As usual, death around me gets me to thinking about how things Coulda Been... so, I've got two more for you all to look at now. You probably were expecting one, but I found myself with two in me. Sorry about that. Up side is that these two aren't as anchored in real-world kernels as the others. More like things that Coulda eventually happened and just never did. Well, here's one not-so-raw, first...
by Edeyn Hannah Blackeney
Note: This is dedicated to the memory of John Lee Galyen.
My Dad (Stepfather).
2 September 1951 - 21 April 2006.
This didn't happen. The real story is less proactive, but really... this is what might have been in different circumstances. There's a kernel of the relationships at work here, but...
"Yeah. That un. Looks good. Let's go."
"Daaad! You didn't even LOOK at me! You're supposed to help me pick a dress for the Induction, not just stare at your tennis shoes, y'know."
"Sorry. It really does look larruppin' good. Cain't picture one a'lookin' better on yuh. Don't even care what th' cost, 'cause it's durn-near perfect."
I scowled at him. My stepfather was more of a Dad to me than my biological father ever could or would be, but he was still so... augh. He was such an old-fashioned fart sometimes. It was Spring 1993, and I was about to be inducted into the National Honor Society.
"Dad. Stop. Look at me."
I waited for him to actually look up with his sheepish smirk and take a sip from his coffee cup, then I did a slow 360 ° turn so he could see the cut across my back -- or lack thereof -- and wasn't really surprised when I finished and he was staring at his shoes again when I got turned all the way around.
"You. Are. ImPOSSible!"
He grinned at me again.
"Well, it's jus' this place is so dang... girly. T'aint right for a man t'be in here t'all, let 'lone jus' sippin' coffee and watchin' like that. Seems indecent."
"You're my dad. Everyone in here knows that. You don't have to worry about whether they think you're a pervert. I don't want to settle for 'durn-near' perfect, I want the PERFECT dress for this Induction. You said you wanted to see what you were paying for before you paid for it, so the only solution is for you to help me pick out the right gown. Right?"
"Yeah. Ah know. Makes sense. Still don' feel right, though."
"Just... forget I'm your daughter for awhile and tell me what looks best!"
He looked confused for a moment, but the twinkle in his eyes told me it was a put on.
"But ah thought you didn' WANT me t'fergit that yer a daughter?"
"I see why Mom says you're the most frustrating man in the world. You love torturing us, don't you?"
He giggled (yes, giggled... he was a giggle and not a chuckle person) and took another sip from his ever-present coffee mug.
"You..."
Realization dawned. D'oh-eth.
"You're doing this on PURPOSE!"
"Wonert when yewd figger t'out. Hmph. Ain't you s'posed t'be th' smart'un? Figgered if I'm payin' I'll get muh money worth outta makin' smoke come outta yourn ears."
"Dad! You...!"
He laughed, and in spite of myself, I laughed along with him.
"Just you wait, old man..."
"What, you gonna make me lissin to yer weirdo music on the way home? Yewd do that innyways."
I arched an eyebrow at him.
"You do realize... this was only the first dress. There are HUNDREDS of dresses in awesome colors and styles in my size in this shop alone, let alone the other three shops in the mall."
The color drained from his face as I threw back my head and cackled (much to the consternation of the salesladies and the other women in the shop).
