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See my father? After all these years? I had no idea he’d been keeping tabs on me. How could I?
I’m unsure how that makes me feel. But knowing he’s here now, that he’s been here… I can’t make him wait.
“I want to see him,” I say. “But I have to go by myself.”
“Are you sure?” he asks.
Rockwell has done so much for me already, too much even. I can’t add family drama to that long list, everything I owe him.
I nod. “I’m sure.”
“Take the rest of the morning off. If you can meet me at the house at noon for the date, that’s great. But if you need more time with your dad, I understand.”
His words fall on cotton-filled ears. I can’t believe I’m going to see my dad again.
After fifteen minutes of reassuring him I need to go alone, he relents. A security guard comes to collect me in a black Escalade. I wring my hands as I ride down the city streets toward Brooklyn. Apparently, they’ve been keeping him at a house on the peninsula by Brighton Beach.
He’s going to meet me at a currently undisclosed-to-me location.
I look up, confused, as we pull into the amusement park of Coney Island. “I’ve never been here before,” I say more to myself than the driver or security guard planted in the front seats of the SUV.
The boardwalk boasts rides, a Ferris wheel, stalls selling hotdogs and ice cream. The sun shines down on me, the sound of the waves lapping the shore as I wait on a bench, flanked by undercover guards.
This looks like a place a father would take his young daughter for a day of sunshine and fun. A vague memory comes to me, a carnival coming to our small town, an argument between my father and mother, ending with my father and me leaving the house.
Me riding the Ferris wheel, my dad next to me as we rose to the top. I could see our little house from up there.
Maybe he wanted to be a good father, but my mom stopped him. But a good father wouldn’t let anyone stand in his way of being a parent to his child, would they?
The spring breeze is a bit chilly here by the shore. I wish I had the warmth and comfort of my Hermes blanket. I wrap my arms around myself and wait.
Finally, I see him. Accompanied by two men who look like Bachmans, he walks down the boardwalk, a slow smile spreading on his face as he sees me. I stand, in awe that he’s really here.
He looks older, more worn than I remember, but it is him.
“Dad?”
“Lily.”
He approaches me, his arms raised in an awkward way, unsure if he’s supposed to hug me or not. Opting for less contact, I sit down on the bench, patting the open space beside me.
“Have a seat.” I think of Claudia’s love for true crime, realizing I’m not only sitting next to my father, but a wanted criminal.
Thankful for the invitation, he sits next to me. A dull tension settles between us, the sound of seagulls and our silence. I wait for him to speak first. To explain himself.
To take away my pain.
Finally, he says, “So, long time no see.”
“Yes,” I say. “Something like that. Why are you here, Dad?”
He turns his knees toward me, lowering his voice to keep the matter private from the guards. “I want to tell you that I’m sorry. Your mom and I never should have taken off like that. Going to UK, leaving you alone in the US, never contacting you…” He draws in a long breath. “I can’t imagine what that was like for you.”
“Lonely,” I say, the pain coming through my smile.
“I’m sure.” He reaches out like he wants to touch me.
I draw back. “And the jailbreak? How did you manage that?”
