Beyond Words Bonus Scene II

Lucas 

“And where do you think you’re going at this hour, young lady?”  I set my beer on the counter as I intercepted Angela at the kitchen door.  

As my not-so-little girl stood before me, testing the boundaries of teenage freedom—and the impatient tolerance of a father faced with letting go—memories of not-so-long-before pooled below the surface. I searched her features, trying to understand what had become of my little girl. The one who used to be so small and fragile.  

The one who used to need me. 

The one who’s trying desperately to prove she doesn’t anymore. 

Angela looked away and rolled her eyes, then rattled off a well-rehearsed answer. “Just to the beach—” 

“Uh-huh. And who are you going with?” I followed up before she finished. 

“Just Margot and June. It’s not a big thing, just a few friends.” The all-too-familiar way she smiled before answering, an unintentional tell that she was prepared for everything I had to throw at her. A wry little grin that had belonged to her as far back as I could remember. The same smile that finally convinced her mother she wasn’t too delicate to hide away out of fear the world would be too much.  

A smile that said she would one day show the world it was the other way around.  

“Oh yeah? Hmm…interesting.” I reached for my beer and brought the bottle to my lips, pausing before I drank. “Maybe my hearing is starting to go but I don’t think I caught any boy’s names in that list.” After a carefully timed sip, I continued, “Care to try again? Or shall I go on with the questions?”  

“Dad…! Really feelin’ the trust, here.” Angela motioned between us, her eyes—the same color as Cat’s—flashing with annoyance. “First, it’s not even nine p.m. And it isn’t a school night. Second, you asked who I was going with not who was going to be there—which I answered.” Looking away, and with a lifetime supply of teenage attitude, she added, “Not that it matters to you, I’m sure.”  

Between the defiant confidence in her eyes and the forthright defensiveness of her response, I knew I could trust she was on the level. Honesty had always been a strength of our relationship, even if the strength of our personalities clashed more often now that she was almost an adult. Part of me wanted to pause the current conversation, just to share how proud I was of her. How deeply I missed the days when her sleep-filled eyes frantically searched for the safety of her daddy’s arms. How back then I could rely on those steady reassurances that she knew I would always be there to protect her.  

Why didn’t anyone warn me that the more you loved your child, the harder it is to let go? And how critical it is for them to become their own person… 

Instead of sharing my worry or admitting my insecurities, I leaned against the doorframe. “So you want me to be more direct?” I took another sip and tried not to laugh at how much she had to learn. “You think you’re old enough to hear it straight?”  

Angela boldly nodded. She was a doer. A starter. A go-getter who always felt ready to take on more than she could. I’d always been proud of her confidence. It would serve her well as she stepped into the world. 

“Guess I hadn’t realized our relationship had matured to that level. Please, allow me to try again.” I cleared my throat before unleashing what I meant to be innocuous. “Who’s going to be there?” While the volume of my voice remained relatively low, my tone sounded deep and accusing. More than I’d intended by a mile. More like dressing-down an insolent Marine than reminding my seventeen-year-old daughter the old dog still had teeth, when necessary.   

Why did parenting have to be so hard? 

I kept a straight face in the hopes she could read between the lines of good intention and piss-poor execution. When I noticed the quiver in her lip, it was obvious I’d gone too far. My shoulders fell and my voice softened. “Angel…” 

She crossed her arms and stared at her feet. 

“I didn’t mean it to come out like that. I was just trying...hell, it doesn’t matter. Come here.” I opened my arms and pulled a reluctant Angela in. I hated that our relationship had devolved to this. That there was any scenario where my bark would be enough to make her question the immeasurable love I would always have for her. That she would ever, for even a moment, doubt I would give my life to make certain hers was safe and healthy and happy.  

I hated it almost as much as I hated that the only place she had left for me was watching over her shoulder from a distance. Little did she realize I could still keep an eye out for the things she didn’t know to watch. Even if she didn’t appreciate it like she used to.  

When Angela didn’t lean into the hug to reassure me we were good, I knew I had to act fast if I wanted to salvage things. I opened my embrace and leaned back, attempting to meet her eyes. “I know you’re in a hurry to get going, but please, give me five more minutes.”  

She stepped back and nodded but refused to look at me.  

Hoping to lower the temperature, I extended an arm toward the kitchen table. “Sit? Please.” 

As Angela lowered herself into a seat, giving her attention to the hem of the table runner instead of me, I inhaled deeply and prayed for guidance to not screw things up any further. I was unprepared for the moment I found myself in. I didn’t even understand how we’d gotten there, much less how to repair the damage.  

With her eighteenth birthday around the corner, I was running out of time to make sure my little girl knew how much I loved her. And trusted her. Before she closed her ears to me and stopped listening for good. “Sweetheart. Look, I know…” I paused and lowered myself into a seat before trying again. “See, it’s…” 

With tears welling in her eyes, Angela finally met my gaze. “Why won’t you trust me? What do I have to do to prove myself to you?” 

I shook my head. “What do you mean? Prove what?” 

As she spoke, the dam broke. Tears streamed freely down both cheeks. “Dad, I’ve been an honor roll student my entire life. I’ve never been in trouble for anything, and I’ve only broken curfew once. And that was only because Meegan’s car got a flat on our way home from the movie—if you’ll recall.” 

“And if you’d called me instead of letting your friend call some random tow company, you wouldn’t have been late that time,” I said, desperate to demonstrate I still had utility, even if it had nothing to do with the point she was making. 

“That. Right there.” Angela sat back and folded her arms across her chest. “Instead of being proud of me for handling the situation—while remembering to keep you informed about what happened and where I was—you criticize me for making the wrong decision.”  

“You can’t be serious.” I folded my arms over my chest and sat back, then laughed a little to realize how similar we looked. “Are you?” 

Angela arched a brow. A dare for me to try and explain my way out. “It’s like your love language is criticism or something.” Her sad smile was meant to soften the blow, but it still hit like a semi-truck. 

“How do you get criticism from that? I was only pointing out that if you’d let me help...” 

“Yeah, Dad. Exactly. There was no ‘Great job, Angela!’ or ‘I’m proud of you for figuring it out!’ Only that I wouldn’t have been late if I’d been smart enough to call you instead of learning how to life on my own.” 

“Shit...” I mumbled to myself as I rubbed my chin. “I never meant to…” 

“Maybe not, but that’s basically how it feels these days. Dad…I love you and I know you love me…but you’re gonna have to let me grow up. Be my own person. You might even be surprised to learn I’m good at it.”  

A pair of gentle hands rubbed at the tension in my shoulders. I turned to find Cat standing behind me. “I don’t want to interrupt, but knowing how alike you guys are, I thought you might need a translator.” 

As if it had been rehearsed, Angela and I replied in unison. “We’re nothing alike.” Which caused us both to look away while we hid our mutual disgruntled amusement. 

“Mm-hmm. Guess I was mistaken. Not sure how I came to that conclusion,” Cat said with a smile as she worked on a knot in my shoulder.  

I placed my hand on hers. “I’ve always said she gets her stubbornness from you.”  

Angela laughed. “Yeah, because Mom’s been the one who had to know every detail of everything before I could go anywhere. Including going to my first dance with a boy.” 

“Hey, I didn’t need every last detail.” I sat back, glad the tension between us was dissolving. “Just his name, address, both parent’s contact information, and the exact time you intended to be home.” 

Cat helped herself to a seat at the table and cleared her throat. “Wasn’t that the time we went out for a family drive the weekend before? And we ended up driving past their house like five times?” 

Curious where she was going, I raised an eyebrow. “We might have. I don’t really remember. So what?” 

“So what?!” Angela’s jaw dropped. “Dad, you only agreed to let me go after I swore we’d use the route you showed me.” 

“And?” 

“And I was in eighth grade! His parents drove us. Can you even begin to imagine how embarrassing it was to give his mom instructions on how and where to drive?” 

“Hey, now be fair. That was a onetime thing. After I came to terms with the idea of you going on dates, I think I relaxed quite a bit.” 

Exasperated, Angela turned to Cat for backup. “So then why, at seventeen, am I’m sitting at the table with my parents on a Saturday night instead of hanging out at the beach like every other person my age around here?” 

Shocked, I turned to Cat, expecting her head to be shaking in disbelief with mine. When it wasn’t, I didn’t know what to say. Thoughtlessly I ran a hand over my mouth, as if trying to wipe the surprise away—but there was no hiding my loss for words.  

How overprotective had I been? How awful was it to have me for a dad? Had I allowed an overprotective blind spot to ruin one of the most important relationships I’ve ever had? 

“Sweetheart? Are you okay?”  

Not even the reassuring love in Cat’s voice could soothe my worry. 

Heartbroken over my ignorance, I placed my hand on hers and gave my undivided attention to Angela. “I’m…so sorry. I can’t even begin to tell you how far from my mission it sounds like I landed.”  

“Your mission?” Angela asked quietly. 

“Hey, once a Marine, always a Marine. You—the mission was you. Raising you with the confidence and knowledge to know your worth and trust your instincts, while always keeping one eye on the road ahead—your road—watching for obstacles you weren’t ready to handle on your own.” I tried my best to clear the lump from my throat as I stood and moved toward my daughter. “But sweetheart, at no point have I ever felt anything but pride and pleasure and love for you. Toward the young woman you’ve become.” 

She stood and met me halfway, rushing into my arms the way she had when she was small. It was everything I’d been missing for so long, and for the first time I understood I was responsible for pushing her away. “I’m so, so, sorry for anything I’ve ever done that caused you to doubt that.” 

After a minute or two, I realized the time and released my grip. “Go on then. Be safe…but try and have fun.” 

As Angela pulled open the door, she stopped and turned back with that wry smile of hers. “You know Dad. There was this thing, a saying or something, you told me about the Marines when I was little. I always think about you when I hear it. Semper—” 

“Semper Fidelis,” I finished for her. 

“It means always faithful, or something, right?” Angela asked as she took a step into the humid night air. 

Smiling, I nodded. 

“Semper Fi, Daddy,” she said before closing the door.