Page 69 of Right in Front of You

Mr. Fowler stood beside Molly, looking down at her as if she were still his small child. Actually, the way he looked at her made me feel uncomfortable. It was as if he were looking at an unfamiliar beautiful woman, not his daughter.

“Hello, sweetheart.” He grinned, poking his yellowed finger at her shoulder. His speech was slurred and the smell of booze oozed off his breath. When he tried to smile, all the while looking down at Molly, I glimpsed his stained yellow-brown teeth with white food clusters stuck between each, and I recoiled. He reached into his back jeans pocket and took a swig of whatever alcohol the flask carried.

“Please leave. We’re trying to have a nice dinner,” Molly said, without looking up, but he of course ignored her.

“It’s been too long, hasn’t it?” he asked. “How’s that slut of a mother of yours?”

I saw Molly’s cheeks shade with embarrassment and my heart squeezed for her.

“There’s no need for that here, Mr. Fowler.” I squared my shoulders. This man was testing every last ounce of my patience. I saw my own father straighten his back as well, and I knew that he was ready to stand up and walk Mr. Fowler out of the restaurant.

“She’s well,” Molly replied quietly.

“I’m only speaking the truth here. We all know that woman sleeps around with whomever she wants. Did you know that doctors are her favorite? Now Molly here, she’s a good girl. She won’t screw just anyone, will you?”

I closed my hands into fists, ready to pounce. At the thought of throwing a good punch his way, I twisted in my seat, and felt a rip at the side. The uncomfortable pull underneath my ribs stopped me and I clenched my jaw.

“Ron, that’s enough. Let’s go outside for a moment.” My father stood up and pushed his chair away from the table.

I could feel the fear that cocooned Molly into a capsule. I’d already despised the man, and today only confirmed that my lack of sympathy or respect for him was founded. The conniving old man had had it in for Molly ever since we were kids, and the level of humiliation he was capable of creating was sickening. How was it ever okay to embarrass your own daughter?

“Mr. Fowler…” I started, but the growl that came off his breath made me recoil. Still, I grabbed my crutches and slowly stood up, pushing in between Molly and him, blocking his access to her. All I wanted right now was for her to feel safe. My father joined me on Mr. Fowler’s other side, and I knew that if push came to shove, he’d have my back.

“What are you trying to do here? She’s my daughter. Get out of the way. I want to talk to her.”

“How about we go outside for a walk?” my father asked.

“I don’t want to walk. I want to talk. I want to remind Miss Molly here where she belongs.”

What the fuck?

“She’s doing great now so it’d be best if you left. How about I buy you another drink?” my father asked. That seemed to get his attention. “Anything you want, Ron. It’s on me.”

Mr. Fowler nodded before heading to the bar with my father. His louder voice earlier must have drawn some attention because the manager came over to our table.

“Was he giving you trouble? It’s his day off today. I had some doubts about hiring him, and if he’s done anything to—”

“No, there was no trouble. We were just catching up,” Molly spoke up.

“All right then. If you need anything, please let me know.” He bowed softly, threw a dirty look Mr. Fowler’s way, and stepped back behind the cash register as my father paid for the drink he purchased.

“Why would you say that? He should be fired.” I braced my arm on the back of Molly’s chair.

“If he gets fired, he’ll go back to Hope Bay and harass Mom. It’s better if he stays away. She’s been doing so well without him. He hasn’t had a job in four years, and now that he does, maybe it will keep him occupied and out of our lives. I know it may not seem like it, but this is better for him, Mom, and me as well.”

“When was the last time you saw him?”

“Maybe a year ago, stumbling along a sidewalk by the hospital.”

“Does he even realize what a great woman you’ve become?”

She shook her head, “It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it matters, Molly. Look at everything you accomplished.”

“Can we just drop it, please?” She raised her voice. Molly never raised her voice. She was the calmest of the calm. “I wanted this to be a nice evening with your parents and now he’s ruined it all.”

“We had a wonderful time, sweetheart.” My mother leaned in. “Children don’t choose their parents. Whatever your father is going through, it’s not your fault.”

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