I do not own Dirty Dancing.
Chapter Nine
POV Jake
Loans
Marje sighed in defeat at missing yet another of her putts. "What am I doing wrong?" She huffed in aggravation.
"You're lining it up a little wrong, Marje," I answered dryly as I pulled the golf balls out of the hole, dumping them aside for me to putt again. She'd been trying to golf more recently, as something we could do together, but just hadn't quite been able to get the hang of it yet
"Daddy," A voice behind me called out. I look behind me to see Baby, in a red and white shirt, jean shorts, and her white Keds.
I smile at my youngest Daughter, and then, looking to Marje, say, "You know, if your Mother ever leaves me, it'll be for Arnold Palmer," I joke. I was the best golfer in town. One of the better ones at a college level, too.
"Daddy, someone's in trouble," Baby said in a soft voice.
"Besides your Mother?" I question in jest, as the woman herself missed another putt. My wife straightened at my slight, about to snap. Before she could, I call, "No, you're over-correcting, Marje," I couldn't have her getting mad at me this early in the day, could I? Then she'd put up with absolutely nothing from me for the rest of the day, and that was no fun.
Trying not to mind my getting off topic, Baby continued with her previous train of thought, "And you always told me if someone was in trouble, I should try to help." I nod, hoping she'll get to the point. Baby had to be going somewhere with this. She wouldn't start a conversation like this for nothing. "Could you loan me $250?"
$250? Why on earth would Baby need that kind of money? What for? Briefly, I wonder if she had done something. If maybe she'd damaged something, or owed someone money. "Are you alright, Baby?" I questioned in fear. "W- are you in some kind of trouble?"
"No, no! It's not me," Baby reassured me, shaking her head. "Could you loan it to me?" She continued.
I don't know. She'd have to pay it back to me. Baby did have a babysitting job back home, but it didn't pay that well, and she'd only be at home a few days before going off to Mt. Holyoke. Nowhere near enough time to pay it all back to me. "It's a lot of money, Baby," I sigh. "What's it for?"
"Baby, stand up straight," Marje called from across the course, always trying to make our Daughters more ladylike. Baby straightened in order to appease her, quickly reasserting her attention to me barely a moment after her Mother's suggestion. Then Baby said three words I never thought I would hear her say.
"I can't tell you," She says. "It- it's hard for me to say that to you, but I can't,"
"You always said you could tell me anything," I remind her, hoping she will answer. What could it possibly be that she needed that much money for, for someone else, yet couldn't tell me? She'd always trusted me with any information. What had changed? What could be so bad that Baby couldn't tell it to me?
Baby swallowed, looking bleak, "I can't tell you this,"
I look at my Daughter. I was going to have to let her grow up sometime. There was no time like the present. And I had the money, and she was going to pay it back. I supposed that it would be okay, so long as it wasn't anything against the law. I wouldn't have my Daughter caught up in something that would damage her reputation. "It's not illegal, is it?" I ask her. If not, I would happily loan her the money.
Baby looked innocently at me. She couldn't fathom my questioning her word. I'd raised her for eighteen years, Baby wouldn't get up to such things, she knew better than that. "No, Daddy," She said softly.
I shake my head, conceding. "That was a stupid thing to ask," I tell her. I could trust Baby. I'd always been able to trust her. Baby never lied, never gave me reason to doubt. Not like Lisa. I hug my Daughter, and lightly kiss her forehead, "Forgive me. I'll have it for you before dinner,"
"Is everything alright?" Marje asked from behind us. My wife had a knack for sneaking up behind you. It was puzzling, but after so long, a bit endearing. Actually, it reminded me a bit of the Cat, come to think of it. Anyway, my guess was she'd been so curious that she'd either given up on her putting, or had finally made one.
"Fine," I assure her.
Baby smiled up at me and said, "Thanks," Before turning to go back to wherever she'd come from, leaving me still wondering just why she needed that money.
To any of you who wondered, $250 in 1963 would be worth about $2014.08 today, in 2018. So when people are going on about how much money it is, and how they can't come up with so much on a weeks notice, believe it.
TheLovelyBallroomGeek