It takes me an hour to get through the screening before I can see Daddy. I sit waiting behind a thick wall of glass when I see him walk in the room. He looks terrible. He’s rail-thin and his hair has gotten so gray. That hideous jumpsuit isn’t helping. Orange is definitely not his color.
“How’s my Foxy?” He says with a smile, sitting down and putting his phone to his ear so we can hear each other. Looking at me, his smile disappears and his expression turns serious. “Foxy, what’s the matter?” I shrug. “You can’t hide it from your old man. What made you so upset?”
“Besides seeing you in here? Nothing. I just miss having you home. I can’t wait until you can leave this place.”
I look around him at the men in orange jumpsuits all talking on phones. You can tell most of them have been in for a while. They’re huge, covered in tattoos, with expressions that dare you to say anything to them.
“That’s easier said than done, pumpkin.”
“Are you giving up?”
“I’m trying not to but being in here all day leaves me with nothing to do but think. I’ve been talking with your mother and I think you should take her up on her offer to move up there with her.”
“She’s such a bitch. I told her not to bring that up. I can’t believe she called you just so she could have her way. Did she guilt trip you? Like you already don’t have enough to worry about. God, she’s so selfish.”
“Hey, leave your mother alone, okay. She’s right, and I’m glad she’s concerned about you. This trial is going to be hard, and there’s no guarantee that I’ll make it back out again. I could be looking at a lot of years.” I hate that look in his eyes because I know what he’s silently saying. I’m just not ready to face it yet. I just can’t give up hope that he’ll somehow walk out of here and come back home again. “Move up there with Mom and get a fresh start.”
“No way,” I tell him. How could he even think I could leave him now? He’d be all alone with no one to look out for him, with no one to fight for him. “There’s no way I’m leaving you like this and I don’t want to hear it anymore.”
I’m about to start crying and that pisses me off because I hate crying.
“All right, Foxy, all right. I’m not throwing in the towel just yet. Hell, I’ve been knocked down worse than this. I just worry about you all alone. I worry about how you’re getting by. I can’t stand not being able to protect you. Is that detective still asking you questions?”
“Every chance he gets.”
“Don’t tell him a damn thing. Don’t talk to him at all. He’ll just twist everything around.”
“I know. I know. Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.” I lie to him.
“How’re we doing on money? I hope you didn’t put anything on my books?”
“Twenty bucks and can you please not spend it on noodles and candy bars. You still have to control your blood sugar in here.”
“It’s not like I have a lot of food to choose from, baby girl.”
“Don’t they know you’re diabetic?”
“They don’t care.” He laughs. “Don’t worry about me. Focus on you having enough money to live on.”
“I’m working a lot at the restaurant.”
“You shouldn’t be working. You should be out living it up, spending all my money. My plans for us have all gone to shit. We were supposed to be on a yacht in Cancun right now.”
“I hate the water and I don’t mind working.” I lie again. I hate everything about my job. “The pay’s good and at least I get to eat for free.”
“That doesn’t put my mind at ease with me being locked away in here. I’m supposed to be the one taking care of you.”
“Please, don’t worry. I’d tell you if something was wrong.” I lie for the third time. I don’t think I’ve ever lied this much to him in one day. “If he knew what his little girl was planning to do in just a few hours, that would be the end of him. “I’ll put more money on your books so you can get some real food.”
“Listen to me.” His voice is straining and I can’t tell if it’s from pain or if he’s trying to hold his emotions in check. He glances up at the camera behind me and I know whatever he was going to say is over now. “I don’t need that much in here and if you don’t want to stay with your mother, that’s fine. I know you two are like oil and water, but she’s right about one thing. You can’t let what’s happening to me stop you from going to school. Get your education and focus on your future. You let me worry about me. I can fight my own battles.”
How can he say that? This place is crap. He can’t fight for himself being locked away in here.
“Time’s up,” a big burly guard says, coming up behind him.
“Yeah,” Daddy says to him before smiling at me.
“I’ll see you soon.” I whisper, pressing my hand against the glass between us that’s already dirty from other people’s handprints. He does the same before hanging up the phone. I watch as the guard walks him out. He takes one last look at me before he disappears behind the door.
I rush out of the visiting room and to the parking lot, taking a deep breath of fresh air, feeling guilty that I can do that when he can’t. I hope that I can make this all go away and it will just be an awful memory we laugh about
