Chapter 8
"What do you mean, something's wrong with Jessica'? " Dan demanded, his suitcase still clutched in his grip as his wife met him at the door. "Why didn't you call me?" His face was masked with rage as he smelled the reek of liquor on Marie's breath.
"I couldn't remember where you said you would be staying," the blousy blonde explained flimsily.
"Damn it, Marie, I told you there was a full itinerary on my desk!" he bellowed angrily. "Now ... what's wrong with Jessica? Tell me ... right now!" He could feel the sheer fury of his own rage and disgust rising in the pit of his belly as he faced this fleshy parody of the woman he had loved and married ... If she's let anything happen to my little Jessica, I'll break her fat, booze-soaked neck!
"Oh, don't get your nose out of joint, buster," Marie mumbled, heading for the kitchen and another belt of whiskey. "I just meant she's been acting sorta' funny ... Real quiet all the time and she just stays in her room when she's not at school."
"Didn't you ask her what was bothering her?"
"Sure ... but she wouldn't tell me."
Dan laughed once. "Yeah ... and I'll bet you really handled it well. How did you ask her?"
"What'ya mean ... I just asked her, that's all?" Marie shot back, standing in the hallway in her housecoat with one hand on her fleshy hip.
"Oh, fuck you, Marie ... where is she? In her room?"
Marie waved him away with the back of her hand. "Yeah ... she's up there sulking about something. You run to your precious Jessica ... and I'll be at Clarissa's."
"You're sister's house? For how long?"
Marie screwed her face up at her husband. "Not for good, Buster, if that's what you're getting at. Me and Clarissa are working on something for her garden club."
"What? An outdoor bar? A wine rack for the garden?"
Marie slammed the kitchen door. "Aw, go to hell!"
Dan paused outside his daughter's room a long time, listening to the music she was playing on her record player. It was sad and soulful music, not the upbeat sort of thing the bubbly fourteen-year-old usually chose. He was certain something was wrong, but it was even more than Marie might have guessed. He knew he'd have to face this moment when he came home, and he hated himself for even suspecting that Jessica might have confided in her mother ... or that Marie was still capable of the kind of feeling a young girl needed at a time like this.
"I know what's wrong, Jessica ... and it's my fault for not dealing with this sooner, but I just didn't know what to say. What to do! I'm sorry, baby ... I've let you down when you really need a friend!"
He turned the knob slowly and let the door swing open. She was lying on her bed, dressed in a cotton flower-print nightgown that made her look like a little girl.
"Jessica ... it's me, Daddy. About the other night ... we need to have a talk and...."
She lifted her head and her eyes suddenly flooded with tears. Leaping from the bed, she raced to him on her bare feet.
"Oh, Daddy ... Daddy! I'm so ashamed! I've been awful, Daddy! Just awful!"