize."
C.C.'s hands trembled weakly.
Her father stood up, his face full of rage. "I TOLD YOU NOT TO TELL ANYONE! YOU STUPID BITCH!" he hit her across the face. Maxwell stood up and threw him on the other side of the room, and Fran and him helped a dazed C.C. out of the condo. Once they had left the beach, C.C. began to cry.
Max and Fran put their arms around her. "You tried, hun and that's all that matters" soothed Fran, "come on, we're heading back to New York."