Bad News for Daddy's Girl

Mother and Dad were in the parlor. I could hear their voices. They hardly ever sat in there in the afternoon, and I felt like I interrupted a discussion they didn’t want me to hear. I had come home early from swim practice because the coach wanted us to rest and think about the state meet this coming weekend. Coach said we should go home, do our homework, and have a nice dinner. That sounded good to me, except I also planned on shooting a few baskets with Burnie if he had his after-school chores done. He wasn’t very busy after the marching band was done with football season. He had a few weeks before concert band started their winter practices after school.

I came in the house before going to Burnie’s because I was a little bit hungry and hoped mom had made little cinnamon rolls out of the extra pie crust, like she usually does. I knew she had made an apple pie today, because I could smell it from the street! Sometimes I wished I had a brother or a sister, but when Mother made those little cinnamon rolls, I was very glad to be an only child; I didn’t have to share them with anyone else!

I heard Mother say, “Mable’s home early. Hush!”

I heard Dad say, “When are we going to tell her?”

Mother answered, “After dinner. I’m going to see if she wants a snack. I made those cinnamon rolls she likes.”

I dashed into the kitchen as quickly as I could. I was sitting on the little red stool by the back door when Mother came in.

Pretending I hadn’t heard them in the parlor, I asked, “Are there cinnamon rolls in my future? I smelled apple pie from the sidewalk.”

“There sure are, Sweetie. I know what makes my girl happy.” She handed me a small pink plate with four miniature cinnamon rolls on it. She had even made a little powdered sugar frosting for them. She had never done that before.

All I could think was that they must have had some really bad news to tell me. I had no idea what it could be. I mean, they weren’t even going to tell me during dinner; they were waiting until after dinner. I slowly chewed the rolls, worrying more by the minute. They did not even have a taste. Well, I guess they did taste… like trouble.

“You should have your homework done before dinner, Mable,” Mother said over her shoulder as she began taking some vegetables out of the ice box. “It will be ready in about an hour.”

I knew the best thing to do was to go straight to the dining room table and get my math and science done. Those were about the only subjects I ever had homework in. Math and science did not get along very well with me, so I had to work extra hard to make sure they didn’t ruin my GPA. Just having athletic skill was not enough to get me into college; I also had to have the good grades. Of course, now the homework was the last thing on my mind. I did finish it quickly, though, and then all I just sat there and drew the little cubes I liked to doodle, while I wondered what on earth the bad news was going to be. Shooting baskets with Burnie was going to have to happen later.

After what was an extremely elongated hour, Mother called from the kitchen, “Please clean up your homework, Mable, and get the table set for dinner. Please use the brown placemats and the cloth napkins. Then you can come out here and help me put this food on the table. Thank you. You’re a good girl, the very best girl a mother could have.”

Whoa, horsey! My mother was a loving parent, but that kind of talk was over the dam. All I could think now was that someone must have died or something. I hoped my grandmother in Steamboat Rock was not ill, or something worse. As I quickly set the table, I braced myself for a quick and silent dinner.

Dad was trying really hard to make it a nice meal. “These pork chops sure are delicious, Henrietta. Did you get these at Gapinski’s Butcher Shop?”

Mother played the game with him. “Yes, I did, dear. Do you like the carrots? They are that last bunch from the garden, except, of course, for the ones I put in the root cellar.”

“Would you please pass the Jell-O salad, Mable? I’m glad you made pie for dessert, Henrietta, but I’m afraid I’ll have to save it for later. The rest of this meal really filled me up. It’s not like it was when I was a teenager, like Burnie. I could eat all day, and never fill up.”

After what seemed to be an eternity, Dad thanked Mother for a delicious meal and she cleared the table. I thought maybe I would at least try it, so I asked, as I usually do, “May I please be excused, Dad?”

“No, Mable,” Dad said solemnly, “Just give Mother a minute to clear the dishes. We need to have a little conversation with you.”

“Daddy, is Grandma okay?” I just had to know right away. The suspense seemed cruel.

“Oh, Mable. Grandma is just fine. You are actually going to be getting to spend some more time with her. She is coming for a visit.”

“So that’s what you wanted to tell me? Is that all? That Grandma is coming to visit?” Gee whiz, was I relieved!

Mom came rushing out of the kitchen. I could tell she was not wanting to miss any of our conversation. “John Henry, could you just wait a minute until I can sit back down, please?” She sounded a little peeved.

“Sorry, dear, but Mable started asking questions right after you left. She was afraid something was wrong with your mother. I had to reassure her. Really, Mable, Grandma is just fine and she will be here to visit soon.”

“Oh honey, that is so sweet, to be worried about Grandma,” Mother said as she patted my shoulder. “I’m so sorry if we frightened you. I told Dad we had to talk to you really soon.” Mom looked at Dad with a sad glance. Then she turned towards me and tried to smile. I could tell she knew I had seen the same look on Dad’s face. She looked away from me again.

“Whatever you have to tell me, please just say it,” I begged.

Dad cleared his throat. He shifted his chair a little and it scraped on the wood floor. Leaning towards me, he said, “Mable, I

need to go down to Texas for a while. A long trip this time. I got a telephone call the other day, and your mother and I have been discussing it. I have a chance to go work on a couple of buildings in Texas, and we really cannot pass up the money I can make. Hours that I can get paid for at the Water Works in the wintertime are pretty skimpy. We need to get through the winter with enough coal for the furnace and enough money to be sure that you have everything you need to get to college next year.”

I hated it. Really, I just hated it when Dad had to go away for a couple of weeks. At least this time, Grandma would be here and we could spend more time together. I wondered why they were making such a big deal out of it, so I asked.

“So, at least you’ll be back in time for Thanksgiving, right? That’s no big shakes, Dad. Mom and I will have fun with Grandma. And the state swim meet is in five days, so you will here for my last swim meet.”

“Well, that’s why it’s a big deal, darling daughter. They want me there by Friday. I need to leave tomorrow morning if I am going to make it. Some of the men they had down there in Houston were making trouble and they fired them. They are way behind on completing their building. My friend down there has talked to the foreman and he wants me to get down there pronto. This is a chance to make money that we cannot afford to pass up or even procrastinate on.” He said it with such finality, there was no discussing it or bargaining, I was sure.

After what seemed like an unnaturally long silence, I choked out the question. “You mean you’re going to miss my final state meet? Just miss it altogether? Not be in the state, even? Just gone, not there at all?”

Dad stood up and came over next to my chair. He knelt down and put his construction-man strong arm around me. “The Tellepsen Builders in Houston need me to be up on the high ironwork for a month or two and the PacBell Company in San Francisco needs me for another month. Same deal. This will give me and Mother an opportunity to keep this house warm all winter and to make sure we have the money you need to start college in Iowa City next fall. The basketball season will still be going when I get back, so I will get to see some of your games. I have been going to all your swim meets, and I will come watch you swim next year in Iowa City. I am really looking forward to that. I’m going to miss you and Mother terribly, but Grandma will be here, and you will have a great time at Thanksgiving and Christmas. I went early Christmas shopping yesterday.

“You’re not going to be here for Christmas?” I howled. “They’re going to make you work on Christmas?”

“No, Mable. I won’t be working on Christmas. Usually when I go on these work trips, I spend the weekend at the home of one of the workers. I’m sure that’s what I will be doing on Christmas. Texas and California are just too far away to come back for a day or two. It’s not like when I worked over in Chicago. That was a day’s drive and I came home for your birthday two years ago. Remember? This is much farther. I’m really sorry, honey, but Dad’s got to be gone.”

I was on the verge of tears. This was not fair. It was my senior year. Burnie’s dad didn’t have to leave Des Moines to make a living. Why couldn’t my dad work in an office? Or why couldn’t Des Moines build a skyscraper? I broke down; I just gave in to the idea of Dad missing my state swim meet, of him missing our Thanksgiving, of not having him here for our family Christmas celebrations. My heart felt like it was crumbling.

“I understand, Daddy, I really do,” I sobbed. “It’s…it’s just that I had my senior year all planned. You were supposed to come to ALL my meets and games. This ruins everything!”

“It will be fine, Mable. I will call you on the telephone after every meet and every game and you can tell me all the details. You need to have that guy on the Oracle staff, the one with the camera, you need to have him get busy and make sure your old Dad has stacks of photographs of his champion daughter, okay?”

“I’m trying not to cry, Dad, but this is just so unfair,” I tried to explain, but I started feeling like I didn’t want to talk to my parents anymore tonight. I wanted to talk to Burnie. There wasn’t anything he could do about this, but he would know what to say to make me feel better.

“I’m not trying to be impolite, Daddy, but I think I just need some time to get used to the idea of this. I know you are doing what you think is the very best thing to help me and Mother. I truly do appreciate how hard you work and I know you wish you could stay here.”

The more I talked right to Dad, who was still kneeling next to me, the better I felt. His being right there with his arm around me gave me strength, but I had to go over to Burnie’s and let him know that my senior year was falling apart.

Dad knew what I was thinking. That is what made him the most incredible dad on earth.

“Why don’t you go over and shoot those baskets with Burnie now, Mable? It will give you some time to work this out in your pretty little head.”

Dad knew exactly what to say most of the time, and this was one of those times. He knew I just had to have some time to get things figured out.

However, what he didn’t know was the idea I had wanted to talk with him about when I came home today. I had mentioned it once to Burnie, but at that time, I think he assumed I was just joking. I don’t joke about sports or journalism. I would think Burnie would know that much about me. With this new development of Dad leaving, I only had one day left to talk to him about it, so I was going to have to go next door right now and talk to my best friend about it first. I was hoping and praying that Burnie would understand and be able to give me the moral support I would need to talk to Dad about it.

I knocked on the Orwig’s front door, hoping they were finished with their dinner. Burnie peeked out the big front window in their living room. He made a goofy face at me and motioned that he would be right out. He had no idea that the wheels were falling off my perfect senior year.