Goodbye, Good Girl

by Renee Blossom

  He glanced at the money, then focused on her. “Kandace, stop being ridiculous,” he said and stepped back from the money on the floor.

  “I’m not being ridiculous, you are!”

  “Honey, I’ve told you to stop working as a prostitute. How’s that for unreasonable?”

  “I’m not a prostitute! I’m dancing.”

  “You’re doing way more than dance in those clubs to make that kind of money.”

  Kandace screwed up her face. “Yeah. I’m sure you’re experienced there, Dad. And for your information, it’s topless only at most clubs. Some people go to the beach like that.”

  “Not my daughter.”

  Kandace retrieved her money and held it as a stack. “I didn’t come find you so you could control my life, you know. Mom’s always tight and you keep promising you’ll help with school, but I can’t see that happening.”

  “Fine. I’ll send more each month, if that’s what it takes,” he said. “Your mom hasn’t said anything.”

  Kandace made a face. “Oh, great. You’ll work more to cover that.”

  “If you go back to dancing… I know people and with one phone call, your employers can all find themselves out of business.”

  “You have no right to demand that of me. Not when you can’t be around at all. And for your information, I like dancing. I like how I’m treated. I like the money.”

  “It’s legalized prostitution. You might think it’s no big deal, but I know damn well what goes on inside those walls. It’s no place for you.”

  “I had no idea you were a customer.”

  “In my youth, I did stupid things and I’m trying to save you from yourself. I hope you see that.”

  Kandace shoved her money in her purse and realized how insecure it felt—how anyone could take it. She felt like her life held together by a thread. She thought about all the reasons she should just let herself cry, but she refused to. She was tired of crying. She was tired of fighting all the time for what she wanted.

  And she understood exactly what that was. “I think it’s time I left.”

  “What are you saying, Kandace? You want to go home all of a sudden? To Pittsburgh?”

  “I mean I just want to go.”

  Her dad was speechless and Kandace sat, watching a cold cup of coffee sit on the table. She had the hotel room they forgot to check out of. She could hit the beach and make a vacation of her time in LA. Fun by day, dance by night. She could go back to Pittsburgh when she felt ready, on her own terms.

  She did what she set out to do: find her father and make sure he was safe. And ask him to come home, become a family again.

  He’d answered her main question. Clearly.

  All she wanted was to be independent and treated as an adult.

  Was she asking too much?

  She packed and hoped April was doing the same.

  Suitcase ready, Kandace left it in her room and ventured out, looking for her father. She found him where she had left him, in a chair, in the backyard.

  “Kandace,” he said, “I don’t want you to leave. We’re having a disagreement and it’s normal. Families do that. We can work this out.”

  “Dad, I don’t think I can be who you want. You’re asking me to quit being me. I’m not ready to give up. I can’t quit dancing. Not yet. Maybe in a year. Maybe in a couple months. I don’t know. One day at a time, right?”

  He looked lost. And confused. “K, it’s not about what you want. That’s not life. It isn’t all about getting everything you think you should.”

  “I’m not suddenly this totally different person because I dance at night.”

  “You must not be hearing me,” he said, hesitating. “I’ve already lost my good girl. I can’t stand to lose my daughter too.”

  Kandace held her breath and watched him a moment. That’s it. “Bye, Dad.”

  She met April at the car. Though she didn’t say anything, Kandace could tell her friend was thinking, I told you so while loading luggage into the VW’s trunk.

  Why did he have to ruin everything?

  “You gonna be okay, Small Town?” April asked, once they were away from the curb.

  “I think. Happy tears, right? Happy tears. I’m moving on from him. He’s never been around. Not really available. It’s time I accepted reality. I can’t make him be my Dad any more than he can make me be his perfect duty daughter.”

  “All right, girl. Do what makes you happy and cut out the rest. It’s not worth it to get all worked up over him if he’s just going to let you down.”

  “Don’t I know that. It’s beach time.”

  They parked at the public beach parking while guys unloaded surfboards from the top of an SUV. They changed in the car. The morning weather was a little cool, but the sun made it work.

  “These boards are a blast,” Kandace said. “How far out should we go?”

  “We’re good. I can barely touch here. We gotta be able to stand a little, so you can jump into the wave.”

  “Waves are kinda big.”

  “High tide,” April said, spitting water.

  “I like it.”

  “Hey, I’m sorry about your dad.”

  Kandace paused a beat, watching the endless horizon. “Me too. I’m trying not to think about him, actually. I don't know what to do. I wish he’d accept that we won’t agree.”

  “Do you think your mom will talk to him?”

  “I know she will. Can’t say he will listen. But there’s hope.”

  “I can’t imagine what that feels like,” April said, adjusting her position on her board, sliding herself closer to the nose.

  Sunset came too soon. They rinsed off, removing all the sand they could, though some clung on still. Boards over their shoulders, they walked back to the car. Next, Kandace traded in her old phone for a new one. She hadn’t made it out of the Verizon store as it blew up with messages, voicemail, social media notifications from friends at home. She didn’t feel like she was missing much, but the posts reminded her that home still existed.

  “Should we take a selfie?” she asked April.

  April was agreeable, striking a pose as Kandace took a picture of the two of them, the palm trees dancing in the background, the sea looking as gorgeous as the subjects. She posted it to her social media account and figured it would get a ton of likes. And comments.

  It was time the world knew the real Kandace.

  Her father hadn’t called or texted, but her mother had several times, all in the last hour.

  She must know.

  April found a cozy restaurant near the beach and Kandace decided, after dinner and dessert, to FaceTime her mother first, then her sisters.

  “Kandace! Are you okay, honey?” Ginger asked.

  “I’m good, Mom. How are you doing? How’s rehab?”

  “They are trying to fix me, one day at a time. I’ve got exercises each morning and therapy all afternoon, but it’s slow going. Progress. But slow. Are you at the beach?”

  “Yeah. Can you hear the ocean?”

  “Oh, yes. I can hear those waves crashing. You must be pretty close to the shore.”

  “I’m at a restaurant along the water. We spent all day sunning and riding waves. It was a blast.”

  “That’s nice. I’m glad you’re having fun. You should know your father is taking your leaving very hard. You need time to yourself, but keep in mind, you’ve broken your father’s heart.”

  Now I feel horrible.

  “He wasn’t listening, Mom. I don’t know what to do about him.”

  “I think he’s looking out for you, Kandy. He wants what is best for you.”

  “He called me a whore.”

  Ginger sighed and looked away from the screen. “Love, he wants you to be safe.” She blinked quickly and moved the phone away from herself, changing her arm position. “Don’t forget that your father… he protects you. He’s doing his job.”

  “According to him. He’s missing the point. That it’s my life. He’s trying
to make me miserable.”

  “You weren’t miserable in Pittsburgh. You love your studio, your friends. Your sisters.”

  Kandace sipped her coffee and set the cup aside on the table, hoping for a refill from their server. She turned the phone toward the ocean. “Can you see? The shore is like twenty feet or so out there. It’s kinda dark, but you can see it a little in the moonlight.”

  “I see it. It is pretty.”

  “Have you been back to the house? Since last weekend?” Kandace asked.

  “I returned briefly to collect my things. I noticed most of my pills were missing, then I found the bottles and broken plastic in the trash downstairs. You flushed my pills again?”

  “The pain killers aren’t fixing you, Mom. It’s too dangerous.”

  She smiled. “That’s your father in you. Trying to protect me from myself.” When Kandace didn’t say anything, she continued, “How long will you stay in Los Angeles?”

  “I’m not for sure, yet.”

  “I figured you would stay with your dad as long as possible.” She paused a moment. “I do hope you can make amends with him before he has to leave.”

  “He talked about moving us to LA.”

  Ginger smiled, but it was sad. “He’s booked solid for at least the next two years. Few weeks off here and there, but not much.”

  Kandace sat back, her phone slipped to her lap. “He didn’t tell me that.” She picked up the phone and wiped at her eyes.

  “He can’t say much,” Ginger said. “Listen, baby, I need to sleep. I love you. Be safe.”

  “Love you back,” Kandace said and waved. Her mother’s smiling face froze on her screen, the red phone icon highlighted. She was gone.

  April sat sideways, watching the ocean in the distance, a bemused expression on her face.

  “What?” Kandace asked.

  “You have a unique relationship with your mom. She understands you and knows when to push and when to shut up.”

  “She’s awesome like that. I feel horrible for her. She’s in a ton of pain, two back surgeries. The first fixed the major problems. She’d have been paralyzed without that one. Still couldn’t move for months. This last surgery was supposed to reduce her pain, like… two weeks ago, but she went back to the hospital for going overboard on pain meds.”

  “Damn. Her back?”

  “Spinal cord. The doctors really don’t explain all that much to me.”

  “Car accident, right?”Kandace nodded, calling Coral’s cell phone. She answered right away.

  “Kandace! Where’ve you been?” her sister asked, her face too close to the screen so that Coral’s lips took up most of the phone’s five and a half inch display. “We’re driving back to V’s house—hey! Mom told me you found dad! How’s he doing?”

  It’s okay. Breathe.

  Kandace could hear Vivian taking in the background, her voice growing in volume and venom by the passing moment. “Dad’s… dad. He’s busy, but I think he’s okay. He grew a beard. He’s in better shape.”

  “Really? Daddy has a beard? Like, full beard or partial… what’s that called?”

  Kandace cracked up, as Coral kept moving her phone around, the world on her end spinning out of control. “Can you hold the phone still?”

  “Yeah. I’ve got it. Amelia was fighting me, but that’s all over now,” Coral said and the screen went black, a thud, then scratching sounds, moving darkness, then Coral’s face came back into view. “Don’t laugh. I dropped the phone.”

  “That phone can’t survive you, sister.”

  “I got a new case on it. It’s waterproof!”

  “Then it has a chance. It won’t survive any other way. Did Mom say much?”

  Coral shook her head, her eyes darting between the camera and the screen. “She said you found Dad in California. I guess he talked to Mom about flying me and Amelia out to see him while he’s there, but I don’t know if that’s happening with school and all. Where are you at? Do you get to stay in a hotel?”

  Kandace sighed. He’ll break their hearts too. “I’m at the beach, at dinner. See?” Kandace said, turning her phone for her sister to see the shore, glistening in the moonlight. “Pretty, huh?”

  “It’s beautiful, K. So, when are you coming home?”

  Kandace turned the phone back to her face and smiled for her sister. “I don’t know when I can leave all this beauty.”

  “I’ll bet you could stay forever,” Coral said.

  “Yeah. I’ve thought that. But it’s super crowded and expensive.”

  “Tell me more about Dad,” Coral said. “Has he taken you anywhere yet?”

  Kandace smiled, holding tight to the good memories—the dinner at the shore minus their conversation, their games afterward and their laughter. It was both magical and revealing in all the wrong ways. And some right ways. It was a meeting of their cherished past and their present futures––going very different directions. Her father wasn’t coming to Pittsburgh. Possibly not ever again. And he knew that, but refused to confess.

  He wasn’t in a rush to go home; why should she?

  Kandace forced a smile for her sister. “He took me to an oceanside dinner. It was at a fancy restaurant on the pier, ships in the harbor. Seafood. We watched the sunset from our table.”

  Coral smiled, but seemed suddenly reserved. “Did he tell you if he’s coming home?”

  Kandace felt guilty at the thought of telling her sister anything but the truth. She’d been told she was getting to come to California. Knowing her father had only weeks off in the next two years for openings, it left little to wonder about.

  “He didn’t say his plans to me,” Kandace said and paused to think that statement through. “He said he has a couple days off, though. If I remember right.” Kandace hoped she didn’t pollute Coral’s relationship with their father, but she didn’t want to give her young sister false hope either. “I would say ask him when you get to talk with him.”

  “I’ll try him again tomorrow when we visit with Mom,” Coral said.

  Kandace made a face and wished she hadn’t. “Welcome to my world. He lost it, I learned. Say, tell me about the tournament.”

  Coral elaborated on her tournament games, the ups and downs of bracket play in competitive soccer, until April, while staring at her phone, whistled and suddenly got animated.

  Kandace wrapped her conversation with Coral and asked April, “What the heck?”

  “Cardinals won!” she said. “Game six! Back home! Tuesday night, baby!” April stomped her feet under the table.

  “Oh. Tank Tuesday. NLCS in town. So, back to St. Louis so soon?”

  “That game will bring big crowds. Huge. Teddy is having like maybe ten dancers body-painted, baseball theme of course. He’s taking names.”

  “You’re going for it?”

  “Hells yeah. The girls that get painted are booked for private parties in the member rooms. Easy ten grand night. Might set my personal best.”

  Kandace studied April a beat, then watched the ocean, listening to its soothing roar. “When do we leave?”

  “Thinking now. It’s twenty-four hours driving. If we haul ass, we’ll be home late Monday night or early Tuesday morning.”

  Kandace nodded and watched the waves. She had arrived on Friday. She had loved the beach. She had found her father. And barely more than a day after reaching her goal, she was leaving again.

  “We should come back here.”

  April didn’t say anything for a moment. “I thought you’d moved on from your dad.”

  “I have. Sort of. Do we ever really move on? Do we ever totally heal from that kind of hurt with family?”

  Neither said anything for a long time, just watched the water in the moonlight distance, the wind at their faces.

  Kandace stood and slung her purse. “Shall we hit the road?”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure. I need to make money, pay back Teddy for the car and for school in January. Registration is next mo
nth.”

  April rose quickly. “Let’s roll, Santellan. The road beckons.”

  29

  Kandace and April alternated driving every four hours. The non-driver got DJ duty. No exceptions. Bathroom stops were scheduled based on mileage and available freeway exit. Driver picked the gas station and restaurant. April called it Road Trip Law. Kandace was fine with any policy that kept them from falling asleep at the wheel.

  She struggled still to name her car, returning to Moonrock at each attempt. April was of little help, other than to offer dirty suggestions for an hour of entertainment value.

  The girls arrived in St. Louis at 3:30 on Tuesday morning and slept hard at April’s apartment until the afternoon, when a phone call from Teddy woke them. They had to make it to the studio no later than four if they wanted to be body-painted for the night—an opportunity April wasn’t about to miss.

  Painted as baseball players in loose fit jerseys and shorts, they donned silk robes and garnered admiration as they entered backstage. The other painted dancers each had their own artistic designs of a baseball uniform painted to skin canvas. April and Kandace were catcalled all the way to glamour for makeup and hair. On returning to her station, Kandace found Noel, passing out gift bags.

  “Hey there, Autumn! Nice to see you!” Noel said, waiting for a hug. “Hey, you got painted? That’s fun!”

  “Yeah, so I get to dance naked the whole night.” She laughed. “Everyone wanted the Cardinals and they said at least a couple dancers had to don the away team, so I’m in Giants garb.”

  Noel’s pearly teeth beamed. “Perish the thought,” she said, showing her palms. “Trust me. You’ll be just fine. Good job being a team player.”

  Kandace got excited, slipping off her robe and tossing it on her chair. “Get a load of this paint job. Crazy, huh? They took, like, two hours to paint me. It’s super trippy.”

  “Lovely, Autumn,” Noel said, watching Kandace spin around. “Boy, they are very detailed. Nice touch that they added your name to the back of your jersey.”