Going to see Dad
Leave me alone.
I’m always alone.
I’m always exhausted.
I can’t be exhausted.
I have too much to do.
Why am I having these damn thoughts again?
Dara Rue gassed her red mini-Cooper so that it made the hard-left turn onto the private roadway to her father’s home. The car lurched forward but then settled into the steep climb towards the house. Palm trees and azaleas decorated the private drive; Dara didn’t see them. She’d taken this drive umpteen times. Without realizing it, she was turning the wheel as the path snaked up toward Donovan Rue’s home.
Maybe Dad can help me.
Dara wanted relief, but she knew it was hard to attain. Racing thoughts were her constant companions, ones she didn’t seek out or encourage to hang around. They were her curse in life.
Just like I’m the curse in Dad’s life. He can’t get away from me. I can’t leave him alone. I’m a curse.
Twisting and turning around the long road up to the mansion, Dara’s thoughts wandered back to when she was a toddler.
Sneaking down the stairs, Dara knew that Mommy would be angry that she’d gotten out of bed again. But the voices were getting louder and louder. Daddy was finally home; Mommy was mad again. It was like this all the time now.
“Is it true, Mandy?”
“What do you think?”
“Can’t you just answer me for once?”
Dara snuck into the kitchen, hiding from her parents on the other side of the stone-covered island wall. As she heard her mother begin to shriek, Dara placed her first two fingers inside her mouth and began to suck hard on them. Mommy wouldn’t like that either.
“Ok, here’s my answer.” Something was placed hard onto the countertop. “I’m stuck here all the time with that brat!”
“Dara is NOT a brat.”
“You don’t know nothing. The kid cries at everything. She doesn’t look people in the eye! She wanders around sucking her fingers – it’s disgusting! I went out with Alexis to the mall and people will stop and comment on her little girl – ‘oh, isn’t she so cute?’ But my child shrinks back into her stroller, sucks her fingers, and gives them the worst look. She’s weird, Donovan!”
Hearing the disparaging words, Dara sucked harder on her fingers. She’d shrunk down next to the hard stone, trying to curl up into a ball and disappear.
“We could take her to a doctor,” Donovan’s soft voice said. “Maybe she needs some help.”
“Help! What kind of help can a 3-year-old get? She’s got all the toys, the clothes, the attention any kid could want! She’s just weird.”
“Anyway?”
“And you are never home!” The sound grew in volume again. “I’m here all the time with the brat, and you are never here.”
“You knew this was going to be my life when you married me.”
“To be stuck inside this house? With a kid? No, I did not!”
“What were you expecting?” A long pause followed that question, the air still fraught with tension. “You knew that Dad wanted me to come into the business. You can see how hard he works at it, how he expects me to learn about it while shadowing him.”
“You go to way too many functions without me!” came the accusation.
Donovan shifted to the end of the island, a move seen by the balled-up child who was still wishing she was anywhere else.
“I heard that you were sleeping with Demetrius Evans.”
Mandy picked up her glass and then set it down on the counter.
“Where’d you hear that? Who said?”
“I want to know if it’s true.”
Another beat of silence.
“Someone told me that you and he were together a lot at the last event I took you to. That you wandered off to one of the hotel’s rooms while I was speaking. Is that true?!”
Mandy still didn’t answer. Dara’s heart raced. She didn’t know why Daddy could be so angry that Mommy was sleeping. Weren’t they always telling her to go to sleep?
“Demetrius is a nice guy.”
“IS THAT A YES?!” Donovan’s voice exploded with anger. This time the three-year-old could not contain her fear. A loud whimper escaped her finger-filled mouth. Tears began to fall.
Both parents peered around the side of the island, seeing their daughter in her pink frilly nightgown and fluffy slippers, hunched up, two fingers of her right hand tucked into her mouth. Donovan reached down to scoop her up, quickly rubbing her back, saying, “Shhhh. Shhh, sweetie. It’ll be ok.”
“That’s easy for you to say!” Now Dara noticed her mother’s dark anger-filled eyes. “You aren’t here when she cries! You aren’t here when she sneaks downstairs because she won’t go to sleep! You aren’t here! You are gone all the time, Donovan.”
“I’m working.” Donovan realized that his little girl was now shaking. He tried to lower his voice and continued to rub her small back. “I’m giving you the lifestyle that you wanted and making a future for our daughter.”
“Some future . . .”
Donovan’s soft circles felt nice to Dara. She placed her head on his shoulder but didn’t release the fingers from her mouth.
“So? Did you sleep with this asshole?”
Mandy shot him a mean look. “’This asshole’ is making your company a ton of money,” she answered and then grinned. “And, yes, I did.”
If she thought she could wound Donovan by being honest, she was right. He felt the swift pain in his chest as soon as she admitted it. The circles gentled, Dara’s eyes shutting with pleasure.
“Happy now?” taunted Mandy.
Donovan shook his head, barely keeping control. But he didn’t want to upset the nearly asleep child in his arms, so his voice stayed quiet.
“Hardly,” he replied.
Dara accelerated, urging the car up the steep driveway, remembering that night long ago. There weren’t any tears. She barely remembered her mother leaving, or the divorce that quickly followed. As time went by, she realized that she didn’t have a mother any more. A string of women came to be a nanny to her, some good, some bad. Donovan was more present in her life following that night, but his work did demand a lot of time away from home. Although there were rebellious times, she grew to depend on him more and more.
And I need him tonight.
Entering the foyer, Dara noted again that the house was very clean and neat, smelled like the azaleas that lined the driveway, and that soft light was coming from the living room. She wandered in, and started to throw her purse down on the couch, but stopped herself as the sleeping woman came into view.
Very short blond hair. Legs curled up into a fetal position. Arms tucked close to her body. Hands tucked under her chin. A white woman. In completely deep sleep.
A white woman?
Dara continued gazing at the site, all sorts of ideas bombarding her already overworked brain.
A thief? No, dressed too casually. An obsessed fan? No, no one knows about this house. A date? A DATE?! Dad can’t be dating! He never takes women out anymore!
And she’s WHITE!
Just then she heard the garage door opening, alerting her that her father was going to enter through the kitchen door. Purse and keys in hand, Dara met her father in his kitchen. He smiled as he entered, not at all surprised that she was there.
“Hey!”
Placing the bags on the counter, he reached for two glasses, filled them with water. Then he turned to give Dara his full attention, handing her a glass.
“This is a pleasant surprise! What brings you here tonight?”
“So, who the hell is she?” Dara’s voice was loud, angry.
“Lynn,” Donovan replied softly. “Keep your voice down, Dara.”
“Who the hell is this Lynn?” Dara’s voice continued to grow louder.
Donovan set a glass on the island countertop, trying to think of how to reply.
Dara was impatient, couldn’t wait for his reply.
“I come here to see YOU, walk into YOUR house and find this white woman sleeping on YOUR couch. I almost called the cops.”
Donovan’s voice kept its steady patient tone. “I told you about Lynn. I told you that I was seeing a very lovely woman. She just happens to be here tonight.” He shifted from foot to foot, anxious with his daughter’s sudden assault. “I wasn’t expecting you,” he added.
“Oh! So now I can’t even drop by to see my father.” Dara paused only to draw breath. “This white woman matters more to you than your daughter,” she accused.
“This person means a lot to me, Dara,” he was almost whispering. “More than anyone else has meant to me in a long time.” There was a pause, “You will always mean a lot to me because you are my daughter. You know that.”
A very quiet, still-sleepy voice came from the kitchen doorway.
“Hello. I’m Lynn, the White Woman that your father is seeing.”
Donovan’s hard laugh filled the entire kitchen, its sound grating to Dara who stood there eyeing the intruder. Big- no huge- blue eyes the color of ocean waves. Very short blond hair. Not tall, but not petite either. About her dad’s age, she guessed. Wearing clothes suitable for a middle-aged woman. Her face was calm, welcoming, and not upset by what she was witnessing in the kitchen.
Taking Lynn’s hand, Donovan made the introductions. “Dara, this is Lynn Cerami. Lynn, this is my daughter, Dara Rue.”
Lynn extended her hand in greeting. Dara looked at it angrily but didn’t take it, and then said, “I gotta get going. Need to finish something for a client.”
Pulling her purse over her shoulder, she swept past Donovan and Lynn to get to the front door.