Don't Let Those Familial Ties Stand In The Way

My father learned well from his own mistakes—not from the mistakes of others. I remember riding in the car with him at the ages of eight, nine, ten, eleven, and he would point out his mistakes to me.1

“Don’t speed here,” he would motion at the church we were passing by, “Cops like to hide behind the trees.”2

Once, when I was twelve, he hit a little girl who swerved out into the road on her bike. He slammed on the breaks, and she wasn’t hurt beyond a scraped leg. He pulled the car over, and sat for a moment, hyperventilating. The girl ran screaming from the road, and back to her house. He left me in the car and went to check on her. The cops came. They asked me some questions, and I started crying uncontrollably, though I wasn’t sure why. 3

After that day, he always slowed to ten miles under the speed limit as we passed that house, even after the family had moved away. 4

“Don’t speed here,” he would motion at her house, “Little girls like to ride their bikes into the road.”5

--6

I learned well from my own mistakes—not from the mistakes of my father. This seemed to frustrate him greatly. When I went to college at sixteen, he warned me sternly as to the ways of men. Since I was still a minor, he forbade me to date. He told me men would get me pregnant and ruin my life. He told me about the diseases that you could get.7

“I have to take pills for the rest of my life,” he told me, “Don’t date until you’re out of school.”8

I took this with a grain of salt.9

One night, the night of my seventeenth birthday, my dad called me in my dorm. He told me that he’d hired a private investigator, and knew that I’d been sleeping at someone else’s apartment. Two hours later, he had made the long drive from home and picked me up at my dorm. We drove home. I was angry at first, and threatened to file for emancipation, but the heat passed. I got a job at Wal-Mart, and resigned myself to being my father’s child for one more year. After all, I was still in school. Someday, I knew, my name would be in respected psychology journals; they would praise my contributions to the field. My father wasn’t so sure, but I knew I was going places. 10

--11

Kory, on the other hand, was not going places. He was a good-looking man of thirty-three, a youth minister, a husband, a father of two, a Customer Service Manager at Wal-Mart (for seven years, now), and unfortunately, he also had a problem with flirting with the young cashiers. He liked their bashful smiles (he saw them so infrequently from his wife, anymore), their excitement to see him (it almost matched his own excitement), their constant flattery and attention. He liked it when they noticed his new haircut, or the shirt he’d just purchased. He liked to talk to them about school and the boys they were dating. 12

When I first met Kory, I liked him. I thought he was sweet, and sort of shy. I liked the way he never quite met my eye when I talked to him. When I first found out that he carried on with girls half his age, I was appalled. But the heat, as it always does, passed. 13

--14

“We were talking about your shoes,” Kory told me, “Me and Lisa. We both think they’re cute.”15

“Aww, thanks, Kory,” I said, and toed his own shoe with my praised one, “When do you get off?”16

“Nine, same as you.”17

“Could you do me the biggest favor in the world?” I asked, eyelashes batting.18

He laughed, “What?”19

“Could you let me off the register just a little bit early? My Dad likes me home early, but I need to buy some stuff before I leave.”20

“Oh, come on now—“21

“Pleeeease, Kory?”22

“Alright, alright, but only because it’s slow tonight.”23

I clapped my hands together and hugged him, only for a moment. More than a moment wouldn’t do. “Thank you Kory, you’re my favorite.”24

He smiled and ran off to attend to his duties.25

--26

I sat under the glowing Wal-Mart sign smoking a Camel light, holding my bag of purchases (a few new bras, a few matching panties). I hoped Kory wouldn’t appear; I didn’t think he’d approve of my habit. But a moment later, there he was, and of course, he saw me, and of course, he stopped.27

“Since when do you smoke, young lady?”28

“I don’t smoke!” I said with feigned indignance, and took another drag. 29

“God, that’s so bad for you! If you don’t stop on your own, I’ll make you.”30

“You’ll make me?”31

“Yes, I will.” He grabbed the smoking butt from my hand before I could react, and held it above his head as I tried vainly to retrieve it. My body bumped against his as my arm stretched skyward toward the tobacco. I flushed, and stopped reaching. Instead, I reached into my pocket for another cigarette. Kory sighed. 32

“I don’t want you to die, that’s all,” he said, throwing the remains of the cigarette on the ground, “I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”33

“No, I’m not working tomorrow night. I have a date with David.”34

“Oh, really?”35

“Yes, we’re going to a movie. See, I bought new underwear!” I said smiling and raising the bag.36

He laughed. “Well, I’ll see you Sunday, then?”37

“Yes,” I said, and smiled at him through the smoke.38

--39

That night, I thought of him and touched myself. I dreamt fleeting, uncomfortable, roaring dreams that woke me three times.40

--41

David and I sat outside the movie theatre talking and smoking flavored cigarettes. 42

“You don’t believe in God?” I asked him.43

“No, man, no…” he said in that dreamy voice.44

“Well, then how did we get here?” 45

“Chaos, man, we came out of chaos.”46

“I don’t know. This is a pretty complex world to come out of chaos,” I said skeptically.47

“No, see, we don’t know. Like, this could be chaos, and we don’t know. We don’t have anything to compare it to. Like, we might think it’s order, but how do we know? Like…yeah, man…”48

I didn’t reply.49

“It’s like,” he continued, gesturing largely with his cigarette, “Why does there have to be a creator?”50

“Because…we had to have started somewhere.”51

“No, man,” he said, “The universe goes on forever, right?”52

“I suppose…”53

“Then why couldn’t it have been going on forever?”54

“But if there is no God, then why are we here? What’s the point of life?”55

“Happiness, man. To be happy, and to make other people happy.”56

I didn’t reply.57

“I don’t know,” I said finally, “You’re hurting my head.” I lit another cigarette, and mused over what he has said. It made a sort of sense. I liked his beliefs. I liked him.58

He laughed. “It’s cool, it’s cool.”59

I glanced at my watch. “David, I have to go home.”60

“No, seriously?”61

“Yeah, I do. My dad, you know.”62

“Oh, right, yeah. That’s cool.”63

We stood awkwardly for a moment. I knew he wanted to kiss me. At least, I hoped he wanted to kiss me. I looked up at him from under my painted lashes. I looked pretty. I had on a new blue blouse, cut low in the front. I had my new underwear on beneath it. He needed to kiss me; otherwise it was all wasted. 64

But he made no move. I sighed and started to unlock my car door. He took my face in his hands, and put my lips to his. He was too rough, his tongue too active, and his hands roamed too much. But I liked it, so I let him. I went down on him in my back seat, and then I went home.65

--66

The other girls were whispering about Kory and me. I knew they were. I could here them; I could see it in their eyes. They avoided me during breaks. They barely spoke to me when we switched out at the registers. They were jealous of him and I. They way he looked at me. The way he talked to me. The way he walked me to the time clock, or walked me to my car. They were all very jealous.67

--68

Again, I sat outside, under the glowing Wal-Mart sign, and Kory approached me. 69

“So, how was your date?”70

“Oh, it was fine.”71

“Did he kiss you?”72

I was taken aback, and giggled nervously. “Yeah…he did.”73

He smiled. “That’s sweet.”74

“Yeah, it was nice. We’re going to see each other again this weekend.”75

“Well, slow down, now. Don’t start setting the date, or anything,” he laughed.76

“Shut up, Kory.”77

He touched my arm.78

--79

Dad asked me how work was. I told him it was fine. I went to bed.80

--81

A month and a half later, David and I were officially “together,” against Kory’s advice. He told me that David (who was also a cashier) was a slacker, that he would only hold me back. He told me that he was a pothead (which I already knew). He told me that I needed someone better. 82

But I liked David. I liked his ideas. I liked his poems, which were disconnected, random, but somehow quite beautiful. He told me he loved me one night, as he held me naked in his arms. I told him I loved him too.83

--84

“You should come to the car show with me,” Kory told me.85

“When is it?”86

“Saturday night.”87

“I’m seeing David.”88

He rolled his eyes. “That little punk?”89

I hit his arm. “That little punk is my boyfriend, Kory.”90

“You kids, today,” he sight, “You never listen to your elders. Come to the car show with me. It’ll be fun. I’ll buy you Taco Bell.”91

“I’m there.”92

--93

We went to the car show together, and then we got Taco Bell. Kory asked me about school, and what I wanted to do when I got out. I told him that I wanted to go to grad school in psychology, and then become a great researcher, and have my name in journals, and be famous.94

“Why?”95

“Because…I just do.”96

“But what about a family?”97

“I can worry about that later,” I heard my father’s voice say.98

“What about David? Won’t he miss you when you move away?”99

“That’s not for another year…”100

“You don’t think it’ll last?”101

“No, I just think we can work through that when we come to it.”102

“So you think you’ll still be with him?”103

“Yes, I love him.”104

“How long have you been dating?” 105

“Four months.”106

“Wow.”107

We finished eating and went back out to his car. He didn’t put it into gear, but instead turned on the radio. I lit a cigarette, and he glared at me, but didn’t protest. 108

“Do you like me?” he asked.109

I blushed, and didn’t answer.110

“It’s okay if you do,” he said.111

I blushed harder, but nodded slightly. He took my face in his hands and pulled it toward his. I refused to meet his eyes.112

“Do you like me more than David?”113

“David’s so young…” I said, “and he’s not a Christian.”114

He kissed me then. It felt good, but guiltily so. I thought we should stop, but he didn’t seem ashamed. So I kissed him back. 115

The sex was far better than anything I’d ever had with David.116

--117

“Why did you make Cs in half your courses this semester?” Dad asked me.118

“I dunno, I guess it’s having a job and doing school at the same time.”119

“Maybe you should quit.”120

“No--I need the money.”121

“Maybe if you weren’t buying new clothes every week you wouldn’t need so much extra money.”122

“Dad!”123

“Your grades come first.”124

“I’ll bring them up.”125

“You’d better.”126

But it wasn’t work. I hadn’t had my period in two months. I was getting worried.127

--128

“David…” I began, “We need to talk.”129

“What is it?” he asked concernedly. We were sitting in the back of his car, behind the movie theater. My head was in his lap. He was stroking my hair. I hated to ruin the moment.130

“I’m pregnant.”131

His hand froze on my head.132

“What? But we were always safe.”133

But Kory and I weren’t…134

“I know, but these things aren’t foolproof. I’m pregnant,” I repeated.135

“Well…what are we going to do?”136

“I…I don’t know. I guess I’ll have to quit school and work full time and save up. I can’t finish school with a baby.”137

We sat in silence.138

“David?”139

“What?”140

“Are you going to be with me through this?”141

He sighed and ran his hand through his hair like he did when he was nervous.142

“Of course, baby. This happened to my brother and his wife, and they’re fine. And my friend Jeremy too. And Tyler…and they’re all doing fine. We can do this…it’s just…a lot to digest right now. I didn’t see it coming.”143

“I know…I’m sorry…” I felt tears. I didn’t stop them. He wiped them away, and told me it wasn’t my fault, and told me it would be okay.144

--145

My father didn’t come to the wedding. I turned eighteen a month before the ceremony, so I didn’t need his consent, and I certainly didn’t have it. Kory did come, though. And a few months later, when the baby was born, he came to see it too. He knew he was the father, but I was certain that neither of us would ever acknowledge it out loud. 146

The next months were much happier than I had expected. Our baby, David Eric, was the most radiant child ever born. He smiled all the time, he laughed with ease, and he loved his mama. That child became my entire life. He was more important to both David and I than any piece of paper from a stuffy university. 147

Then one afternoon, my baby was dead. David was at work, and I went into little Davie’s room to wake him from a suspiciously long nap, and he was cold. My hand froze on his tiny body. Hesitantly, I shook him, but there was no response. My hand recoiled. I walked unsteadily out of the room. I was confused—I didn’t know what possibly could have happened. I sat down in the hallway. I don’t know how long I was there before David came home and found me. 148

We cried.  149

The doctors told me it was “sudden infant death syndrome,” but when I asked them what exactly that was, they didn’t know. They said that it occurred a lot, maybe one baby out of every two thousand, and that it wasn’t our fault, that we couldn’t have done anything to prevent it. I don’t know if I believed them.150

---151

That night, David left me to go pick up some food. I decided to call Kory. I dialed his house and prayed that his wife wouldn’t answer.152

“Hello?” said a child’s voice.153

“Hi,” I managed to say, “Is your daddy home?”154

“Who is this?”155

“It’s a friend from work. Lindsey.”156

“Hold on.”157

I heard the receiver being put down, and little footsteps running to fetch Daddy. Tears welled, stinging my already raw eyes. The receiver was picked up again.158

“Lindsey?” said a voice, “What’s up? Why are you calling me here?”159

“Thanks for the hello, Kory,” I said between sniffs.160

“What’s wrong?”161

“Davie’s dead.”162

There was a pause.163

“Kory?”164

“Yeah, I’m here, I’m sorry,” he said finally, and trailed off. 165

“You sound really broken up about it.”166

“Well, what am I supposed to say?”167

I felt the heat growing in my cheeks. “He was yours too, you know. You could at least be a little fucking upset!” I screamed at him, and slammed down the receiver. I sobbed until I had no energy left to sob, and then I sat until David got home with the food. We nibbled, but for some reason, neither of us was hungry.168

---169

We had a funeral for him that same week. The little casket was almost too much to take. My mom was there, and surprisingly, my dad was as well.170

“I guess you can go back to school. I mean, now that—” he began, but I cut in,171

“Stop.” I stared at him for a moment, then, “How dare you.”172

I left, with David in toe. The crying, which I had finally gotten under control, started again. David held me, and told me not to pay any attention, not to be hurt. 173

“That—bastard,” I said, between sobs. 174

“I know, baby. I know,” he said, rubbing my back.175

“That fucking bastard….”176

---177

But I did go back to school. After weeks spent sitting in an empty house, I knew that school was the only thing to keep my mind off Davie. I enrolled for the spring semester, and within the month, I was buried in textbooks and papers. It eased the pain from Davie, but it made things rough for David and I. With him working and me going to school, we hardly ever saw one another, and when we did, we fought. So I worked harder.178

It took a year and a half to finish my degree. I had decided by this time that it was not my calling to do research in a cramped office for the rest of my days, and listen to students beg me to change their grades. I wanted to counsel. I wanted to help people. People who had lost children, people who had lost spouses, people who had lost everything including their sanity—I wanted to help them all. 179

My professors tried to dissuade me from applying for their PhD program. They said it looked bad to grad school at your undergraduate institution, but I didn’t want to leave. So they shrugged their shoulders, shook their heads, and accepted my highly qualified ass into the doctorate program.180

---181

Five grueling years later, I sat with the other new psychology doctors in the auditorium, and waited for my name to be called. Dr. Barron, my advisor, was waiting on stage to hood me. The situation hadn’t quite hit me yet. It still seemed surreal. The excitement, the overwhelming excitement that I had expected to feel on this day wasn’t present. 182

As long boring speeches were made, I turned around in my seat to look for David and my parents. I found David quickly, and he blew me a kiss. I finally spotted my parents in a corner of the auditorium. Mom waved excitedly, and Dad forced a smile. I turned back around my seat. Was he possibly still disappointed in me? After all of this? I had done it. I had gotten my doctorate. My dissertation, “A Cross-Cultural Examination of Adolescent Self-Esteem Instability,” had been defended, and five copies sat on my desk, to be distributed at my leisure. I had accomplished what he said I never would—and still he had to force a smile? I fought tears.183

The ceremony was solemn and meaningful. I was hooded, and everyone cheered. I heard David above everyone else. From somewhere deep within me, relief flooded my entire body as I realized that I had done it. I was finished. 184

And then it was over. Professors congratulated me, and my fellow graduates hugged my neck and said things like “Can you believe we’re fucking out of here?” Then I went outside the auditorium where David and my parents were waiting. My mom gave me a huge hug. David gave me roses and a gorgeous new necklace. I wished he’d saved that for later. I knew my Dad would do nothing but gripe about it later on the drive home with Mom. Mom hugged me again and told me how proud she was. 185

“Well,” said Dad, “You did it. I thought you were going to get your degree in experimental psychology, though.”186

“I decided I wanted to be a counselor instead.”187

“Ah. Too bad. You could have gotten a government job if you’d gone into experimental.”188

“I don’t want to have your job, Dad.”189

“Ah, right. So, you’re twenty-six.”190

“Yep.”191

“Too bad you lost all that time with the—“192

“Shut up, Dad,” I said, and David and my mom took that as their cue to leave. They stepped to the side to make small talk. “Don’t ruin this for me. I’ve done something fantastic, and if all you want to do is make me miserable, then you can go.” I could feel the tears. They wanted to come out. But I wouldn’t let them. “I thought,” I continued, “That you’d finally be proud of me. I thought that you’d finally say that yes, I did it, despite everything, I got my PhD, I lived out your precious dream, and I’ll be okay now. I thought—“193

My breath caught in my throat as Dad did something he hadn’t done to me since I was four. He hugged me. I didn’t know what to do. I just stood there stiffly as he wrapped his arms around me.194

“I am proud of you,” he said, “I’m sorry. But can you imagine what it was like sending you to college—and then bringing you home? Can you imagine finding out that my little girl was pregnant by some punk? I just wanted…” he trailed off. He sounded like he was getting a little choked up himself, which made me even more uncomfortable. I’d never seen my dad cry. He continued, “I just never wanted to see you go through all this, Lindsey. I just wish you’d never had to deal with all of this. But I am so proud of you.”195

And I hugged him back.196