Ginny
2000, Fort Lauderdale (After the Execution)
I’d never felt so invigorated and optimistic after that first trip to the shooting range with Mimi, and the long walk at a local park that followed it.
Tommy had retrieved my guns from the safe like I’d asked him. As I stood in front of the desk in his office and loaded up my range bag with everything we’d need, I could feel his eyes boring into me.
“I’m sorry for telling her what you told me,” I said without looking at him.
He didn’t reply. I stopped what I was doing and looked at him. He didn’t say anything, just stared at me. He looked hurt and unsure of himself.
“No.” My jaw tightened, and I thrust a pair of shooting glasses into the bag. “I take that back. I’m not sorry. I’m tired of being sorry, Tommy. I’m not apologizing for anything anymore.”
“It’s okay, Gin,” he said softly. “I’m just worried she won’t trust me anymore.”
“Well, don’t worry about it. I’m going to have a nice long talk with our daughter today. I’m going to start at the beginning, and we either move forward from here, or we don’t. I’m tired of tiptoeing around my past. I’m tired of tiptoeing around Grizz. Yeah, I said it. The name that’s always been the elephant in the room. Not even the room—every room. The name that’s been lurking around every corner threatening to ruin our happily ever after. I’m so over this, Tommy.”
He smiled at me then, and his expression instantly changed. I thought I knew what he was going to say.
“Does she know the other thing? About you being his son?” I whispered.
The ticking of the grandfather clock sounded louder than it usually did, its steady heartbeat filling the space between us.
“We hadn’t gotten that far, Gin. Leslie could’ve told her, but I doubt it. Mimi told me they’ve had no contact since about three weeks before Grizz died. I’m guessing that’s about the time Grizz beat the shit out of Leslie at the prison. Mimi even admitted she tried to find out from Leslie when the article would be coming out, but the woman has flat-out ignored her.”
I nodded. Good. Leslie took whatever threat Grizz had issued seriously. She was smart to retreat.
I hoisted my bag onto my shoulder and gave Tommy a level look.
“We’re still telling her. You know that, right? I won’t even try to go there today with her, but we will tell her. It’s something we should do together.”
I watched as Tommy ran his hand through his hair. He let out a resigned sigh.
“I can’t say I’m looking forward to that, but yeah, fine. We’ll tell her, Gin. We’ll tell her together.”
I could see the worry and doubt in his expression and my heart ached for him. I walked toward him, kissed him lightly on the lips. The stubble on his chin grazed my own, and I realized my earlier anger had dissolved and was transforming into something else. I was feeling hopeful. Hopeful of a future without secrets. A future where the barrier Mimi had erected, through no fault of hers, was broken down.
I couldn’t blame her for pulling back from us after finding out about Grizz. I should’ve known our past would catch up with us, and if I hadn’t tried to avoid it, I wouldn’t be struggling right now to make things whole again. I wouldn’t have lost three years with my daughter.
As I let myself ponder these things, I could feel something else creeping into my consciousness. It was a feeling I’d not had too much experience with, so I wasn’t sure if it was real or a defense mechanism against my deep-rooted pain of Grizz’s rejection. I could feel an unsettling darkness seeping in. If I didn’t deal with it, it would most certainly rear its ugly head. I thought about the man responsible for all of this, and I congratulated myself for throwing away that bandana.
It’s a good thing you’re not around anymore, Grizz. It’s a good thing you chose to reject me and live the rest of your life away from me.
Tommy must have noticed a change in my expression because he looked down at me, his hands resting on my shoulders.
“What is it, Gin? What are you thinking?”
I stared at a spot on the wall over his left shoulder and, without looking him in the eyes, I answered him in a voice void of emotion.
“I was thinking that if Grizz wasn’t already dead, I’d think about shooting him myself.”
Without waiting for Tommy to reply, I spun and headed toward the front door, shouting, “Mimi, let’s go! I’ll be in the car.”
**********
As we approached the first stop sign in our neighborhood, and before allowing any awkward silences to come between us, I dove in headfirst with Mimi.
“Let’s start with Leslie. I know you talked to her, and I’m sure she shared some of the things I told her with you. I also know the article won’t be coming out.” I glanced at Mimi, who looked slightly surprised. “Tell me how you and Leslie found each other.”
Mimi plunged right in, starting with her first encounter with Leslie at a mall. She was only partway through when my cell phone interrupted us. Mimi looked at it.
“It’s Dad.”
I asked her to put the phone on speaker.
“Hey. You’re on speaker,” I told Tommy.
“Listen, I just wanted to let you know my day changed up a little. I was going to take Jason to practice and stay with him, but Sarah Jo called and wants me to meet her for lunch,” he said.
“Is something wrong with her?” Concern prickled at the edge of my thoughts. I was still focused on my conversation with Mimi.
“No, I don’t think anything’s wrong. I think she may just want to talk about her move and some of Stan’s options.”
This was understandable, but I may have been feeling slightly hurt. I’d reached out to Jo more than once since Grizz’s execution, and she was always busy. I was probably being overly sensitive. Besides, Tommy had done extensive traveling outside the U.S. over the years, and Jo may have just wanted his opinion about some of the places he’d visited. Tommy and Jo had been best friends long before I came on the scene—and I was doing something much more important.
“Well, tell her I still don’t want her to move and that I’m giving you a direct order to talk her out of it.” I laughed. “And tell her I love her.”
“Yeah, I’ll tell her. I don’t know how long I’ll be, so Denise said she’d bring Jason home with her if I’m not back in time to get him.”
I said a mental prayer of thanks. Denise had been a Godsend when it came to helping out with Jason, especially during our brief separation.
“Got it. We’ll all meet back at home later. I don’t know long Mimi and I will be, either, so we’ll see you when we see you.”
“Okay, honey. I love you. I love you both.”
“I love you too, babe,” I said, then gave Mimi an imploring look. She knew what I wanted and complied without hesitation.
“I love you, too, Dad.”
Good. This told us both Mimi wasn’t upset that Tommy had spilled the beans. I could almost hear the relief in his answer.
“I love you too, Dreamy Mimi.”
We hung up, and the silence fell between us heavily like a blanket. I wouldn’t let it cover us.
“He hasn’t called you that in a while.” I gave her a sidelong glance as I navigated the busy streets. Dreamy Mimi was a nickname Tommy had given her when she was younger. She was only about five or six when Tommy was trying to get her attention. When he’d asked if she’d been daydreaming again, she’d innocently replied, “No, Daddy. I dream about night things, too. Not just about day things.” He’d started calling her Dreamy Mimi then, and it’d stuck until she was about twelve. It was then that she’d told her father she was too old to be called Dreamy Mimi. It reminded me of when I first started insisting that people call me Ginny instead of Gwinny.
“I told him not to. You know, after I found out about...about...”
“About him not being your biological father?” My voice might have had an edge to it I hadn’t intended.
“I guess I didn’t know if he meant it. If he wanted to be my father, or if it was a job he just got stuck with,” she said quietly. “Dreamy Mimi sounded like more of a taunt, Mom. I can’t explain it.”
“I understand.” And I did.
I filled her in on some things she wouldn’t know about, or have no way of remembering, like the time I’d eavesdropped as Tommy told her a made up story about the Princess Mimi. I told her about the time he’d threatened the father of a little girl who’d mercilessly been bullying Mimi at school. Mimi had been about eight years old and came home crying one day because the new girl, Marigold, had been picking on her. Of course, I’d gone to the teacher and spoken with the girl’s mother, yet the bullying had continued in the privacy of the girl’s restroom and out-of-the-way corners in the library or playground.
When I’d told Tommy it was getting harder and harder to get Mimi to go to school, he paid a visit to Marigold’s father and told the man, “Every time my little girl comes home from school crying because of your daughter, I’m going to come see you and punch you in the face. It’s that simple. My daughter hurts, you’re going to hurt.”
Tommy told me how the guy scoffed at him. “Kids are kids. They need to work it out themselves.”
“I’m not making empty threats,” Tommy had told the man. “You’ve been warned. I suggest you get your daughter under control. If my Mimi comes home crying, you’ll be crying.”
The man had just laughed as Tommy walked away. Sure enough, Mimi came home with evidence on the inside of her upper arm where Marigold had pinched her, hard enough for us to see bruises.
“I remember that!” Mimi sat up straight in the car and looked over at me, the seatbelt tight against her chest. “I remember trying to stay away from Marigold after that, but I didn’t have to. She left me alone, and I think they moved anyway. What did Dad do?”
“You really want to know?”
She nodded.
“He went to the man’s work, asked to speak to him outside, and punched him right in the face. Just like he said he would.”
Mimi’s eyes were wide as saucers. “He did that? He did that for me?”
“Mimi, your father does not condone violence. I can tell you the truth when I say I’ve only seen him lose his temper a few times. I didn’t see him punch Marigold’s father, but I know it happened. And I also know that punch was nothing compared to what he’d be willing to do for you. He would lay down his life for you, Mimi. You are his daughter as far as he is concerned. You always have been, honey.”
I’d just pulled into the shooting range, found a spot, and shifted the car into park. I looked over at my daughter then and noticed the change in her posture. It was relaxed and welcoming. Almost as if a burden had been lifted. I smiled at her, and she smiled back.
“I guess we won’t be able to talk much while we’re shooting the guns?” she asked.
“Probably not. It’ll be loud.”
She nodded. “Mom, when we’re done, can we go somewhere else and keep talking?”
“Of course we can, Mimi,” I said, my heart feeling lighter.
“Good. Cause you said in the kitchen, I didn’t know anything. You know Leslie told me some of the stories?”
I plastered on a phony smile at the mention of the reporter’s name.
“You tell me everything Leslie told you, and I’ll do my best to fill in the missing pieces.”
“Good,” she said with a wide grin. Then her brown eyes got serious. “I want you to tell me everything you can about the evil sperm donor.”