There’s nothing like being humiliated by your own child. Doesn’t matter whether they’ve caught you having sex, woken you up after a night of hard drinking when your breath is 90-proof, or busted your balls about how they said you were driving too fast while the cop who pulled you over is weighing up whether to write you a ticket. Kids are supposed to look up to you and see a hero. Pity coming from a kid has a particularly bitter taste.
Skye offered hers with silence and awkward looks. It had been a long time since I’d felt okay about myself, so there was no question of me suffering the ego shock of being knocked from hero status, but on Alameda Street, sucking in the fumes from the passing cars, my shriveled ego was desiccated even more. She used to be a chatty girl and her eyes had once been like stadium floodlights, shining with love and admiration for me. I was Daddy the soldier man, the clever, handsome engineer who could build and fix stuff. She’d slip her child’s hand into mine and shine those floodlights at me so brightly I knew I was the center of her world. Her blond curls would bounce as she chatted enthusiastically about animals and planets, her two favorite interests, and I would listen and share whatever learning I had to offer. Those were the good times, before I ruined all our lives by getting myself locked up.
By the time I got out, her golden locks had turned a sandy brown and the child had been replaced by a teenager. Teen Skye was a young woman whose hair was cut short and accented red in places. She wore grungy T-shirts and baggy jeans, and usually had on a wide baseball cap that concealed most of her face.
I wanted to ask about her symptoms, but Toni had told me to steer clear, so I couldn’t talk about the biggest thing in our lives right now.
“How’s school?” I asked, deploying a trusty reserve question.
“We’re on vacation.”
My ego shriveled a little more. I couldn’t even ask a good question.
“But there’s summer school,” she added. “Mom’s booked me in when she’s working.”
Toni did paperwork and helped keep the books at a Goodwill store on Redondo Beach Boulevard not far from her apartment. It didn’t pay well, but it was all she could get as a high school graduate who’d worked to help finance her ex-husband’s tuition. We’d been able to afford for only one of us to go to college and had made the mistake of choosing me. Toni would never have screwed up the way I had.
“And it’s good,” Skye said. “A lot of my friends from regular school are there.”
“Kelly? Sam?” I asked.
She scrunched up her face and shook her head. “No. My new friends from high school. Brook, Laura, Gloria.”
“Oh.” I didn’t know who any of those girls were.
“What happened to your car?” Skye asked.
More shriveling.
“I, well, I, er…”
There was no good answer.
“Mom says you probably totaled it while wasted.”
A shriveled husk now. If it shrunk any more, my ego would vanish.
“Your mom can jump to conclusions sometimes.” It wasn’t a lie.
“What happened to you, Dad?” Skye asked with the earnestness only a child can pull off.
It was a real good question and one I’d asked myself in my darkest moments. I had a grab bag of theories, but none I was prepared to share with my kid, so I just replied with a weak smile and walked a little quicker.
Skye was smart enough not to press for an answer, so we both hurried on, pretending the question had never been asked. Wilson Park was a concession against concrete, an island of green, resisting the encroaching sprawl. The skate park and adventure playground were busy, and the paths were crowded with joggers, dog walkers, and families. There were softball, Frisbee, and touch-football games happening on the lawns.
Fate smiled on me, or so I thought. Turns out it was the mocking grin of a god with a wicked sense of humor.
“There’s Laura.” Skye pointed at a girl about her age. “She’s one of my friends from class.”
She ran toward the girl, who had platinum-blond hair and was about the same height and slight build. She was walking with a rugged man I assumed was her father.
“Skye,” I said, but she was gone, so I followed her and a few moments later joined the trio, who were standing to the side of a path that led to the adventure playground.
“Hey,” the man said. “I’m Bill. Laura’s dad.”
“Peyton,” I replied, shaking the man’s hand.
His skin was rough and his fingers tough and ridged with callouses. Maybe I was seeing qualities I was missing, but in my mind, he had the strong grip and honest eyes of a man who wouldn’t let you down. He was probably five years my junior but hadn’t lived my life and looked as though he worked out, so I felt much older.
“Wanna go watch the soccer?” Laura asked, and Skye nodded.
They ran off before Bill or I could respond. He smiled indulgently, and we fell in beside each other as we headed for the soccer field.
“Some days they’re still kids,” he remarked. “Others they’re too-cool-for-school grumpy teens. Or in this case, hormonal teens watching boys play sports. One of Laura’s friends is playing, so she dragged me down here. I haven’t had the courage to ask if he’s a boyfriend. It’s a tough age.”
I nodded absently as the girls settled at the sideline of an impromptu soccer match. Boyfriends? How were we here already? I realized with a sinking feeling that I still thought of Skye as a little kid, as though she hadn’t aged while I was inside, but time hadn’t stood still for her the way it had for me.
“Laura said you were in the army.”
“Yeah,” I replied, surprised Skye would even talk to her friends about me. “Army engineering. You?”
“I went straight into a job after high school. Never thought about the military and couldn’t afford college.” He hesitated. Was I supposed to say something? “I got work at an auto shop. Trained as a mechanic and never left. Been there fourteen years.”
I wished I could trade the man his steady, dependable life for my mess. I hadn’t been able to find a job since my release.
“You still serving?” he asked.
I shook my head. “I’m between jobs. Figuring out what to do next.”
He nodded at the girls, who were shouting at one of the players, a handsome boy with hair that fell about his face. “Got to give back better, right? Our parents gave their best for us, now we’ve got to pay it forward for the next generation. Laura says Skye wants to be a doctor. Med school.” He exhaled sharply, and I pictured him presenting a customer with an astronomical quote for a new head gasket and an engine rebuild.
I had no idea Skye wanted to be a doctor. She was too young to be thinking about careers, right? How did this stranger know more about my daughter than me? Why hadn’t Toni told me our daughter wanted years of college education?
“Loans or paid up front, either way it’s expensive. Even with scholarships,” Bill said. “But that’s what kids are there for, right? To keep us on our toes. Got to pay forward our good fortune.”
I nodded as my ego shriveled to nothing. I couldn’t fulfill even the most basic of my daughter’s dreams—a new dress, a pair of shoes. Even with the hundred grand for Walter Glaze, how would I have any hope of helping her achieve her life goal?