Page 29 of Rough Start

“I remember that,” Eliana said as a memory infiltrated her mind. “I remember when we'd go to church, she’d wear this bright orange hat with a yellow scarf around it. ‘God made many colors, Liana, why do we wear only one at a time?’ I can’t believe I remember her telling me that…”

“She was a brilliant woman; she could glow in the dark she was so radiant,” Henry continued, and the two fell into a momentary silence that passed with fondness. “Liana, when I call you a saint, I know it probably sounds unfair.”

“Daddy…”

“No, let me say this,” he interjected. “I never was much of a man without your mom. I’ve spent too much damn time in this town. I only left twice, and the things I saw overseas were things I hoped to never bring back with me…” he said, alluding to his short career in the military. Eliana knew only three things about his service in the Marines: he joined trying to be a hero, he was dishonorably discharged, and to never ask him about it. “I’ve done a lot of bad things in my life, and I guess the only way I felt better about doing them was because I told myself I was doing them for you and your mother.”

“She’s been gone a long time, Dad,” Eliana said. She had a certain level of compassion for her father, but his helplessness triggered more pity in her than empathy.

“You won’t remember this, but after you were born, your mom got sick. Really sick. Doctors couldn’t figure out why she was still bleeding and how to stop it. Before surgery, she made me promise that no matter what, I’d do right by you. After she got better I thought, good, she’s still around because God knows I don’t know how to raise a daughter.”

“I doubt any guy at your age would have.”

“No, but a lot of guys would have done better. A lot better…” Henry reached across the table to take her hand again. “I let your mom down, Eliana,” he said, using her full name for perhaps the first time in years. “I haven’t done right by you. I’m sorry that things are this way. I’m sorry that I’m this way.”

“Dad, we could use some of the money to get you into treatment,” Eliana suggested. “It’s not too late to turn things around. You know, I could help.”

“No,” Henry said solemnly, “you’ve done too much for this old man already and, to be honest, I’d be too scared to get sober. Alcohol seems to be the only thing that keeps the demons away.”

“Alcohol is a demon.”

“I won’t argue that, but it’s a demon I know and have become comfortable with,” Henry admitted.

“Well that makes one of us,” Eliana said, pulling her hand away. “I need to get these groceries put away and take my boxes to the thrift store before it closes.” As she stood, Henry grabbed her hand more forcefully this time.

“Liana, I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “I know it’s not the answer you want. I promise I will try to get clean and fix things between us. I don’t want you to go off to college and never see you again. I just don’t want you feeling like you have to take care of me anymore. You need to live your own life.”

“I’ll still visit sometimes,” Eliana said, but even as the words left her mouth she nearly vomited. The idea of going to school and never returning was what had kept her strong for the last five years.

“I know you won’t, Liana. There’s nothing in this town for you except bad memories and a house that’s barely standing,” he said, gesturing to the walls around them. “But I just want to ask, if somehow, someway, I can sober up, maybe put on a pair of clean pants and shave,” he said with a small laugh, “would it be ok if I came and visited sometime? Maybe at Christmas?” There was a childlike vulnerability in Henry’s eyes that, had they not had the last thirteen years of baggage, might have moved her, but instead she found herself full of contempt.

“I don’t know, Dad, you’re going to have to give me some time to be there and get settled. I’ll be really busy with homework and you know, I have a work-study program that’s going to help me pay for school. I’ll be working in the administration building, so I’ll likely have to work holiday breaks…”

“I understand,” Henry said, nodding and letting his hand drop from hers. “You’ve got a whole new life in store, and I won’t stand in the way of that.” A single tear dripped down his face, and Eliana felt her heart constrict painfully in her chest. Poor Henry Granville. Poor drunk and lonely Henry Granville.

“Maybe for New Year’s, though,” she suggested against her better judgment. Henry’s face lit up in a smile. “We could go to Boston or something.”

“Have a cup of clam chowder,” he offered, and Eliana laughed.

“Sure, Daddy, we’ll get a cup of red and white and see which one is better.” Henry stood and wrapped her into a large hug. Eliana hugged him back with all the hopes that maybe, one day, their pretend fantasy of eating chowder on the bay would actually come true. Though she wished it, she knew better than to expect it.

“You’d best get going,” Henry suggested as they broke the hug. “I’ll put the groceries away, and you get those boxes moving. Only a few weeks left of school, I imagine you’ll want to have your stuff ready by then.”

“That’s the idea,” she agreed. “The sooner I get my stuff sent, the sooner I can start my summer job and put some money aside.”

“Speaking of which,” Henry said as though he’d remembered something. “Before you go to the thrift shop, I want you to go to the bank, put this money into your account.” He handed her a paper money order with more zeros on it than she’d expected.

“Dad…”

“You need to be quick about it too,” he insisted, “some shady things going on around town. Been seeing a lot of motorcycles from those Screaming Demons and a fair amount of cop cars. Not sure what the raucous is, but I don’t want you wrapped up in any of it.”

“I’m not going to get put on an FBI watch list for depositing this much money, am I?” she asked, only partially joking.

“I don’t know about the FBI, but I took out the money order myself. I told the director of the bank that I’d sold my stock in the lumberyard, and they didn’t ask any questions.”

“Thank you, Daddy,” she said and stood on her tiptoes to kiss her father on the cheek. He wrapped an arm around her in a quick hug before she pocketed the money order and left the room to pack up the boxes.

Henry heaved a heavy sigh. As he watched Eliana finish packing up the truck and pull out of the driveway, he couldn’t help but think of that sweet, pigtailed little girl who used to dance around the living room playing a toy trumpet and singing ‘When the Saints Go Marching In’ as loudly as she could. That little girl was long gone now. Long gone and almost out of reach for poor Henry Granville.