Helena: Losing the Nameless
My kitchen table is strewn with magazines that have had pages ripped out of them. All of
their covers are of girls in white gowns with bouquets in their hands. I fish through the mess of
articles, trying to find my newspaper.
“Lauren, did you move my newspaper?”
“Dad, I’m on the phone, it’s important!”
Geez, who knew twenty-seven year old daughters would be just as messy as twelve year
old daughters. I finally find my copy of The NY Times, but of course with my luck, I spill my
second cup of coffee all over the paper. Muttering profanities, I rip out a page advertising
David’s Bridal from one of the magazines and I begin sopping up the Op-Ed section I was
reading. In, walks my wife with scrubs on and her blonde hair with streaks of an original
chestnut brown tied back in a tight ponytail.
“Why is this table so sticky?” she asks as she places a bowl of cereal on top Anne
Hathaway’s face.
Ignoring her question I ask, “So, uh, the boss letting you off early today?”
“Hopefully. I swear this man has no consideration for his employees. He knows I was
planning on helping Lauren pick out a dress today. He knows!”
She begins swishing the contents of her bowl very violently, causing some of the milk to
splash out. The thought comes to me that she is actually making the table even more sticky, but I
just keep that to myself.
“Did you remind Jenny to head home right after school?”
“Why would she need to do that?”
“Whaddya mean why? So she can go pick out the dress with you guys! God dam.”
“Well, she already told her sister she wasn’t going.”
“Who told her she had a choice?”
“Lauren, of course.”
I was dumbfounded. How do these two girls of mine do such dumb things. Isn’t this what
sisters look forward to?
“Jerry, tell me what is you’re thinking about.”
“I’m not thinking nothing.”
“Anything Dad, you’re not thinking anything,” says Lauren as she enters the room.
Scrunching the slender nose she got from her mother, and squinty her already tiny brown eyes,
she lets a slight gasp escape her lips.
“Mom! You got milk all over the page I was going to show the ladies at the dress shop!”
“Why didn’t you just use a picture from your phone like regular people of the twenty-first
century?” in walks my second daughter. She is my splitting image if I were twenty-five years
younger and female. She has the same reddish blonde hair, squinty brown eyes, and tough, tan
skin. But her personality is nothing like mine.
“Excuse me young lady, why aren’t you going to help your sister pick out her dress?” I
ask her as she fiddles with the zipper of her Hollister hoodie.
“So what, it’s not like I would have been helpful anyway.”
“It doesn’t matter whether or not you would have been able to help, you have to support
your family! God dam!”
“Whatever, I’m still not going. Gosh, stop acting like such a mom.”
“And what is it exactly that you will be doing instead.”
“I’m going to the movies with Andrew.”
“Seriously, you’re going out to watch a dumb movie with him instead of being with your
sister on one of the most important days of her life? You need to reprioritize my child.”
As I say this she walks out the room, completely ignoring what I was saying to her. I’m
pretty sure it’s that stupid boyfriend of hers that’s making her feel that she shouldn’t spend as
much time with us. He’s some dumb, son of a gun rich kid. I know his type, he’s probably only
earning pocket money by selling drugs. His gang leader is probably on his back about some other
hooligan he needs to take care of, that is unless he is the gang leader. Well that, that would just
be the icing on the cake wouldn’t it?
My thoughts are interrupted by a soft, “Jerry, honey, you better hurry up, you’re going to
be late if you don’t leave now.”
Sighing, I pick up my briefcase and make my descent to the front door. Opening the
mahogany painted red front door, I take one step outside and see my youngest daughter on my
front lawn. She doesn’t notice me step out of the house, she’s too busy facetiming that kid.
Once upon a time I was just like that kid too. But that was way back before I even met
my wife, Maura. I was a member of the Suede Cross Gang. We weren’t like the other gangs, we
didn’t sell drugs or kill people; we stirred up trouble just for the hell of it.We walked the streets
of a boring suburbia, looking for a way to entertain our thick-skulled heads. We used girls like
paper napkins. They were cheap, came in bulk, and were disposable. I was lucky to have met
Maura, because I know that if I didn’t I would amount to nothing, just like the rest of them. I
look at that Andrew kid, and I know he’s up to no good. He has that old look in his eye that I
used to have. He’s not thinking about the future. All he wants is some temporary fun. I refuse to
let my child be a part of that.
That evening when I get out from work, Lauren tries on the wedding dress she chose,
which fits her like a glove. Tears spring to my eyes as memories of her and her sister in little
princess costumes flood my mind. They are no longer little princesses, they are…
“We’re home!”
You have got to be kidding me. How dare she bring him in my home. I feel the heat leave
my face, as my veins pulse and throb in staccato rhythm.
“You idiot, why would you bring Andrew?” Lauren whispers not so subtly.
“Dad let you be with the person you want, I deserve the same.”
“For the last time, you can be with anyone except this nobody! No daughter of mine is
going to end up with a hooligan!”
“But Dad,” her voice begins cracking.
“No, he is just going to use you. He isn’t going to stay forever.”
Maura doesn’t move an inch. She stands by the messy kitchen table with her head facing
the floor. She knows what is happening, and she knows I am speaking the truth.
“I’m old enough to make my own decisions now. I want him to be a part of my life.”
“You don’t know what you want”
“He’s my forever.”
“SHUT UP, GOD DAMN!”
“No! He is the only one that truly cares for me.”
“You ungrateful child! The only one that cares for you? Look at your mother, look at
her!”
By now, Maura had silent tears streaming down her face. She was fiddling with her
wedding ring, and her ponytail was all shriveled.
“SHE is the one that gave birth to you, and sang you bedtime lullabies, and nursed you
when you were sick.”
I then grabbed on to Laura, “And your sister, she has sacrificed so much for you. I don’t
need to remind you of how many times you have cried on her shoulders.”
“But what about you Dad? I can’t even remember what it’s like to hear you say my name.
Who doesn’t say their child’s first name?”
That dummy Andrew finally speaks up.
“Yo, you’re family is crazy. I don’t want to mix with them. I’m out.”
“No, I love you please, I’ll make him understand!”
She runs to him and throws her arms around his waist, but he doesn’t hold her back.
“I only want you, I promise.”
Well if that’s what she wants, then I’m out too.
“So long Youngest Daughter,” I whisper, “Dad is always right.”