Mack Daddy

by Penelope Ward

  Exhausted, the last thing I wanted was to hear a knock at the door.

  When I opened it, my father was standing there, dressed in a three-piece suit, and holding a large envelope.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “That’s not exactly a warm welcome, son,” he said as he moved past me, barging his way into my apartment.

  “Well, it’s been a long day. I can do without an interrogation. You should’ve called first.”

  “I have something important to talk to you about, and it couldn’t wait.”

  “Why can’t it wait?”

  He took a seat. “You know I’m very fond of Torrie. She’s worked extremely hard for me, and I’ve never understood why you’ve chosen to abandon her and your son.”

  “I don’t have to justify anything to you. I’m a better father to Jonah than you ever were to me. I’m present in his life, at least. In no way have I abandoned him. I don’t appreciate you walking in here and judging me in my own house.”

  He looked around. “This is supposed to be a house?”

  “It’s temporary.”

  “Torrie told me about this other woman—Francesca O’Hara. It pains me to see the mother of your child so upset and feeling betrayed.”

  “You don’t need to know anything about Frankie. It’s none of your concern.”

  “Frankie?” He furrowed his brow. “Cute name. Anyway, I’m afraid Torrie and my grandson are my business. So, I do need to know about anything that destroys their happiness. When someone comes along and disrupts my family structure, hurts the people who are important to me, it does matter greatly to me.”

  “Since when is your family important to you? You’re just getting involved in this to fuck with me because you’re disappointed that you can’t control me anymore. And Frankie’s done nothing to hurt anyone. My relationship with Torrie wouldn’t have lasted. My happiness with someone else is none of anyone’s concern.”

  “You think you really know this woman? You’ve turned your entire life upside down for someone you know nothing about.”

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but I know everything there is to know about her. She’s a kind, beautiful human being and a phenomenal teacher. And I knew her years before any of you ever found out about her.”

  “What if I told you that I have proof that you have no real clue whom you’ve been getting involved with all of this time?”

  Anger was penetrating my bones. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “I did a little research on her.”

  That was code for a thorough investigation.

  “You had no right to do that.”

  I seriously wanted to injure my own father. His connections meant that he could get access to almost anyone’s most personal information very easily. I knew he was full of shit, though. There was absolutely nothing he could have dug up on Frankie that would have come as a surprise to me. But the very fact that he even tried to do that was disturbing, to say the least.

  “You might want to take a look at this.” He handed me a manila envelope.

  I snatched it and looked inside, finding a series of articles from a Philadelphia newspaper. The dates were all from the 1990s. One headline read: Freddie Higgins Charged in McCabe Murder.

  “What the fuck is this? What does it have to do with her?”

  “It’s your girlfriend’s family album.”

  I sat down, staring at the papers. “What are you talking about?”

  “Francesca O’Hara is the illegitimate child of Karen O’Hara and Freddie Higgins, a convicted felon currently serving life in a Philadelphia penitentiary for murder.”

  “Frankie doesn’t know who her father is. She doesn’t even know his name.”

  “There’s a copy of her birth certificate there as well. You can see Frederick Higgins is listed.”

  “She was born in Boston not Philly. How do you know this is the same Francesca O’Hara? There are probably many people with that name.”

  “Do you really need to question my ability to verify information, Mackenzie? You know I have my ways. This has been authenticated by multiple sources. I can tell you everything you need to know about this girl, whom you’ve thrown away your family for. She currently lives on Cambridge Street in Boston, went to South Boston High School, graduated from Boston University. What else do you want to know? I’ll tell you.”

  Filled with dread, I now suspected that there could be truth to this; I just didn’t want to believe it.

  “Okay, so what if this guy is her actual birth father? She’s had nothing to do with him. What’s your point? What are you gonna do?”

  “I’ll do nothing if you do the right thing, do right by your family. This will stay between us.”

  “You’re blackmailing me?”

  “If you continue to see her, continue to live your life separately from your family, this could go public—that you’re dating the daughter of a reputed mobster. He’s a convicted murderer, Mack. These people are dangerous.”

  “You’re lying. You wouldn’t let this get out. You wouldn’t allow something like this to come out and ruin your precious reputation.”

  “You’re missing the point. It’s not my reputation that would be at stake if this came out. It’s Frankie’s life. Do you realize how many people Freddie Higgins must have pissed off? Karen O’Hara had to flee Pennsylvania with her family to protect, not only them, but the life of her newborn child. I don’t think you want to take the risk of this getting out. If these people find out that he has a daughter and figure out her whereabouts, she immediately becomes a target. The crime family of Freddie’s victim is still very much active today. It’s a huge criminal network, spanning from southern New Jersey to northern Philly. In fact, it’s larger today than it was back then. You talk to anyone on the streets there, and they know who Freddie Higgins and Timothy McCabe are. All the information is in that envelope. I wish I could say I was making it up, but I’m not.” He pointed his finger at me. “No one will find out about her connection to Higgins if you stop seeing her and focus on your family.”

  “That’s not an option.”

  “Then, I do nothing to protect this information.”

  “Boy…I always knew you didn’t really give two shits about my well-being, but out of all of the nasty things you’ve ever said or done, this has got to be the lowest.”

  “Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, Mackenzie. I didn’t bring this into our lives. You did. So, I’ll let you figure out how you’d like to handle it.”

  After my father left, the panic started to really set in. Speechless, I just sat in my kitchen for an indeterminate amount of time. I had no idea what to do. I couldn’t keep this information from Frankie, but at the same time, I felt the need to protect her from it all. I didn’t know if I believed that my father would actually go public with it. It could have been an empty threat, but there was no way to be certain.

  On one hand, he was far too vain to let something like this tarnish his reputation. On the other hand, if he didn’t go public with it, he could’ve still let dangerous people know her whereabouts.

  Aside from the day I found out Torrie was pregnant, I’d never felt more helpless in my life. I couldn’t even ask anyone for advice, since I didn’t want a single soul to know about this.

  Paralyzed by shock, I was still sitting in the same spot in my kitchen nearly an hour later. The only difference was that the small amount of daylight that had been peeking through the window was now replaced by sheer darkness.

  When my phone rang, I picked it up, not knowing how to react to her.

  “Hi, Frankie.”

  “Are you okay?” It amazed me that she could sense that something was off, even though I’d only said two words.

  “This move back has been tougher than I thought. I miss you.”

  “I miss you, too. I went to visit Mrs. M. today.”

  “You did?”

  “Yeah. I know you can’t look out for her anymore
. So, I stopped by to see if she needed anything.”

  “Thank you. That was really nice of you. I appreciate it.”

  “She sends you her love and a virtual rum and Coke.”

  I thought my life had been difficult before. I would’ve given anything to just go back a month or two, lamenting to Mrs. M. about getting Frankie back. Anything was better than the current dilemma.

  “I keep fantasizing about our time in the supply closet,” Frankie said.

  I closed my eyes. I would’ve given anything to go back to that moment in time right now, too.

  “I’ve been holding onto that,” I said. “And holding onto myself for that matter.” I’d tried to joke around so she wouldn’t suspect something was seriously off with me.

  “Not for long. I was thinking of coming there next weekend.”

  Oh, shit.

  “Really?”

  “Is that not gonna work?”

  “Believe me, I want to see you more than anything. I just want to make sure I’m prepared. This apartment is not very homey.”

  “It’ll feel like the old days. Is there a dingy basement where we could do laundry?”

  “Actually, I don’t even have a washing machine in this temporary housing. I will have to go to the laundromat.”

  “We can go together.”

  I couldn’t tell her not to come.

  “It doesn’t matter where we are. As long as I’m with you, that’s all that matters, Frankie.”

  “Soon. Okay?”

  After we hung up, the sickness in my stomach kicked in. I knew I couldn’t keep the information about her father from her. I’d promised myself I would tell her in person the next chance I got. Unfortunately, that day would be coming faster than I was ready for.

  My flight was booked for my weekend trip to D.C., and I was going to see an apartment after work tomorrow. Things were finally moving forward.

  Amazingly, Victor and I were getting along pretty well. He’d begun joining me for breakfast again in the mornings. We kept our separate ways at the end of each day overall, but it was comforting to know we weren’t going to be ending things on horrible terms. We were speaking, at least.

  Wednesday evening, Vic and I crossed paths when he walked in the door from work. I was in the kitchen about to make some tea.

  “You got a FedEx package,” he said.

  “Really? I didn’t see it on the way in.”

  “Sometimes they deliver late in the day. They must have just left it at the door.”

  “Thank you,” I said, taking the package from him.

  Included in the envelope was a letter and a series of Xeroxed newspaper articles. The letterhead said From the Office of Senator Michael J. Morrison at the top. My heart began to palpitate.

  Dear Francesca,

  My reason for writing you is two-fold. As Senator Morrison gears up for re-election and the possibility of a future run for president, it’s my job as one of his top advisers to see to the well-being of his career, in addition the well-being of his family—which happens to also be my family. Given your inappropriate relationship with the father of my child, as due practice, it’s extremely important that we fully investigate any associates of Senator Morrison or any associates of the Morrison family.

  A thorough investigation into your birth records and family history has uncovered a troubling finding regarding the identity of your father.

  You are the only child of Frederick Higgins, an inmate currently serving a life sentence for extortion, narcotics, illegal gambling, murder, and conspiracy to commit murder. He was a member of Philadelphia’s Irish mob. Your mother, Karen O’Hara, fled Philadelphia shortly after you were born. Included in this package is a copy of your birth certificate with Frederick Higgins named as the father. Also included are numerous press articles in regards to his trial and subsequent conviction.

  This information is troubling to me on many levels, namely the fact that if your identity ever becomes known publicly, there is a very serious chance that you could be in danger. This in turn would put my family in danger so long as you are associating with Mackenzie.

  While Senator Morrison has no intention of bringing this news to light, he cannot control what information his political rivals may uncover. It didn’t take much for us to dig up this information, which disturbing as it may be, is par for the course in this day and age. It therefore wouldn’t take long for someone else to uncover it, as well. When that happens, it will not only put your life in danger, but the lives of my loved ones, including my son. And I cannot stand for that.

  Mackenzie has known about the identity of your father for several days now. I’m sure he, too, is weighing what this means for his relationship with you in the long-term. I trust he will eventually draw the right conclusion, one that will be in the best interest of his child.

  Do what you may with this information. But if you care for Mackenzie or care at all for my son, I hope you make the right decision.

  Sincerely,

  Torrie Hightower

  My head was throbbing so hard, and my vision felt blurry. I could barely make out the sound of Victor’s voice.

  He sounded muffled, as if he were talking through a cup even though he was right in front of me. “Francesca, what’s wrong?”

  My hands were shaking as I handed him the letter.

  After reading it and sifting through the articles, he pulled me into his arms and held onto me tightly.

  “It’s going to be okay.”

  “I can’t breathe,” I said, practically wheezing.

  “Try. Try to breathe. We’re gonna handle this. We’ll confirm whether it’s true. And if it is, we will deal with it.”

  Too afraid to see my supposed father’s face, I hadn’t even been able to look at the newspaper clippings.

  “First step…we need to get your mother over here. Only she can confirm what’s true and what’s not.”

  “I can’t face her right now.”

  “You have to, Francesca. Will you be able to sleep tonight if you don’t?

  Letting out a long, shaky breath, I said, “Probably not.”

  “I’m going to call her. Okay? Can I do that? I won’t divulge the reason…just that we need her to come by, to discuss something with her.”

  Hanging onto a chair for balance, I nodded. “Yes.”

  Victor retreated to the den to call my mother. I couldn’t fathom the possibility that the person I had trusted most in this world had lied to me all these years. This news was just devastating on so many different levels.

  After Victor returned to the kitchen, he came up behind me and massaged my shoulders slowly. “Take a deep breath. I’m gonna make you some tea. I want you to drink it down and try to clear your mind until she gets here.”

  Vic went over to the stove to boil water and prepared two steaming mugs.

  He then sat with me as we drank the tea in silence while he rubbed my back.

  “If you can’t speak, I’ll do the talking for you, okay?” he said, reaching over and taking my hand in his.

  It was the first time tears started to fill my eyes. The fact that after everything I’d done, Victor was so comforting to me touched me beyond words. I didn’t know what I would have done if I were alone when that envelope arrived. His being there for me was like being thrown a life raft after getting suddenly tossed overboard.

  When the doorbell rang, I jumped. Victor placed his hand on my shoulder. “You stay here. I’ll let her in.”

  My mother’s dark hair looked windblown, and her nose was red from the cold. She was wearing her typical bright, neon pink lipstick. I knew she had no clue why we’d called her here. She was probably even more confused by the fact that Victor was involved when we were supposedly broken up.

  “What’s going on? Why have you been crying?” She approached me. “Are you pregnant?”

  “Please sit, Karen,” Victor said.

  He handed my mother the envelope, the contents of which said it all.

&n
bsp; Her lips quivered as she closed her eyes and collapsed down onto one of our kitchen chairs. “Oh, God,” she whispered, covering her mouth and repeated, “Oh, my God.”

  My body was starting to tremble. “So, it’s true?”

  She just kept nodding for a while before she finally said, “Yes.”

  Tears were now pouring down my cheeks in a steady flow. “How could you have kept this from me?”

  “There’s so much to explain, Francesca. But please know…it’s all been to protect you. I don’t even know where to begin.”

  “You can start from the beginning,” I cried.

  Victor put his arm around me for support as my mother began to speak.

  “I know I’ve led you to believe that you were born in Boston, that my family is from here, but I actually grew up in a section of Philadelphia called Kensington. My grandfather, Patrick, was involved in the local Irish mob.”

  She rubbed her eyes and continued, “When I met Freddie, he was one of your granddad’s acquaintances. He was much younger and better looking than most of the men who’d come around, but he was older than me by five years. I was seventeen. He was twenty-two. He really wanted to change, get out of the mob, but he was in too deep. It was the only world he’d ever known. I do believe that deep down he was a good person, but he got caught up in it with no way out. He was forced to do some terrible things.”

  I just shook my head and muttered, “I can’t believe this.”

  She went on. “His own life would’ve been on the line if he didn’t adhere to what he was told to do. That didn’t make it right, but that was the way it was. I almost didn’t tell him I was pregnant, but I couldn’t live with the guilt. He wanted to be a part of your life, but by the time you were born, it was just too dangerous. Someone would have killed us—you and me. My parents did what they felt they had to. They moved to Boston and took us with them. We were lucky that no one had really caught on to my pregnancy. No one ever followed us to Boston. Freddie didn’t tell anyone about you being born because he knew that it would put you in danger. I chose not to tell you who your father was for your own safety. I was afraid you’d go against me someday and try to see him. Even though he’s in jail, those people have ways of finding certain things out. There are a lot of informants in prison. So, telling you was just too big of a risk because if anyone were to know about you, they could try to come after you to get back at Freddie.”