Daddy's Little Girl

 

BY:  Kenda

 

 

Daddy’s Little Girl is a sequel to, The Sixties: Alive and Well.  The Sixties: Alive and Well can be found under California Dreamin’ in the Simon and Simon Library.

 

 

March through July of 1988

 

    

I suppose I should have realized something was amiss that Tuesday in late March when I hung up the phone after talking with Anita.  No one could have been more surprised than I was when my former girlfriend, and by former I mean almost twenty-one years former, contacted me out of the blue.  Granted, her daughter Megan had been in San Diego the previous August, and had hired Rick and myself to investigate the circumstances surrounding the death of Anita's brother back in 1967.   In the week it took us to solve the crime, I was bathed in both pleasant nostalgia and painful reality.  The nostalgia being the warm memories brought forth as I recalled that summer of ‘67.  I've always thought of it as the last summer of my youth and innocence.  Rick hadn't left for Vietnam yet, I hadn't started college yet, and I was madly in love with a redheaded ball of fire named Anita Cooper.  It was a summer of long, lazy days on the beach and long, lazy nights parked under the stars in my old Woody station wagon with Anita at my side. 

 

     It was also a summer of tragedy, broken hearts, and hard goodbyes.  Anita's brother Larry died that August, sending her into a tailspin of inconsolable grief.  Two weeks later Anita left without saying a word to anyone.  Not even me.  No goodbyes, no “I love you,” not even just a, “See ya’ around some time, A.J.”   A week after that Mom and I saw Rick off to boot camp.  In November he shipped out to Nam.

 

     Our investigation into Larry's death uncovered several interesting facts.   Like Anita had recently begun to suspect, her brother had been murdered.  Evidently Larry discovered his younger sister had gotten pregnant by the boy she was dating prior to me.  She'd had an abortion that winter of 1967, effectively eliminating the evidence of their indiscretions, so to speak, but that meant nothing to Larry when he furiously confronted Carl that August about what he knew.   A fight ensued between the two, which left Larry dead from a broken skull and massive internal bleeding.           

 

     Needless to say, a lot of things were uncovered I never would have imagined to be true without evidence to back them up.  The most shocking being Anita's abortion.  She'd led me to believe that she, like myself, was a virgin the first time we slept together.  I suppose had I been more experienced I would have known that wasn't true.   I would have realized she was far too worldly about a number of things for our initial encounter to have been her first time.  But I was young and trusting, and long after our relationship ended and I went on to have a number of other serious relationships with members of the opposite sex, I never looked back and gave that first experience much thought one way or another.

 

     Therefore Megan's visit brought with it a lot of good memories, a few sad ones, as well as a number of startling revelations.  Nonetheless, I enjoyed getting to know her that week.  She was a beautiful, kindhearted girl, and more than once I found myself thinking how lucky her parents were.  Anyone would have been proud to have her for a daughter.  I was also pleased to hear that after a number of troubling years, Anita had turned her life around and was happily married.  When I told Megan that I had always wanted the best for her mother, I sincerely meant it.  I was happy to hear things had turned out well for Anita.  Obviously Megan was living proof of that.

 

     When Megan left to go home she told me that someday soon she and her mother would come back to San Diego to visit me.  While I thought that was a nice thing for her to say, I never expected such an event to materialize.  After all, Anita and I hadn't seen each other in twenty years, and she'd been happily married for almost that long.  What reason would she and her daughter have to come back and visit me?

 

     So, quite frankly, within a day or two after Megan departed I forgot all about her promise.  Which was why I almost fell out of my chair that day in the office when I picked up the ringing telephone and heard a sunny voice on the other end say,  "A.J.?  Hi.  It's Anita."

 

     We talked, and laughed, and reminisced for forty-five minutes while catching up on one another's lives.  When the conversation began to wind down    she said, "A.J., Megan and I are flying down to San Diego this Friday evening and will be staying for a few days.  I need to finalize some things regarding the sale of Mom and Dad's house.  I'd really love to see you."

 

     I was eager to see her, as well.  By the time we hung up we had made arrangements for Anita and Megan to come to my house at ten o'clock on that Saturday morning. 

 

     I looked over at Rick with a big grin on my face.  "That was Anita," I announced, as though he hadn't figured that out by now.  "She and Megan are coming for a visit at the end of the week.  She wants us to spend some time together.  Isn't that great?"

 

     If I hadn't been so caught up in the excitement of seeing an old friend I would have immediately noticed Rick's demeanor.  He was suddenly quiet and uncomfortable, and began shifting restlessly in his chair. 

 

     "Uh...yeah, A.J., that's great.  Just great.  I'm sure you guys will have a...a good time."

 

     I relaxed against my chair and looked off into the distance as my mind took me back over twenty years.  "I can't wait to see her.  I mean, I know she's married and everything...but just to see her again will be neat."

 

     Rick stood and walked over to snare his coat off the rack.  I watched as he shouldered into it. 

 

     "Where are you going?"

 

     "I...uh...I've got some errands to run."

 

     "What kind of errands?"

 

     "Oh...just this and that.  I won't be back today.  It's already three-thirty.  I'll see ya’ tomorrow."

 

     I shrugged while watching my brother depart.  "Sure.  Whatever you say.  See you tomorrow."

 

     I did notice that Rick was quiet over the course of the next couple of days, but when I asked him what was wrong he'd say nothing and quickly change the subject.  Considering how many hours a week we're together, we've learned the importance of respecting one another's privacy.  Therefore, I accepted what he said and left him alone.  I half guessed Rick was tired because he'd spent one too many a recent night partying with Carlos but didn't want to confess that particular sin to me.

 

     I was up early that Saturday morning in anticipation of Anita's arrival.  I decided to prepare a meal and invite her and Megan for lunch.  As the time of their arrival neared the kitchen was filled with the spicy scents of cinnamon, nutmeg and fresh damp apples.  The cobbler cooled on the counter top, while the Chicken Kiev slowly baked in the oven.  The room had just been returned to its usual impeccable state when the bell clanged.

 

     I'd have known her anywhere.  She wore a pair of pleated beige dress slacks and a cream colored sweater with various shades of brown running through it that complimented her complexion and eyes.

 

     "Anita," I smiled as I held my arms out to her.   "You look wonderful.  You haven't changed a bit."

 

     We both laughed at my words.  Of course she'd changed.  She now wore that beautiful copper colored hair in a short wedge.  The last time I'd seen her it had hung to her waist.  And naturally there was a maturity about her face and body that spoke of a grown woman, and not a seventeen-year-old girl.  But she was still as tiny and pretty as I remembered her being, and her blue eyes still danced with mischief. 

 

     As we hugged Anita told me I hadn't changed either, though I'm sure when she stopped seeing me through rose-colored glasses she noticed I had.  My hair no longer hung in my eyes or below my collar, nor was it as white as it used to be from hours in the sun.  Though I'm not overweight, my waistline is thicker than it was twenty years ago, as are my chest and shoulders.  And just like her, I was certain time had matured my facial features, making the bones sharper and more angular. 

 

     "Come in, come in," I urged as I lightly laid a hand on her back.   I stuck my head out the open door.  "Where's Megan?"

     "She...she didn't come with me this morning.  I wanted to speak with you alone for a little while, A.J.  When we're through talking I'll call her."

 

     I didn't think anything of that explanation.  I could understand why a seventeen-year-old girl didn't want to be subjected to listening to her mother reminisce about days gone by with an old boyfriend.

 

     I led Anita over to the kitchen table and pulled out a chair for her.

 

     She looked around the room, as though trying to spy the source of the heady aromas.  "Mmmm, something smells good."

     I smiled and took a seat next to her.      "I have lunch in the oven for us.  I hope you can stay.  There's more than enough for Megan as well, if she'd like to join us."

 

     Anita sat her petite brown leather purse off to one side.  "I'm sure she'd like that.  Thank you."

 

     I realized I was being remiss in my duties as host and began to rise.  "Can I get you anything?  Coffee?  A soda?"

 

     "No, no," she shook her head.  She reached out and laid her hand on my bare arm.  "Please, A.J.  Sit down."

 

     I reseated myself and gave her a puzzled smile.  I couldn't understand why she suddenly looked so serious...and so unnerved. She reached over and took one of my hands in both of hers. 

 

     Anita’s mouth opened as if she was going to speak, and after three false starts she finally began.  "A.J...A.J., I have something to tell you that's going to be very hard for you to hear."

 

     Based on the look of uncertainty I saw on her face, I came to my own conclusion.  Gently I said,  "Anita...if you're going to tell me that you and Carl...that you were pregnant with his child during the winter of '67 and had an abortion, I already know.  Rick and I uncovered that fact in our investigation.  But don't worry, I didn't tell Megan.  I didn't feel it was my place to."

 

     One of her hands came up to softly stroke over the side of my face.  "Oh, A.J., you're so sweet.  As sweet and thoughtful as I remember you being.  But no, that's not what I wanted to tell you."

     Her hand returned to clasp mine.  "A.J...A.J., Megan wasn't born Megan Jennings.  She was born Megan Cooper."

 

     Although I didn't understand the implications of what she was trying to tell me, I was certainly aware Cooper was Anita's maiden name.

 

     "Yes?" 

 

     She swallowed hard.  "She was born Megan Andrea Cooper, her middle name being in honor of a dear friend of mine.  That friend is you, A.J."

 

     I gave her a small smile of surprise.  "Me?"

 

     "Yes, you.  Andrea was not only in honor of you as a dear friend, but as well in honor of the fact that you...you're Megan's father."

 

     My body slowly sagged against the back of my chair like a child's blow-up beach toy that's had the air let out of it. 

 

"What?"

 

     Her eyes locked with mine.  "You're Megan's father, A.J."

 

     "But...but...she's only seventeen.  It's not possible."

 

     She shook her head.  "No, A.J.  She's not seventeen.  She'll be twenty years old in three days.  On Tuesday, April 5th."

 

     Some quick mental arithmetic told me Anita would have gotten pregnant with Megan some time in July of 1967. 

 

     "But...but you told me you were on the pill," I accused, as though it made any difference now.

 

     She gave a soft smile that reflected her own foolishness.  "I was.  I didn't lie to you about that.  But I was seventeen years old, and not always as careful as I should have been.  My diligence with the use of birth control was sporadic at best."

 

     I looked away from her and sputtered, "I just...I just...I just don't understand any of this."

 

     But I did.  I understood all too well.  At least parts of it.  I didn't even have to insist on having a paternity test taken.  Now that I was aware of Megan's parentage, I was mentally seeing her in a whole new light.  She looked like a feminine version of pictures I'd seen of my father as a young man.  Therefore, I supposed that meant she looked like me as well.  And she looked exactly like pictures I'd seen of Dad's sister, Pat, when she was a teenager.  Aunt Pat is a very attractive woman yet today, but in her youth she was a knockout beauty.  The family joke had always been that Grandpa Simon greeted every one of Aunt Pat's suitors with a sawed-off shotgun and a smile.

 

     Anita squeezed my hand with both of hers and in so doing returned my attention to her face.  "I know you don't understand, A.J.  But maybe I can help you to."

 

     She took a deep breath.  "It was a week before Larry died that I missed my period.  Past experience told me I might be pregnant, but nonetheless I did a fairly good job of denying the obvious and pushing the worry to the back of my mind.  Then Larry was killed and two more weeks went by and I still didn't get my period.  I went to a doctor, who within twenty four hours confirmed I was seven weeks pregnant."

 

     My voice was hard and cold.  I imagine the expression on my face was just as unyielding. “Why didn't you tell me?"   

 

     Her eyes reflected my inner sorrow.  "Oh, A.J., how could I?  If I had told you, you would have insisted we get married."

 

     I pulled my hand out of her grip and sat up straight.  "Of course I would have insisted we get married!  What would have been so wrong with that?"

 

     "A.J., it never would have worked.  We had a wonderful summer together, and I loved you, I really did, but we weren't meant to be husband and wife.  At least not then.  You had so many dreams.  So many many dreams for your future, while I was a flighty, headstrong girl who jumped on the back of whatever wagon happened to be coming my way.  I was no more ready to settle down into married life than you were ready to spend the rest of your days working in some factory somewhere.  Which is exactly what would have happened had we gotten married.  You never would have been able to go to college, A.J.  The financial responsibilities of Megan and myself would have forced you to get a job.  And that's not what I wanted for you.  Not in a million years.  A.J. Simon was going to be somebody, and I was bound and determined that neither me nor my child were going to stand in his way."

 

     "That wasn't your decision to make, Anita.  It was mine."

 

     She gave a reluctant nod.  "I can't deny that now.  But twenty years ago I thought I was doing the right thing for both of us.  And for my parents as well.  They were so torn up over Larry's death that I just couldn't tell them I was pregnant.  They would have been so hurt...so disappointed, and I just couldn't bear the thought of being the one who added to their sorrow.  So for their sake, and yours, and for mine too, I suppose, I left San Diego."

    

"Megan was born in San Francisco then?"

 

     "Yes.  Well actually, in a commune north of there.  But not that long after she was born I returned to the city."

 

     I recalled how I had kept in touch with Anita's parents the first few months after her disappearance.  Her mother had always denied knowing Anita's whereabouts. 

 

"And your parents?  When did they find out about Megan?"

 

     "Not until she was six months old.  That's the first time I made contact with them.  I was strung out on heroin and I needed a fix.  I called home for money.   I probably wouldn't have told them about her even then, if it hadn't been that my father said he wouldn't send me money, but rather would send me a bus ticket home.  I started screaming that I had a baby to feed."

 

     She shook her head in shame.  "Upon hearing that, and hearing Megan crying in the background, Dad agreed to send me the money.   I refused give him my address, though, and made him wire it to a Western Union office on the opposite side of the city from where Megan and I were living.  With the help of a private investigator they finally tracked me down four months later."  Anita gave me a small smile.  "Mom said as soon as she saw Megan she knew you were her father."

 

     I couldn't believe it.  I had always had a good relationship with Anita's parents.  Granted, they probably weren't too thrilled to find out I had been sleeping with their daughter, but I still couldn't understand what would have made them harbor such a secret from me.  Or at least prevented her old man from coming after me with a double-barreled shotgun.  

 

"How come your parents never told me?"

 

     "They were afraid you'd try to obtain custody of Megan, and then take it one step farther and prevent them from ever seeing her."

 

     "What do you mean?  Why would I have done something like that?"

 

     It was her turn to lean back in her chair.  Her fingers idly played with the cloth place mat for a moment.  "A.J., I was a drug addict.  Mostly heroin, but LSD as well when I could get it.  I had started smoking pot as far back as when I was dating you."

 

     That was another piece of news that came as a surprise.  I began to wonder just how naive I had been in my youth.

 

     "But the hard stuff came after Larry died.  The drugs became my escape from reality, as drugs are for most junkies.  Megan and I were living on welfare in a rat-infested apartment building in a part of San Francisco where no woman had any business being.  I couldn't take care of myself, let alone take care of my child.  Mom and Dad threatened to take her away from me.  Of course I went crazy, screaming and throwing things at them, and even going after my dad with a butcher knife when he moved to pick Megan up off the dirty blanket she was lying on.  I might have sunk lower than low, but I loved that baby.  I loved her with all my heart and soul.  She was such a beautiful baby, A.J.  Her eyes were as big and blue as a china doll's.  Her cheeks were so round and pink they looked like they'd been painted on her.  Her hair was platinum blond, and curled in perfect little ringlets all around her head.  People were always telling me what an adorable little girl she was, and that I should get her into modeling.  When she was a year old I did.  She became one of the most prominent baby models in the Sears Roebuck Catalog, and I'm ashamed to say every penny she earned I spent on drugs.  I used my own daughter to support my habit.  But that's what addicts do.  Use people.  Even their innocent children.  Megan's modeling got us by another year, then things got tight again.  This time Mom and Dad made good on their threat to gain custody.  They hired an attorney in San Francisco and I was visited by a social worker before being subpoenaed to appear in court.  In the end, that was the best thing my parents could have done.  I couldn't let them take her away from me, A.J.  Every time I looked at Megan, I saw you.  She was all I had left of a time that had meant the world to me, the summer of 1967.  You were the first boy who treated me with respect.  You were the first boy who gave me a glimpse of what it was like to be loved because of who I was, as opposed to what I was willing to put out in the back seat of someone's car.

 

     "So I went off the drugs cold turkey.  It's the hardest thing I've ever done.  But when all the pain and the cravings were over, I knew for the first time in my life I had truly accomplished something.

 

     "Mom and Dad were so good to me.  If it hadn't been for their help I don't know what I would have done.  They got me into a drug treatment program and put their custody suit on hold.  Mom took me out and bought me a whole new wardrobe.  They helped me find a small apartment in a better part of town.  My folks never had a lot of money leftover after the monthly bills were paid, but somehow Dad scraped up enough to pay three months rent for me.  With my new wardrobe and newly found self-confidence, I went job hunting.  Two weeks later I was hired as a desk clerk at the Fillmore Hotel."

 

     "The same hotel your husband works for," I said.

     "Yes.  That's where I met him.  He was ten years my senior and worked on their ad campaigns.  Today he's the head of the ad division."

 

     Although I was as mad as I ever recall being, I had to know the details.  "When did the two of you get married?"

 

     "In June of 1971.  Megan was three years old.  Michael...my husband, and I started dating about six weeks after we'd met.  Our first few dates involved nothing more than strolling down to a local restaurant and sharing lunch.  I was scared to tell him about Megan.  I figured he'd dump me on the spot.  He kept asking me out to dinner and a movie but I kept refusing him.  Finally one day he laughed and asked me what kind of a secret I had hidden at my apartment that I didn't want him to discover.  Michael was the best thing that had happened to me in a long time, and I knew I was falling in love with him.  I decided I couldn't risk losing him by making him feel I was hiding a part of my life from him.  And I decided it was time I find out what affect, if any, Megan was going to have on our future relationship.  If I got the slightest indication he disapproved of her, or wouldn’t to treat her right, I was going to drop him like a hot potato.

 

     "When he came by my apartment that night, I had Megan dressed in one of the fancy ruffled dresses she had worn when modeling for Sears.  She was fresh from the bathtub and just as beautiful as she could be in her dress, white tights, and tiny black patent leather shoes.   She was just a little over two years old.  When Michael came in I took Megan by the hand and brought her out of the bedroom.

     "This is my secret," I told him.  “Michael,” I introduced, "this is my daughter, Megan."

 

     Anita smiled at the memory.  "Michael fell in love with Megan that night, and she with him.  When we left to go out to dinner he insisted that she come with us.  He wouldn't let me leave her with the babysitter I had hired.  She had such a sunny disposition and was a happy, well-behaved child.  I always thought of you, A.J., when people would compliment me on her personality.  I used to say she's just like her father."

 

     If she thought the flattery was going to appease me she was wrong.  It was twenty years too late for that.  Although I had already guessed the answer to my next question, I asked it anyway. 

 

"Why does Megan go by Megan Jennings?"

 

     Anita's eyes momentarily fell to the table.  "Michael legally adopted her a few weeks after her fourth birthday."

 

     "How could he do that?  I'm her father!"

 

     "Yes, A.J., you are.  But your name isn't on her birth certificate, and I told the judge I didn't know who Megan’s father was.  Now days things would be different.  It would be harder for such an adoption proceeding to go through.  But sixteen years ago the courts weren't as concerned about the rights of the biological parents, especially the biological father, as they are today."

 

     I shook my head in disgust and looked away from her. "Lucky me."

 

     She reached out a tentative hand and made contact with my arm.  "A.J...I'm sorry.  I really am.  But she was already four years old, and you didn't even know she existed."

 

     My tone was biting and sarcastic as my head whipped around.  "And just whose fault is that, Anita?"

 

     She readily confessed,  "It's mine, A.J.  I know it's mine, and I'll never deny that fact.  But as I was saying, you didn't know Megan existed, and Megan didn't know you existed.  As far as she was concerned, Michael was her father.  Both Michael and I felt it would be easier on her if that's how we went forward.  And I thought you'd marry one day and have children of your own.  I thought...well, I thought that for those reasons Megan wouldn't be as important to you."

     "How can you say that? How dare you decide whether or not a child of mine is important to me.  Even if I'd married and had ten children, Megan would still be important to me.  Just as important as the others.  But the point is, Anita, I didn't get married, did I?  Or at least I haven't yet.  And I don't have any other children, so your justification of why you and your husband did what you did is pretty damn lame.  And pretty damn pointless as well."

 

     I could see tears shimmering in her eyes, but I didn't care.  If she was looking to me for sympathy then she was looking at the wrong man.

 

     "I know, A.J.  I know.  If I could go back and do it all over again, then believe me, I would.  But I can't.  What's done is done.  It's how we go forward from here that matters."

     I wasn't so certain I had any desire to ‘go forward from here,’ as she put it.  "Can you tell me why it took you twenty years to come to me with this news?"

 

     Anita reached for her purse and pulled out a tissue.  She dabbed at the tears in the corners of her eyes, then absently twisted the tissue into a tight knot.  

 

"For a number of reasons, I suppose.  As I said, Megan was so young when Michael came into our lives that she doesn't remember him not being with us.  Therefore, it was easy to allow her to believe he was her real father.  And as time passed, Michael and I discovered we were unable to have children of our own.  Megan is all we have.  I remember telling him one time how sorry I was that we'd been unable to conceive.  Do you know what he said to me?"

     Of course I didn't, nor did I really care, so I didn't bother to answer her. 

 

     "He kissed me and said, ‘Anita, don't ever apologize for that again.  We have Megan.  I love her as much as I could love a child of my own blood.  Whenever we're feeling sorry for ourselves all we need to do is look at Megan to realize how rich we really are.’"

 

     My voice dripped with venom.  "Congratulations on your wealth.  Thanks to you and your husband, some of us haven't been allowed to share in the spoils."  

 

     A long uncomfortable silence prevailed.  I had a feeling Anita was no longer thinking of me as sweet and thoughtful.

 

     Anita finally cleared her throat and resumed her story.  "Michael's the remainder of the reason it's taken me twenty years to come to you.  Like my parents, he was so afraid you'd try to obtain custody of Megan.  He couldn't bear the thought of having her taken from us.  But I promised myself that regardless of my husband's wishes, I would tell Megan who her father really was when she turned eighteen."

 

     "And did you?"

 

     "No.  She beat me to it.  When she was fifteen, Megan was home alone one day and started snooping through my closet.  It was there that she discovered her birth certificate and adoption papers.  As well, she found pictures of you from our high school days, and articles about your business Mom had sent me over the years."  Anita smiled.  "My daughter inherited her father's private investigation skills.  In a short amount of time she concluded that Michael wasn't her biological father and that you were."

 

     "When did she tell you what she knew?"

 

     "A couple of weeks later when Michael was away on a fishing trip.  She was very angry with me, of course.  And very confused and upset.  It took the two of us a long time to iron things out.  When we were finally back on an even keel I explained to her how much what she knew would hurt Michael.  Megan reluctantly agreed that we would wait until she was eighteen before we'd tell Michael what she knew.  From there I told her it was her decision as to whether or not she would choose to contact you.  Although she was only fifteen, she told me she thought she'd want to do that one day.  But then, shortly before Megan's eighteenth birthday, Michael became very ill.  He grew weak and short of breath, and eventually he didn't even have the strength to get out of bed.  He had contracted a virus that attacked his heart.  His only chance was a transplant."

 

     I nodded my head.  "Megan mentioned when she was here last summer that he'd just undergone open heart surgery."

 

     "Yes, he got his new heart in July.  And that's why Megan and I delayed telling Michael that she had discovered he wasn't her biological father.  I talked to his doctor about the situation, and he advised against any stress or upsets until after the transplant had taken place."

 

     "But he knows now?"

 

     "Yes. We told him three weeks ago.  You see, A.J., I had no idea my daughter was planning to seek you out when she came to San Diego in August.  If I had known, I would have forbidden it.  But I also understand she wanted to meet her father.  It's only natural for her to be curious as to what type of a man you are.  So she came to your office and hired you to investigate Larry's death.  Her purpose was twofold.   She wanted to help me put Larry's memory to rest, and she wanted to meet you.  Our very determined daughter accomplished both those things, A.J."

 

     "Yes, she did," I agreed softly.  "But why didn't she tell me who she was while she was here?"

 

     "Because Michael still didn't know.  His surgery had only been a few weeks earlier, and the doctors were speaking in very guarded terms regarding his prognosis.  Megan wouldn't allow herself to put Michael's health at risk."

 

     I suddenly realized how difficult this must have all been for Megan.  In many ways she was torn between two men, both of them her father, and her loyalties to them.  "She's a good girl," was all I said.

 

     "Yes," Anita smiled.  "She is.  Though I almost shot her when she came home and told me what she'd done.  Especially when she told me Rick knew who she was.  I was so afraid he'd tell you, and you'd come tearing up to Hollander with blood in your eye.  Despite your sweet disposition, I well remember your temper."

 

     I ignored her teasing to question incredulously, "Rick knew?"

 

     "Yes.  He told Megan he suspected she was your daughter that very first day in the office.  A few days later he had somehow obtained a copy of her birth certificate and then, of course, knew for certain."

 

     He knew!  That son-of-a-bitch knew and he didn't tell me!

 

     For the time being I let the issue of Rick drop.  I'd be talking to him personally about this entire situation at a later time.

 

     My amiable host voice had long ago left me.  "So what exactly is the purpose of this little visit?  If Megan already knows who I am, then I don't see the point."

 

     Anita looked at me as though she couldn't believe what she was hearing.  "The purpose is so you and Megan can get to know one another.  So you...so the two of you can decide how you want to go forward with your relationship."

 

     "What relationship?"  I scoffed.  "Megan and I have no relationship, thanks to you.  Thanks to you I missed her first smile, and the skinned knees, and the birthdays, and the school plays..."  by now I was choking back my tears.  "And all the times she might have thrown her arms around me and said, "I love you, Daddy."  I flew from my chair so fast it clattered to the floor.  "Thanks to you I missed out on all those things I would have so much wanted to be a part of!  And now you show up at my house twenty goddamn-years-too-late, and have the audacity to tell me I'm now allowed to have a relationship with my daughter!  Well you can just go to hell, lady!   Go to hell and leave me alone while you're at it!"

 

     The tears now streaming down her face meant nothing to me.  "A.J..."

 

     My hand swept out and indicated to the door.  "Just go, Anita.  Go!"

 

     She grabbed for her purse and brushed by me without another word.  She opened the door and paused before rushing out.  Her tears caused her voice to quiver.   

 

"We're staying at the Fillmore, A.J.  Room 127.  We'll be here until Wednesday.  I was hoping...I was hoping you could celebrate Megan's birthday with us."

 

     I issued my final command.  "Get out, Anita."

 

     I turned my back on her.  I heard the soft click of the door, indicating she'd done as I'd ordered.  I bent down and picked up the chair that was on the floor.  I pitched it upright so violently it marred the wood of the table.  I kicked a cabinet door as I passed through the kitchen, knocking it off one set of hinges and leaving it dangling like a child's loose tooth.

 

     Five minutes later I was in the garage plummeting my punching bag and crying.     

 

 

 

S&S    S&S     S&S    S&S     S&S    S&S

 

 

     My tears had long stopped, but my anger still boiled red hot when I headed over to Rick's later that afternoon. 

 

     And that's just how I wanted it.

 

     He was out on the deck of his houseboat dangling a fishing line over the railing, Marlowe at his feet.  I climbed aboard without announcing my presence.   I wasn't trying to muffle my footsteps, so as soon as I rounded the corner he turned and smiled.

 

     "Hey, A.J."

 

     I continued toward him, grabbed a fistful of his Hawaiian shirt, and popped him one right on the jaw.  He reeled backwards, but I snared his arm before he could sail overboard.  It wasn't my intention to drown him, though admittedly I was so angry I was sorely tempted.  Marlowe struggled to his arthritic feet and lumbered over to the other side of the boat.  He must have decided he was too old to referee anymore of our fights. 

 

     Rick righted himself and brought a hand up to gingerly feel his tender jaw.  "What the hell was that for?"

 

     "You know what it's for, you bastard."

     "I do not!"

 

     "You don't, huh?  Well then maybe I better prime your memory with my other fist."  I advanced on him, though not with the intention of hitting him. "You knew, Rick.  You knew Megan was my daughter and you didn't tell me."

     He slowly nodded his head.  "That's right, A.J.," he agreed softly.  "I didn't tell you."

 

     "Why not?"

     "Because I made a promise to that little girl that I wouldn't.  I promised her that I'd allow her and Anita to tell you themselves.  And just like my promises mean something to you, they mean something to your daughter as well."

 

     He probably knew that would take some of the wind out of my

self-righteous sails.  Promises had always been a sacred thing between us.  Even dating back to childhood, we'd never broken a vow we'd made to one another.

 

     Rick laid a solicitous hand on my arm, but I jerked away from his touch.  He allowed his hand to drop.  "Come on.  I think we'd better finish this in private."

 

     For the first time I took note of Rick's neighbors to the north and south.  It was a gorgeous Saturday afternoon and everyone was out on the decks of their boats.  Granted, they were used to overhearing the Simon brothers quarrel now and then, but they'd never witnessed quite the scene they were privy to this day.

 

     He led the way into his boat.  "You want a beer?"

 

     "No."

 

     He reached in the fridge and pulled out a cold bottle of Budweiser, but didn't open it.  Instead he took a seat at the kitchen table and brought the beer bottle up to rest on his rapidly discoloring jaw.

 

     I was already feeling guilty about the punch, but was still too angry to apologize for it. 

 

     Rick indicated to the chair across from him.  "I think you'd better have a seat and talk to me."

 

     I paced the floor of his small galley.  "I don't want to have a seat.  And I'm not so damn certain I want to talk to you either."

 

     "Oh.  So you just came over to punch my lights out, huh?"

 

     I whirled on him and his damn teasing.  "She's my daughter, Rick!  She's my daughter, and it's taken Anita twenty years to see fit to tell me."

 

     He gave a slow nod of sympathy.  "I know, A.J.  I know.  And I'm sorry."

 

     “Yeah, yeah.”  I turned my back and waved a hand in dismissal.  "You're sorry.  Anita's sorry.  Hell, everybody's sorry.  Well, I'm sorry too.  Sorry that I never got to hold my newborn daughter in my arms.  Sorry that I never got to teach her to pitch a ball.  Sorry that I didn't get to run along beside her while she learned to ride a bike."  By now there were tears in my voice.  "And just plain sorry that I didn't get to watch her grow up."

 

     "Nobody can ever give you back those things, A.J.," he said softly.  "I know that, and I hurt for you, kid.  I really do.  But now that you know the truth, you and Megan can begin to build a relationship."

 

     I turned to face him.  "You and Anita must have read the same book."

     He looked at me with puzzlement.

 

     "Relationship seems to be the fifty cent word today.  Well I told her, and now I'll tell you, I don't want a relationship.  Megan already has a relationship with a man she refers to as her father.  Why the hell does she need me in her life?"

 

     "She needs you for a lot of reasons, A.J.  She needs you so she can better understand where it is she came from.   She may have been born a Cooper, and she may have been adopted a Jennings, but the fact of the matter is, she's a Simon, too.  She deserves to know about our side of the family as well."

 

     "She's spent twenty years not knowing about us.  What difference does it make now?"

 

     "It makes a lot of difference!   And when you stop feeling sorry for yourself you'll see that."

 

     I scowled at him.  "Don't patronize me, Rick.  And I'm not feeling sorry for myself."

 

     "That's how it looks from here."

 

     "Well maybe if you'd pull that damn beer bottle away from your face you'd see the world a bit more clearly."

 

     "Actually," he quipped as he held the bottle in front of him and studied the label,  "I usually find I see the world very clearly after a couple of Bud's."

 

     I shook my head at him and turned for the door.

 

     "A.J., look, I’m sorry," he said as he sat the beer bottle on the table and pushed it aside.  “For everything.  This is...well, this is one thing I just can't make better for you, and I'm helping in the only way I know how.  I don't want to see you do something that you're gonna regret a few days from now after you've had a chance to calm down."

 

     I turned around and declared like an insolent child,  "I'm not planning to calm down."        

 

     Rick ducked his head, but not before I caught his smile.  "You are a stubborn jackass, ya’ know that?"

     "If I'm a stubborn jackass, it's only because my older brother's an obstinate mule."    

 

     "That your older brother is.  But unlike you, he knows when his obstinacy is only going to cause him further grief."

 

     "That's my choice to make," I told him firmly.  "Not yours."

 

     "A.J..."

 

     "Drop it, Rick.  The subject is now closed."

 

     His eyes widened.  "The subject of your daughter is a closed one?"

     My heart constricted with pain.  "Yes.  It is."

     "But, A.J.--"

 

     "Look, Rick, you've made a number of decisions over the years that I haven't approve of, but I didn't stop you from making them.  This decision is mine to make, and whether or not you approve is neither here nor there."

 

     "Do you mind if I forge a relationship with my niece?"

 

     I turned away from him.  "Do what you want.   It makes no difference to me."