This is from a request from a while ago. But I think it came out well. I have broken it down into two parts. The subject was what if Jay had a teen daughter instead of a son.
I have received more requests but have had a hard time finding time to write. I think I accomplished one page this week. So I ask for your patience as life is busy.
Daddy's Girl
I put the finishing touches on my eye shadow. I had been in the bathroom for quite a bit of time, but Dad was used to that. When it came to bathroom occupancy, I took up the ninety percent, while he was left with a paltry ten. But he never complained, well, rarely complained. A home with two bathrooms would be great, but unfortunately not in the budget. I loved our condo; it was an older two flat in Logan Square. It had the bay window in the living room, where I would sit and read for hours. We were on the second floor and had to endure going up a flight of creaky stairs with everything from groceries to heavy book bags. However, I loved being up a little bit higher, seeing the rooftops and upper branches of the trees. I would chatter with along with the squirrel who always seemed to be just outside my bedroom window, and watched the nest of birds I could see if I craned my neck just right.
The neighborhood was in the midst of gentrification and there was an opportunity to buy before the prices got outrageous, so Dad took the plunge and bought this place, one-bathroom, creaky stairs and all. It had been updated, the kitchen, not of showroom quality, but bright and shiny, with a small island where I would do my homework while Dad cooked dinner—if he was home that is. It had great light, lots of windows, blond hardwood flooring, a washer and dryer, (my favorite) and a shared garage (his favorite). The street was quiet and tree-lined, the schools were rebounding in their population and sometimes you could, if you squinted the right way, believe that you were in a small town. Not that I want to live in a small town, I love Chicago.
"Finish up in there," Dad yelled. "You're going to be late."
I also love my father and he was right. He had always been my hero, larger than life in my eyes. Nothing and nobody could ever take Jay Halstead down. He was still my brave champion, but now that I was fourteen, I wasn't as prolific about sharing my adoration.
I was taking too long, but I wanted my makeup to be perfect. Which was stupid because there was no way I was going to be able to get out of the house with it on. Dad would never allow it. He had promised that I could wear makeup when I went to high school, but in very modest amounts and this was not that. If I had a mother, then things might be different—maybe he wouldn't so be so protective. Then again, maybe he would. But my mother had left years ago in a puff of smoke. Later we had discovered why, but it hadn't done much for the sting of her abandonment. Traces of her were everywhere, mostly in tendrils of memories that clutched and wrapped themselves around my father. But I suppose I was the biggest trace of them all. Me, the only offspring of Jay and Emma, whose love self-combusted with an intensity that befitted it.
I looked at myself in the mirror and studied my efforts as well as the bright blue eyes I inherited from my mother, my coppery, mostly brown hair from my father. I had it pulled back into a ponytail, a flannel shirt on top of a somewhat revealing top that would stay hidden for now. My skirt wasn't too short, just above my knees, Dad approved, and still flirty all the same and my favorite boots put just the touch on it all. Dad always threatened to send me to the neighborhood Catholic school on Ridgeway, Our Lady of Grace if I didn't watch myself. But I think he was all bluff and bluster. Like I said, protective. He didn't know how to be any other way.
My mother named me Victoria Jayden Halstead, the surname attaching me to my father despite his absence at the time of my birth, so certain she was that he would return. She wanted a strong name for her daughter, perhaps aware of what my future might entail. I hated the name Victoria, so it didn't take long for it to be shortened to Tory. Jayden was of course for my father, which he hated. So, when I was called Victoria Jayden, I knew I had better rise to the occasion of whatever was demanded of me.
I was equal parts, girly-girl and tomboy. There is a picture of me taken when I was five, I was wearing overalls, with a doll in one arm and a soccer ball in the other. That pretty much sums me up. One minute sweaty, wearing a dirt-stained softball uniform, the next minute in a dress, looking delicate with a flower behind my ear and painted fingernails.
"Now Tory!" My father bellowed and I knew the dreaded Victoria wouldn't be far behind if I didn't get moving. So I took a breath and pushed my way out of the bathroom, scooted to my bedroom, grabbed my backpack and headed for the front door, head down, acting casual. I was certain of success, freedom just a few feet away when Dad's detective, something-isn't-right, instinct kicked in.
"Freeze," he ordered with a mixture of sharpness and incredulity as if he already knew what he was going to find.
"Yeah?" I asked, speaking to the wall, as I didn't dare turn around.
"Turn around please," he asked, and I damned him for knowing everything. Everything! I slowly spun around until I faced his direction, but my eyes were boring holes into the floor. "Look at me."
I did, I mean what choice did I have? "Victoria Jayden!" He said with a sigh that seemed to let all the air out of his lungs. It was the dreaded full name, well, very nearly. If Halstead had been thrown in there I probably would have dissolved into tears. Which, by the way, rarely work on him anymore.
"You said when I was in high school, I could wear makeup and I'm in my second week of ninth grade. So what's the problem?" I ask as if I didn't already know.
"You know exactly what the problem is," he says, and I hate his little quizzes. He so often makes me tell him what I'm doing wrong. It must be some little parenting trick that is used to torture offspring.
But I shrug and reply blandly, "I don't know, and I have to get to the bus stop."
"You are not leaving this house looking like a clown."
I have to admit that hurts. Okay, I went way over our agreed amount on makeup, but a clown? Really Dad? "All my friends wear their makeup like this." I try. The trick of kids and teens everywhere.
"First of all, no they don't and second of all, if they do, you need new friends. And third, I don't care, you will not. Go scrub your face." I knew he wouldn't fall for any of my argument, but a girl has to try. "Let's go kid, you need to get to school and I have to be at work."
Ten minutes later I'm back out of the bathroom, freshly scrubbed, with an unpleasant demeanor. I didn't even have time to do my usual, allowable routine of some foundation and blush. Oh, and some shiny lip-gloss.
I stomp down the stairs as Dad locks up. He is equally unpleasant as now he has to drive me to school and will be late to work. Our ride is mostly silent, but I feel his glances as I stare out at the passing scenery.
"We'll talk about this tonight," he tells me as he pulls up to the school drop-off zone. Like I didn't already know that conversation would be happening. I throw my door open when he stops me. "Forget something?" He asks.
Despite my frustration with the fact that he actual parents me, I comply and look over at him, forcing a smile, that really wasn't that hard to find. "I love you Dad. Have a good day." And for good measure and hopefully mercy later on tonight, I lean over and plant a kiss on his cheek.
"Love you too kiddo, have a great day."
Several years ago, he had been shot, sort of in the line of duty. Anyway, it was touch and go for a while and all I could think of as I sat in the hospital waiting room that day, was that I hadn't told him I loved him the day before. So I vowed that I would tell him every morning—just in case. And so far it has kept him safe.
I hop out of the truck and find two of my best friends; Lily, my definite bff and Lindsey my secondary bff. We aren't quite the three musketeers as Lindsey could be a bit fickle, her loyalty easily challenged if someone else more interesting came along.
"Aww, you are so cute," Lily told me smiling at my actions in the truck and my dad peels away and heads to the district.
"Fuck, if my dad looked like that, I'd kiss him too," Lindsey added.
And therein lies an issue for me. My dad is a dilf, if you don't know what it stands for go look it up, because I'm not explaining it to you. It changed from cute little crushes by my schoolmates in middle school to flat-out lust now that I was in high school. But it embarrassed the hell out of me and made me wish he was fifty pounds overweight and balding like so many of the fathers I see at school and sports functions. He didn't even have the decency to be a dork. He knew all the slang, because of his job and kept up with all the latest trends.
"You look all—clean," Lily said looking at me.
I tell them of my foiled attempt from a half hour ago. "Too bad," Lindsey says coolly, her eye makeup having her ready for the drag queen stage. Glitter sparkling in the morning sun. Lily has boundaries more like mine, but her parents aren't quite as attentive during the morning rush of school and work with the responsibility of an additional child, Lily's younger brother Shane.
"You aren't in trouble?" Lily asks me. "Like you can still come over tomorrow night, right?"
"Yeah—at least I think so. He didn't say anything about being grounded, just said we'd talk tonight. I think it will be okay, he needs a date night anyway."
Date night, was a night without me at home, meaning he could bring a date home to spend the night or some of the night. He was careful about who he introduced to me, but it wasn't like I didn't know he slipped in adult fun time around my schedule in other ways. Other than Erin, his partner from years ago, he hadn't really been serious about anyone. He and Hailey, his current partner sometimes throw weird vibes, but I didn't sense anything too lasting. Or maybe they were friends with benefits. I didn't know and didn't particularly care either.
We make our way inside and prepare for a stimulating day of listening to all the things we are expected to learn but often don't.
During free time in English, when we are supposed to be writing in our journals, I am doodling a picture of my cat and thinking about my dad. I have a scanner app on my phone, which I hid behind an app that supposedly tracked my menstrual cycle, so Dad didn't even bother to check its authenticity. When I got my period last year, he knew that his little girl was drifting away, growing up whether he liked it or not. When I told him of my biological lurch into womanhood, he became so pale you would have thought he was the one bleeding.
On the app it had stated an armed robbery at a bank not too far from the twenty-first district, which of course made me wonder if the Intelligence Unit was involved, and if so, what action my dad might see that day. I hate the app for making worry all day, every day, but it was like a drug that I couldn't shake. I needed to know what I didn't want to know.
My childhood wasn't what you would call idyllic, but he had made the best of a shitty situation. I spent my small years atop his shoulders, where I was certain I could touch the sky. When I asked of my mother, his lips would turn up to a smile, while his eyes refused to follow despite his best efforts. But he never disparaged her, and when he discovered her truths, he broke it all down for me, painting her as a hero and not the villain I had constructed. He loved her then; he loves her now. He will always love her. He sees her in me and loves me immensely just because her DNA is floating within me, in addition to my own stunning personality and fantastic attributes. I on the other hand, love her, but from a distance, well we both do, because there isn't any other choice. He never proclaims his love, it is quiet, subtle, sitting in the corner on every date he goes out on, with every woman he brings home—which isn't often. But he can't move on, not really and he's not very good at pretending. I struggle in my forgiveness. She could have stayed. Dad could have handled it all, but she never even gave him a chance—all because she wasn't up for a difficult conversation. Remember when I said he was protective? Well that would have included her. He would have died for her, and perhaps that is what sent her running. But he would also die for me or any other citizen of this city and where would that leave me? I think she was selfish, while he thinks she sacrificed. I found that I loved her, but I didn't like her much.
I continue to doodle a fluffy tail and squinty eyes. When we moved into our current comfy condo, I missed our old neighborhood, the friends and school I had attended, so in an effort to make it more like home and cheer me up we went to the local animal shelter where I picked out a companion. He was a two-year-old, medium haired, gray tabby name Mr. Fluffer Nutter and I loved him. He was my responsibility. I fed him, combed him, scooped his litter box and in turn he ignored me. Not really, his aloofness was sporadic, his love much more consistent. He usually slept on my bed, attacking my feet and purring his way into my heart. I spent my allowance on tiny mice and catnip toys that we would play with while listening for the garage door to go up and feet on the stairs indicating that my dad was home.
I thought back to last Friday night, when we had gone to the Cubs game, his smiles as he pointed out things I already knew or didn't care about. But I played along, as I thought back to that day in the hospital and how close I had come to losing him. We made annual treks to Wrigley Field, Soldier Field and The United Center, I cheered as loudly as he did, because it made him happy. We had matching jerseys for each sport, a tradition that started when I was six and he attempted to fill the void my mother had left. It wasn't that I didn't enjoy our time together, because I certainly did, but I was growing up, changing and we both knew it and we fought it, but recognized that we would lose in the end anyway.
For my interests, we went to the aquarium where I would complain about the size of the pools for the dolphins and beluga whales and demanded to know why it wasn't better. That these magical creatures deserved better. I was easily dismissed and would sit and watch them in their circular behavior, quietly sympathizing with their mundane lives. I still had the stuffed beluga whale that my dad had bought me that day. It sits on my bed every morning after I make it.
My favorite place was the Nature Museum with the constant flutter of butterflies. I would drag Dad in there and watch as they landed in his thick bristly hair. There was something magical about it to me and I would take the vision with me and into my dreams.
Back when I was around six or seven, I was into princesses just like most of my friends. They had some kind of princess dinner extravaganza at a local mansion and my dad got tickets, dressed up in a suit and escorted me. Once there, I was shown a variety of dresses of which to choose and a little tiara was planted on my head. For the longest time it had been the best night of my life. There is a picture of the two of us, commemorating the event, it is in a fancy frame and front and center in our living room. I look at the picture, the expression of love, so clearly on his face, and never fails to make me smile.
"So I'll see ya Saturday night, right?" Lindsey asks Lily as we walk out of school.
"Yep, we'll come over," she replied looking at me.
"Unless Hot Dad, grounds her. Did he work late again, causing you to act out this morning?" Lindsey asked.
"If that were the case, I'd constantly act out," I told her.
"Hey, Tessa," Lindsey yelled, as she saw another girl from our class. One I was banished from associating with after "the incident" this past summer.
"She won't be at your house or Lindsey's, will she?" I ask Lily.
"Not my house and she knows you aren't supposed to be around her. But who knows with Lindsey. If Tessa is there, we'll just go back home. I'll make something up so it's not on you."
"Okay. Thanks. I still can't believe she did that to me."
"I know. It totally sucked. But at least your dad believed you."
"He always told me sometimes honesty will get you into some trouble, but there will a time when honesty will save you. He believed me because I had never lied to him."
"Well I doubt you'll be able to hold up to that standard, but hey good for you and your streak thus far."
The pans are sizzling with veggies in one and steak in the other. I am trying to figure out my math while Dad looks like a short order cook. "Dad, the rice is boiling over," I tell him as the bubbles clear the lid and slide down the pot. "Do you want me to help you?"
"Keep doing your homework. I've got this." He assured.
"Okay," I tell him as I look back down at the example problem and try to weave its logic into the one I was working on. The clock says 8:00 and I'm starving. I ate a snack when I got home, but it wore off hours ago. Dad got home at 7:15 and jumped into the kitchen to make fajitas. In his mind if we had dinner together it didn't really count that he was late from work. Though I'm not sure what the definition of late is, as it only seems to matter that he is home before I am asleep.
I know he tries, but it doesn't make me any less sad to sit and wait for him. For years I shared that institution with a babysitter. We would sit and wait, and wait, and oftentimes, wait. I would go to bed, sad, worried, thinking about where my dad was and what he was doing that made him miss eating dinner with me, saying goodnight to me. He would always try to make it up to me on the weekends, but he was only human, and humans get tired.
We got our food and headed to the dining room to eat. Our apartment was in many ways a typical shotgun type layout, but also kind of weird. If you came in the front way, there was a small foyer with a closet where we left coats and shoes, Dad was always telling me to tidy it up as my shoes were strewn everywhere. Then there was our living room and dining room, they were separate but flowed into each other making for a spacious area. The dining room had a small bay window where I set my plants that I tried to nourish. Off the dining room to the left was my bedroom, not huge by any standards, but big enough. Across from my bedroom was the bathroom on the right-hand side of the apartment, then back on the left-hand side was Dad's bedroom, bigger than mine and with two windows. But he had a queen-sized bed and paid the mortgage, so I guess that was fair. Back on the right-hand side across from his bedroom was the kitchen, so yes, the bathroom sat in-between the kitchen and dining room. Then after the kitchen was what was called a sitting room, it was small, but held the stackable washer/dryer and Fluff's litter box. Then the back steps to the shared backyard and garage. The front of the unit was stone and it dated back to the 1800's. The first floor and basement belonged to the Farris family, a mom, dad and two little boys. They were a nice enough family gone much of the day to work, school and daycare. The boy's bedrooms and a rec room were in the basement and that helped keep it quiet. They were rarely in the backyard, but I often discovered if I went outside, they would inevitably pop up and ask me question after question about anything: was the sky blue, why was it blue, where did I go to school, why did I go there, where was my dad, where was my mom. Let me tell you, a girl can only take so much. Thankfully, they had never asked me to babysit.
We sat down and ate, Dad attacking his steak fajita with a ferocity of a teenage boy in the cafeteria. I was curious if my weekend was still intact or if I would be grounded for my makeup stunt this morning. But I ate and watched him devour his meal in silence. Once done he looked up at me and smiled. "Guess I was hungry."
"Guess so." I agreed pushing my plate away. My mom was a vegetarian and I followed suit, Dad however did not. But he respected my choice, and we worked it out for the evening meals. "Um, can I still go to Lily's this weekend to sleep over?"
He inhaled deeply, took a drink of his beer and sat back as if I had just asked him for permission to marry. "I'm not happy about this morning. What made you do that?"
"I don't know. I'm a kid; can't I just do stupid stuff?"
He jerked his head back at my response. "Okay, sure, overall it was harmless, but it was also against what we had agreed upon. When you agree to something you honor it."
"Well, I didn't want to agree to it," I tried.
"But you did agree to it because the other option was no makeup at all. Would you like to change your preference?"
"No," I said quietly.
"Okay then, I don't want to see that again. What is it again? Blush, foundation, and lip gloss in small amounts. I see what I did this morning there will be no more makeup for your entire freshman year. Understood?"
"The whole school year?" I gaped at him.
"The whole school year. I'm serious Vic (one of his nicknames for me). I'm not thrilled about what I am allowing you so don't push me."
"But other girls—" I began, the old tried and true argument and cornerstone of every childhood dispute that never worked.
"You already tried that this morning. If you abide by the rules, you can wear more your sophomore year. Maybe."
Now I sighed deeply. "What about Halloween? Can I wear makeup then?"
"Of course. But you know that I want to see your costume. None of that short skirt, sexy stuff," he says practically choking on the word sexy. I knew he meant costumes that had become popular like slutty nurse and waitress but couldn't quite wrap his tongue around it.
"Okay. But can I go to Lily's Saturday night?"
"Yes, but this morning doesn't happen again, clear?"
"Yes, it's clear. Thanks Daddy."
"Is your homework done?"
"I still have some math."
"Okay, I'll clean up while you finish it and it looks like we'll have a little bit of TV time."
"I get to pick," I announce as I take my plate to the kitchen.
Jay
We ended up watching some Animal Planet show, which is often the case when she gets to choose. I'm sure it could have been worse. When she was younger it had gotten so that I had practically memorized all the movies and cartoons that she watched. She liked the happy endings; I suppose that's because she hadn't had one. It would never matter how hard I tried, what I did or didn't do, I would never be her mother, never make up for that loss. They say a boy needs his mother, well a girl does too, probably even more so. There are so many things I just don't know, can't know. When your daughter comes to you in tears and you can't make it better because you don't understand how the female hierarchy works, it just sucks. I could kiss a boo-boo, swing her in the air, tickle her until she giggled, but I was no good at why girls are mean or did what they did. I was no more educated on the matter now nor did I know what nail polish would look good, which color dress suited her complexion or what to say when Cory ignored her after telling her that she had looked pretty the day before. Nevertheless, what I did know was that I loved that kid more than life itself, and I made sure every day that she knew that.
I frequently went to Kim and Hailey for the things I simply could not grasp. And when the drama was big enough and I couldn't be a go-between, they took the reins. Tory was a great kid. Easy to get along with, low on drama, high on sweetness. She was responsible, gentle and loving. She loved her books, sliding into second base, playing the flute and shopping. Though I'm not as easily manipulated as I once was, she could still find my soft spot with a bat of her eyes and calling me Daddy.
I missed the days where I could make everything okay with ice cream and a trip to the park. I recall the times of sitting with her at Wrigley, her ponytail pulled through her Cubs hat, singing Take Me Out to the Ballgame at the top of her lungs, because it was just fun. Now she shrinks down in her seat, trying to disappear during the seventh inning tradition. My baby is growing up and she attempts to remind me of that much too often, just as she did this morning. There are days that I feel like everything is a negotiation and she is the one that knows what she's doing while I am just trying to hang on. I know what I see on the streets, but I don't know what a typical gaggle of ninth grade girls is like. What they do that is normal, abnormal. But I do know what ninth grade boys think and do and that's why I'm so protective.
I always knew girls, boy's, men and women were different. That males tend to think in a linear way while the mind of a female is a maze, full of twists and turns and dead ends. That is where I often end up when talking with my daughter. She leads me around until I am totally lost. I often wonder if I'd be a more competent father if I had had a son, but then again maybe not.
I wonder if her stunt this morning with the makeup was because she wanted to be in trouble, that she wanted to be grounded this weekend. But she and Lily were close and I can't imagine that she wouldn't want to spend time together. It's not like Tory to act out. Maybe I didn't dig deep enough. I know as a boy I did stupid things with no other reason behind it, but like I said, girls are more complicated.
Last summer there was an incident with another girl named Tessa that I have since forbidden her to hang around with. Was she involved with something that Tory wanted to avoid? Was I overthinking this? Why was I overthinking this?
Tory is smart, imaginative. When she was six, she loved the Pete the Cat books. I had to buy every single one of them and we would read them repeatedly. She even picked up the nickname Pete. I still slip it in occasionally much to her chagrin. I still can't believe that she didn't change our cat's name to Pete. But then again, I guess she has moved on, grown up, all the things that are difficult for any parent to witness.
I look down at Nut, as I call him, who is busy rubbing all of his excess fur on my lower pant leg. I never thought much about animals either way. I had nothing against them but didn't feel the need for a pet. When we moved here, and Tory missed everything that we had left behind it seemed like a logical thing to do. She had always loved animals and was old enough to be responsible, so I took a chance, and it worked out well enough. Although I wasn't particularly a fan of the pile of cat food and hair filled vomit that greeted me in the bathroom this morning. I reached down and scratched his ears, his purr roaring back at me loudly. I yawned and stood up from the couch and followed him to Tory's room where I opened her door and stepped in to see her sleeping. Her hair framing her serene face. Her mother's face. I try and shake Emma from my mind, but it is never an easy task. Nut jumps up and finds the crook of Tory's knees and settles in. I close the door most of the way but leave it cracked so the cat can leave if needed. Then I head to my own bed and try to find sleep.
Tory
"Got everything?" Dad asks me as I zip my backpack.
"Yes. If I need something, I'll just come back and get it." I say and watch his face falter a bit. "Maybe I should text first though," I add. "In case you have company."
"Good idea. Okay, have fun. When will you be home Sunday?"
"Probably early afternoon. I have an English paper I have to work on."
"Sure you don't want me to drive you?"
"Dad, it's two blocks. I can walk."
"Fine, sorry, just offering." He says with a smile.
I laugh and give him a peck on the cheek as I bounce down the steps and into an adventure I was ill-prepared for.
Lily and I laugh and goof around until after dinner. Enjoying our time with nothing on the schedule. Once back in her room she begins to pull out clothes from the back of her closet; lacy tops, short skirts, fishnet stockings and throws them on the bed. "Dress-up time," she croons.
"Wow, those are—" I struggle for the word that doesn't sound derogatory.
"Sexy," she giggled.
"I was thinking slutty."
"You are such a good girl," she laughed. "Let's try some on and some makeup too."
I was uncomfortable with all this. I didn't dress like I was Amish, but low necklines, short skirts and so forth weren't my chosen attire. And even if they were, Dad wouldn't allow it.
"Oh come on," Lily chided. "We're just in my room."
So I acquiesced and began trying on different things. Then we did each other's makeup and by the time we were done, looked several years older and ready for something above our pay grade. If I had only known how true that was, I would have changed back into my capris and t-shirt.
"Let's go down to Lindsey's. My parents are in the rec room, I'll just yell down to them, they won't even see us, it'll be fine."
"Okay, but I don't want to go anywhere else."
"She lives three doors away. We go there and hangout and then we'll come back here. It'll be okay. Let loose and have some fun," she encouraged.
I had to admit, I felt somewhat liberated. Saucy and spicy as the slang around town was. We skipped our way to Lindsey's, arms linked, laughing all the way. Just as we got there Lindsey stepped outside, looking much like we did. "Selfie time!" She announced and suddenly I wasn't so sure about all this.
"Come on Tory, your dad won't know. It's not like we're going to send the pictures to him." She said.
But I knew that pictures had a way of surfacing in places you never expected, slipping their way through people and places. It wasn't just that my dad might see them, it's that this was pretend, but if other people saw them, they might not know that. I looked over at Lily, who was doing her best duck lips, all caught up in the moment, clearly I was the odd one out.
I had minimal choices. Leave and go home, interrupting my dad and his date while basically saying that my best friend is involved in something less than ideal. Or just go with it and hope for the best. In the end I caved to peer pressure, while have the feeling of a rock in my gut, because I knew somewhere deep down this wasn't going to end well.
I jumped in and smiled, flipped my hair around, but tried to stay away from any super sexy looks. However at this point did it really matter? "Don't put any of my pictures on social media or anywhere public," I told my friends.
"You are such a good girl, it's okay to be naughty once in a while." Lindsey told me.
"Her Dad's a cop, he is more plugged in than our parents," Lily defended.
Lindsey sighed in deep frustration and continued to snap away, until a SUV turned the corner, the music up so loud we practically vibrated off the sidewalk. I had no idea who this was, even when they screeched to a stop right in front of us.
"Hey bitches," Tessa yelled out, and she had to yell to be heard over the music. She climbed out from the passenger seat of the vehicle, dressed even more sensationally than we were.
"Whas' up girl," Lindsey said.
"You know riding around and such. My cousin has his daddy's vehicle for the night so we're cruisin'"
"Cool," Lindsey said, her head nodding up and down.
"Don't you all look like something. Tory, your Daddy let you dress like that?" Tessa asked, her dangling earrings swinging and getting tangled in her hair.
"Of course he doesn't," Lindsey replied, touching up her makeup as she stared into likeness on her phone.
"Going rogue girl, I like it. Hey why don't you all come for a ride," she offered.
"I don't know," Lily replied looking as uneasy as I felt. Why did this always seem to happen? I couldn't even get away from peer pressure on the weekend.
"Come on. We'll just go downtown and back. That's it." Tessa said. "We'll listen to some tunes. If anybody stops us Tory can drop her dad's name and it all be good."
"I don't think it works that way," I piped up, but Tessa had opened the back door to the SUV and I was drown out by the music.
Lindsey practically hurled herself into the car and after a moment of deliberation Lily shrugged and climbed inside. Now I was standing alone, my heart and head telling me I should just go home, but whatever was pulsating through my veins had me follow my friends.
I must say at first it was fun. I hadn't been in a car with just my peers, it was mostly Dad or Uncle Will or my friends and their parents. The music was loud, the air was blowing through the windows, there was an energy that felt right. We were wild and free. Or I was feeling wild, I think this was much more routine for Tessa and her cousin.
We drove through Logan Square, to Bucktown, then Lincoln Park and River North. Over to the West Loop. The building lights were dizzying or maybe it was whatever I had to drink that was being passed around the car. It tasted fruity and sweet. I don't think dropping my dad's name would get us anywhere if we were to get pulled over.
"Oh, wait, wait, wait," Tessa suddenly said as we were sitting at a stoplight. I was hoping she was going to say it was time to turn around and go back home. We had been driving for over an hour already and it was getting late. I didn't think my dad would track my phone, he pretty much trusted me, but what if he did and saw me downtown. I could tell him it was taken accidentally by someone who stopped by Lily's house or that I lost it and had no idea how it ended up down there, and I was lucky to get it back. The lies not yet told were already starting to pile up. Plus, I didn't feel exactly tipsy, but I knew I wasn't too far from it. And now Tessa was yelling to wait, and I had no idea for what.
"There's a pop-up night club near here. You know, Tito was telling me about it this week."
Was I the only one prepared to mention the fact that we were fourteen? "I got my ID on me," Lindsey spoke up.
ID? What the hell. Lindsey was fifteen, looked fifteen and with her makeup and dress possibly eighteen but twenty-one was a stretch.
"I got mine too," Tessa said, proudly waving her plastic card around.
If Lily rummaged through her purse and produced one, I decided I would just die there on the spot. But she didn't, and the nerd spotlight shown down harshly on both of us.
"We don't have fake ID's," Lily volunteered.
"Seriously? Oh, guess I'm not surprised really," Tessa said with disdain. "Well, this neighborhood is good. We'll let you off here and you can get an Uber."
"We can't get an Uber," I replied. "There's records, my dad will see the charge." Tessa sighed as if I was the worst thing to happen to her in her lifetime. "You said that we would ride around and go back home."
"Then take the blue line back home or find you some of them divvy bikes, I bet you got an account. You'll be fine. I forgot about this club and if we take you home it waste too much time. It'll be okay," she said looking over at us as if we had just materialized out of our own fruition.
"But you said," I tried again.
"I didn't make no promises. I said we'd ride around and come back but I didn't promise."
"Like your word would mean anything anyway," I mumbled as I got out of the car, Lily silently behind me.
We were barely out the door when the SUV roared off, among laughter and the thumping of bass.
"Well we have to go north and west, that's all I know." I said as we walked over to lean up against a building.
"I'm not sure I want to be on the L at this time of night. What time is anyway?" Lily asked pulling her phone out. "It's 10:30!" she exclaimed.
"Anything we use for Uber, the bikes or the L can be traced by our parents." I tell her.
"Mine won't look and I bet your Dad won't either."
"My accounts are connected to his. They'll notify him of where and what time I'm doing what I'm doing."
"It's hard being sneaky these days. It's not fair. When our parents were teenagers, there was no way to track them. I'll get an Uber and figure it out later."
"You can't, because if you get caught then I'll get caught." I proclaim.
"We can't walk, it's miles from here. So you'll get grounded, whatever."
"It's not that. I mean, yeah, I don't want to be grounded and have to do extra chores and stuff, but it's the look he gives me when I'm in trouble and I feel so guilty. I mean he works so hard and does so much for me, I just feel really bad disappointing him."
"You are such a good kid," Lily said shaking her head. "But I get it. I know last time, when that happened with Tessa, when he came to pick you up, he looked—I don't even know how to describe it. Sad, I guess. It kinda broke my heart a little bit."
"It's kind of like a "I raised you better than this" look. Like he blames himself for my shortcomings."
"Yeah, it is pretty pathetic or harsh. I'm not sure which." Lily concurs.
"See, plus I have no idea what we were drinking, and I can't get busted for that too."
"He doesn't expect you to be perfect. Does he?"
"I don't know."
"He doesn't. He loves you and if we don't get out of this then you tell him the truth, accept your punishment and move on. Maybe we should just get it over with and call him."
"What! No way. Besides he has a date tonight at our house, I can't interrupt that."
"Ooohhh, he's getting his groove on. Lucky lady."
"Not you too." I protest.
"Hey, your dad is fine, he's the only reason I became friends with you, so I could see him. I'm just kidding of course, but not completely. There was a little crushing going on there," she said holding her finger and thumb slightly apart.
"Well you don't want to see him pissed off, it isn't a good look for him. It's like his face is made of steel."
Lily looked like she was debating what I said and then sighed. "So what do we do? And I can't believe Tessa screwed us over again. Damn, just like last time."
"Don't remind me. Thank God my dad believed me when I said I didn't that didn't steal that bracelet."
"And he got the store owner to believe him when he said you didn't steal it."
"Having a favor owed to you by Chicago PD is a nice thing to have." I pointed out.
"Did you get into trouble for that? I can't remember."
"A long lecture and banished from being around Tessa, which adds to my list of wrongdoings," I groaned having just realized that part.
"So what are we going to do? And how come neither one of us has a cool cousin or brother that could pick us up on the down low? How about your Uncle Will?"
"He'd tell my dad."
"Damn."
"Let's find the L station. If the train pulls up and looks sketchy, we won't get on." Lily said as she pulled out her phone. "It says there is a station at West Lake and Ashland by Union Park."
"I don't want to go through the park."
"Tory, we have to do something. My parents are eventually going to notice we're still gone and then we'll be busted anyway."
"You're right," I tell her. "Let's go."
We walked several blocks, the night air getting cooler with each step. We had on lightweight clothing and if a patrol car saw us we'd probably be picked up for soliciting. Everything just kept adding up, my clothing, the makeup, not being at Lily's house where I said I'd be, being with Tessa and ending up downtown. And the drinking. I was so doomed. We'd take a look at the train and if that was a no go then I'd have to call my dad and own up to everything, then at least it'd be over.
"I swear I'm done with Tessa now. I shouldn't have trusted her." I tell Lily as we slowly tread in the direction of the park.
"Well she did try and steal that bracelet through you, so yeah she isn't particularly trustworthy."
"She said I wouldn't be profiled since I was white, that is how she defended herself."
"She may have been right, but it still wasn't cool to slip a bracelet into your pocket without you even knowing. And of course the alarm was going to pick up on it."
"Thanks for staying with me that day. For keeping me calm while I waited for my dad."
"I got your back. It was cool how he believed you immediately."
"I've always told him the truth and that's why part of me wants to do that now. I mean if I call him and explain, I'll be in trouble and he'll be pissed, but maybe he'll still trust me in the future."
"Yeah. I get it. Makes sense."
"But then I'd drag you into it all."
"My parents wouldn't be happy, but they don't have the same face your dad does of mortal disappointment, mine just look like they are constipated."
Despite myself I laughed. "I need to sit for a minute," I declare as I see a bench.
"Me too, my feet are killing me."
I just had flats on, but they were rubbing my heel raw. We sat down in and stayed silent for several minutes before we heard male voices heading our way. "Let's keep moving," I said standing up. Lily agreed and we stayed close together.
"Hey there ladies," one of the men who looked to be in their early twenties, cooed. "Where are you heading?"
"Home," Lily said firmly.
"It's early. Let's party," his companion in a green sweatshirt declared.
"No thanks," I said as we kept walking.
"You're no fun," the first one in a red shirt stated.
"Exactly," Lily replied, keeping her head down, cursing at the predicament we had gotten ourselves into.
We didn't turn around but got the sense the guys had moved on, but soon met another rowdy crowd of men who hooted and hollered but kept moving.
"What is going on around here? Where are these people are coming from?" I asked as Lily checked her phone.
"Great, there was a concert at Union Park tonight. That's probably where they've been."
"We can't walk through there."
"It might be fine. Lots of people around and many will be getting on the train."
"Well if those guys are any indication of what to expect then I should just call my dad." I said as I found his contact information and brought it up.
"Not yet." She said looking up the street. "Let's keep going and see what's happening by the park."
But we didn't get very far when another group, heavily intoxicated slowed down to check us out. We turned to go down another street, my phone in my hand, I was so nervous I hadn't even realized that I actually dialed my father's number.
"Oh shit," I whispered to my friend as I heard his voice call out "hello, Tory? Tory? Where are you?" he asked as a car flew by and more revelers were within earshot. I stepped aside to find a ledge to jump from or a hole that would swallow me as opposed to figuring out what to say, not that it mattered, even if I came up with some lie he would check out my location. Lily was right, it was impossible to be sneaky these days.
As I stood there tongue tied and my father's vocals still emanating from the phone I saw a college age guy get way too close to Lily and that's when I'd had enough. "Dad, I'm sorry, so, so sorry." I began when I realized he had hung up. I stood there staring at my blackened screen in disbelief. He's probably checking for my location I thought to myself, when suddenly my phone lit up and my dad's face glowed on the screen. "Dad. I'm sorry, so, so sorry," I repeated. "Lily and I are in the West Loop and there's a concert that ended and all these people and we need you to pick us up. We weren't at the concert, but—well it's a long story."
"Where are you?" He asked and I could hear him already in motion.
I looked around and thankfully, we were near an intersection. "Um, corner of West Washington and North Ada."
"I'm on my way, stay there if you can. If you can't let me know where you went. I'm keeping my phone on, so don't hang up."
"Okay," I said meekly as if my voice had left with any courage I had managed to muster. I hear the door opening and closing back at home, his feet hitting the stairs. I have no idea how long it will take him to get here.
Jay
When Tory called and hadn't said anything, my dad alert system went into overdrive. Admittedly I wasn't in the best position to be interrupted, but I always answered my phone when Tory was out. Before I checked for her location, I decided to call her back with hopes that she would answer and gratefully she did. Once in the truck I debated whether to hit I-90 or use surface streets. It was probably a toss-up between the two. I jumped on N. Western Ave and flew south, I even turned on my blue lights, I didn't need some patrol car stopping me. I made my way to West Lake and found North Ada and shot down to West Washington. I had been talking to Tory, telling her my progress, but never heard much other than an occasional terrified "okay."
I had been in this truck a multitude of times, more than I can ever count, racing to a scene, my heart pounding so hard my blood sounded like an ocean in my ears, but this time, this time the noise was so loud I kept cranking up the speakers so I could hear what was happening with my daughter. It took me back to when she was six and we had gotten separated during the Taste of Chicago. For over forty-five minutes, I had no idea where she was or what was happening to her. My attempts to stay calm were poor at best, as I had visions of her kidnapped and already on the road to another state. In the end, she had followed a young couple and their puppy through the crowd, until they noticed her and realized she was alone.
Now I focused on bits and pieces of the words that I was hearing over the phone as my foot leaned on the accelerator. I hear Tory yell out to Lily once or twice, so I knew they were together. I heard scuffling and "no thank-you's. and stop." Then the phone went dead and my heart nearly stopped.
Tory
The initial group that had scared us and had caused me to call my dad had moved on without too much of a problem, but there were two guys trailing them, a part of the group or separate we didn't know. But they stopped and eyed us greedily and all the things my father ever said came rushing back to me. "Don't be out late, nothing good happens late, dress appropriately, it's not fair, but that's how it is, know where you are and how to leave, and what options are open. And you can always call me; we can sort everything out later."
Oh how I wished I could see that face, stained in disappointment, here with me now, protecting me, keeping me safe. My phone had been in my hands, but they were shaking so badly it had kept slipping so I put it in my small purse. The two men, they had to be in their mid-twenties, bearded and boozed up, had been forcing us back to the building behind us. They would step forward and we would step back. Forward, back until Lily and I had our backs against the building. They were leaning in, telling us we were so sexy and that there was an alley nearby if we wanted to step around the corner for some fun.
I actually found my voice and told them we were fourteen, but they didn't even pause. Whether it was because they didn't believe me, they didn't care, or they thought it was a turn-on I didn't know. I looked over and saw the one's face next to Lily's and when I looked back, I found I was in the same situation. His breath mixing with mine. Then suddenly he was gone, ripped away like a Band-Aid.
The man with Lily took off running and the creep that had had me in his sights was now smashed up against the wall, face first, my dad the driving force. "You like harassing little girls huh? Get in the truck!" He yelled in our direction and Lily took off but I was frozen. "Now," he repeated, but I noticed he didn't use my name, as if he didn't want it hovering on the streets, floating in this man's ears. I backed away but was mesmerized. I imagined that this was as close as I'd ever see of him in cop action. As he pinned the man's arm behind his back, forcing it up painfully without hesitation, his mouth barking into his ear. I noticed his gun tucked into his waistband and I realized just how serious this had all become or had always been.
"They are kids, don't you get that? Even if they weren't, they were saying no! You had no right!" Dad said, in a voice and tone I didn't recognize. "What the hell his wrong with you?"
"Sorry, didn't know dude."
"I am not your dude. You do know better."
"I'm drunk."
"No excuse." Dad said shoving him harder into the brick façade. "You better analyze where your parents went wrong and figure it out. Give me your wallet," he demanded.
"What?"
"Your wallet!" Dad yelled.
"Okay. Okay," he replied, his voice as jittery as mine had been. "Here," he said holding it out as it cleared his back pocket.
Dad flipped it open with one hand and looked at it, then took his hand from the man's arm, where he had it pinned behind his back and took his phone from his pocket and took a picture of what I assumed was the man's license.
"Now I know who you are and if I hear or see anything that involves you, this night will come back to haunt you. Get your life straight, there is no second chance," Dad told him as he tossed his wallet down the street. The man scrambled after it and then ran off.
Dad watched him ago and then finally turned to see me standing there. "I told you to get in the truck."
"Sorry," I whispered. I wasn't sure what he would do next, I wanted him to hold me, hug me, tell me I was safe even though I knew I was. But he just stood there, looking as uncertain as I felt.
"Get in the truck," he repeated, and I finally complied.
He asked us both if we were okay and then remained silent the rest of the way. He didn't ask any details about the journey that brought us to our destination or for an explanation. Before we knew it, he had pulled up in front of Lily's house.
"Stay here," he told me as he opened the back door for Lily. "I'll be right back."
Jay and Lily walked to her front door where she had to dig for her key to unlock it. "I think my parents are in bed," she said quietly.
"Go wake them up," Jay instructed standing at the bottom of the stairs.
Lily did as she was told and moments later two, disheveled looking parents made their way downstairs.
"Jay?" Patti Cole asked with uncertainty. "What has happened? Is Tory alright?"
"She's in the truck. She called me, they were in the West Loop, dressed like this," he said motioning towards Lily, I smelled alcohol on both of them and they were being harassed by a couple of men. The rest I don't know yet, but we'll get together tomorrow to see if their stories match."
And then he turned and walked out leaving the family to digest what they had just heard.
I saw Dad come back out the door, he was rigid, unhappy, and of course he was. "I'm sorry Daddy," I said quietly. But he didn't respond. It took less than a minute to get home where I went upstairs ahead of him and waited for him to unlock the door. We went inside quietly, and I went into the kitchen to get a glass of water and immediately noticed his bedroom, now empty, but his bedding was all rumpled, a perfumey scent was still in the air, trails of femininity still snaking their way around the house. I imagine he left her behind and she cleaned up and disappeared while he was busy saving Lily and me. I had definitely ruined his evening, the evenings he so rarely got.
He wouldn't say much, just asked me again if I was okay. His gaze wasn't harsh, but I felt it prickle all the same. He told me to go to bed and we would talk in the morning.
Jay
My head was pounding and now that my adrenaline had slackened, I found that I was exhausted. I shed my clothes and climbed into the tangle of sheets and blankets that I had left behind. My date for the evening, Stephanie, knew of Tory and understood why I had answered the phone and acted immediately, but I also didn't think my chances of getting back together with her again were likely. I had barely acknowledged her when I took off and if she had left a note behind I didn't see it. Did people even do that anymore? Maybe she would text, maybe she wouldn't.
Despite my fatigue, I couldn't sleep. I wasn't surprised. All the what-if's ran through my brain. I had been witness to many situations like the one Tory and Lily had found themselves in, but they didn't have a dad to call to rescue them and we found them too late or in time, but broken beyond repair. I wanted to call it in, attempted assault, harassment, but I knew it wouldn't stick. I would look this individual up when I was at work Monday morning. I wanted to believe that they would have given up and moved on if I hadn't shown up. Or been pushed away by another crowd coming down the street. But I had no idea what would have ended up happening without my assistance and neither do the girls.
When I had gotten to the intersection I had my head on a swivel, looking for them, uncertain if they had moved. But they were right there. I couldn't even see the girls, just the backs of men, too big and too old to be doing what they were doing. Unfortunately, not at all uncommon either. I jumped out barely putting the truck in park. I already had the gun in my waistband from when I left the house, not evening feeling its discomfort during the ride. Once outside the truck I closed the gap in mere seconds and just grabbed the first guy I saw to find Tory shrugged up against the wall, her tear-stained face terrified. The guy was unsteady on his feet and easy to control. I had undoubtedly surprised him and he had no fight in him. It took everything I had to stay in control and not beat the crap out of him. However, I had to manage my emotions for the sake of everyone involved. When I turned around and saw Tory standing there, I was glad that I had remained disciplined—at least to a degree.
On the way home I had tried to understand what happened and it wasn't hard to put together. They played dress-up, somehow ended up downtown and found time to drink. I didn't know the details. I wasn't ready to process them at that point as it took all my focus to steady my nerves and heart rate. Once I was assured they were okay, I shut down for self-preservation. Besides I remember back when I was a kid when my mother's silence made the biggest impact.
I had always trusted my daughter and she had never given me any reason not to—until tonight.
Tory
I headed to the bathroom when Dad told me to go to bed. I stared at my reflection in the mirror and then looked down at my clothing and found myself so embarrassed. I can't imagine what he was thinking of me right now. How ashamed he must be of me. I had done so many things wrong. Why hadn't I just insisted on going back to Lily's or even home? I could have sat outside the house or just texted and said I didn't feel well. Or even gone to one of the cafes in the neighborhood and killed time. So many options that I chose to ignore.
I scrubbed my face as much as I could and shed my clothes, choosing some shorts and one of dad's old t-shirts for bed. Then I lay there thinking and thinking some more. How could Dad ever trust me again? Easy, he couldn't, he wouldn't, and I guess he shouldn't.
I thought back to when I was little and how he would act so captivated with our activities, things I wanted to do. I remember him drawing a line around my body in chalk as I lay on the sidewalk because I wanted to see how big I was. Then allowing me to do the same to him. Evening walks. Ice cream treats. Swinging me above the waves at Oak Street Beach. Making funny faces with me at the Bean. So many things, so often, even though he had to be exhausted. And then I go and do this. My mom abandons us and he doesn't miss a beat and I screw up so badly. I shatter his trust, our relationship, everything.
I had brushed my teeth and used mouthwash but could still taste the fruity substance as if it wouldn't leave me, sticking around to remind me of all my sins. It would be easy to blame Tessa, but I made my own choices and now not only did I have to live with them but so did my dad.
Watching him in action had my emotions so scattered I didn't know how to connect them. He had been so in control, so forceful. It was thrilling, enthralling, terrifying. He shouldn't have had to be there. What if that guy had a gun? Seeing my dad's gun, not in his holster, not being put away in the lockbox made it so real, dangerous. It was as if I saw something I wasn't supposed to and now I couldn't put it back in the box. I know he had been shot and the danger was always real, but somehow tonight had expanded the tight reaches I had put it into.
His silence tonight cut deeply, and I suppose that was point. I turned over on my side just as a tear slid down my face.
To be continued...