The Cat That Went to Homecoming Read online

  “Hi, Dad, this is Ellen. I understand you’ve been trying to reach me. Give me a call back when you get this message so we can arrange to meet for lunch before school starts,” then I added a little joke, “Oh, and be forewarned, it will be an expensive steak and lobster kind of lunch!”

  Chapter Seventeen

  It was the last week of summer vacation, and two weeks since Brandon and I kissed. Cindy and I finally connected. She said she hadn’t heard from Brandon, either. She told me that he had deleted his Facebook account, and by all the feed she had read on that social media site, it seemed he had dropped off the face of the earth. Sarah and Margaret hadn’t seen him either, not at church or at the food pantry. Cindy suggested that we go see him at the store where he worked, but the day she wanted to do this was the day I was having lunch with my dad. Sadly, I had to decline. My meeting with Brandon was equally as important to me as my meeting with my dad, but I had to choose my dad over Brandon.

  My dad picked me up at the house. Mom was at work, thankfully. It wasn’t that I feared there would be heated words exchanged because my mom was way too good of a person to do that. I just felt it was best for her not to see him. I didn’t want her to feel any pain if she still had any feelings for him.

  He was driving a late model Chrysler convertible and despite its age, I was impressed. I thought convertibles were the coolest cars ever.

  “Hi, Dad,” I said as I approached him. He was standing in front of the open passenger door and opened his arms for a hug. I walked into his arms and offered him a stiff hug. He kissed the top of my head.

  “Hi, Princess,” he said, “I’ve missed you so much.”

  Liar, I thought, but kept my mouth shut.

  “Are you ready for steak and lobster?” he asked, holding me out at arm’s length to look at me.

  “Oh, Dad, I was kidding. Any place will be fine,” I said blushing, realizing he took my joke seriously. Apparently we didn’t know each other well enough to joke.

  “Well, I’m okay with surf and turf, and that’s what I have my heart set on so let’s go. There’s a seafood restaurant just outside of the mall. After we eat and get caught up, I would like to take you shopping. School starts next week, right?” I nodded. “You should get some clothes and supplies. I am told a girl can never have too many clothes!”

  I climbed into the car and mentally prayed for the strength to get through this. We made small talk on the ride to the restaurant. It was mostly me answering questions like “How are you doing in school?” and “What music do you listen to?” I told him about Mom and me seeing Maroon Five and how much fun it was. He chuckled.

  “Your mom was always a blast to be with,” he reminisced. He then threw a Maroon Five CD in his player. “It just so happens I have their latest CD. My girlfriend is a huge fan.” I didn’t respond because I did not want to hear about a girlfriend! He looked at me and asked if I had a boyfriend, the question I dreaded the most.

  “No,” I replied.

  “Well there’s nothing wrong with being single. Trust me, guys are a pain in the ass. I ought to know since I am one!”

  The restaurant wasn’t crowded at all, so we were seated immediately. I looked over the menu and was overwhelmed by the choices. This was a bit too classy for me—no cheeseburgers, no pizza.

  “Ellen, have you ever had lobster before?” Dad asked when he noticed my uneasiness.

  “No, I never have. I don’t think I’ve ever had anything on this menu,” I said.

  “Would you like me to make a suggestion? I’ve eaten a lot of seafood over the years. I’ve been in Louisiana for the past few years working in the reconstruction business,” he said.

  “Sure, what do you like the most?” I asked.

  “Myself, I like a good steak and lobster. Do you like steak?” he asked.

  “It’s okay, but I don’t eat it much because we can’t afford to eat expensive food,” I said truthfully, but a little sarcastic.

  “Well, let’s have you try a surf and turf platter. Next time, you can try crab legs or shrimp. Will that work?” he asked.

  “That sounds good to me.” I replied. He ordered for us and asked for two sodas.

  While we waited, we talked some more about his work in Louisiana. Apparently he had driven down there in search of work three years ago, shortly after he and Mom divorced. He wasn’t able to find a good job in Ohio. He had broken up with the woman he was with at the time, so he decided one day to just take off and find employment where he knew he could. My dad was a general construction laborer; he could do everything from electrical wiring to laying concrete. The reconstruction necessary after Hurricane Katrina offered a lot of work and the all-important experience that every employer was looking for.

  He moved back to Wisconsin a few months ago and was trying to start his own construction business. Currently, he was living in an apartment and working for the local cable company as an installer. He was also working on getting his shop together.

  “I’m closing on a property next week and hoping to have the business up and running by the start of the new year,” he said with pride, “and I would like to offer you a job working for me. You can work weeknights or weekends, whatever fits in your schedule.” I didn’t think working for him would be a good idea. If he wouldn’t pay child support, why would he give me a paycheck?

  “I’ll consider it,” I said, knowing I would eventually turn the offer down.

  We sat in awkward silence for a few minutes until the waitress saved us by bringing us our entrees. We ate our first few bites and commented on how tasty the food was.

  “Ellen, did your mom tell you what happened between us?” Dad said, breaking the silence and taking us to an even more awkward place.

  “No, actually, she avoids the subject altogether. She first told me about child support and the lack of it a few weeks ago,” I said boldly, making him look down at his plate in shame. Oops, I suddenly felt guilty.

  “Oh, I see.” He was quiet for a few seconds, pushing food around on his plate in disinterest. When he looked up at me, I could see unshed tears sparkling in his eyes and my guilt meter hit the highest level.

  “I would like the chance to explain myself if I could,” he said in a quiet voice.

  “I’m listening,” I said in as soft a voice as I could muster.

  “Ellen, I love you and your mom. Your mom was the best thing to ever happen to me. She is kind and compassionate and a hell of a lot of fun. I left you and her because I was sick. It was the best thing I could have done for you two.”

  “Just exactly how was it a good thing? You left me fatherless for three years and left Mom single and penniless.” I knew my words were harsh, but they needed to be said.

  “Ellen, I’m a recovering alcoholic. I’ve been sober for six months now, which isn’t a very long time to you, but for me it feels like a lifetime.”

  He was an alcoholic? I had to think back and try to see him that way. Yes, he did often have a beer can in his hands, but I always thought that was just what grownups did. Kids drink juice, grown men drink beer and grown women drink wine.

  “Believe me when I say this meeting with you today was the hardest hurdle for me to jump. I was ashamed of myself, and avoiding you was just so much easier. Who wants to tell their child that they’re a failure?”

  “Dad, drinking a few beers doesn’t make someone a failure,” I said.

  “It does when you can’t hold down a job. No job means no income for your family. When you make your wife so miserable she cries every night and worries about your health, worries about her child, you’re failing to be a good husband and father.” The unshed tears started to fall from his eyes.

  “Dad, this restaurant was a bad idea because there is no way either of us will be able to eat this expensive food,” I said as I pushed my cold lobster aside.

  He laughed, “You are like your mom in so many ways. I see you have her looks, but what’s even more beautiful is the person you are inside. I don’
t want you to worry about the expense of this day, just hear me out.” He all but pleaded. It brought tears to my eyes.

  He went on to explain the twelve-step program he was in, and what the steps were. The program was designed to make a person more aware of his or her alcoholic behaviors and how those behaviors hurt that person’s loved ones. He was working on his ninth step, making amends to those he had wronged. He said he had been talking to my mom a great deal lately, and that they had restored their friendship.

  He left us three years ago because he had been unfaithful to my mom. He had met a woman at a tavern he would frequent during his lunch hours. They started a relationship. She was also an alcoholic, so he felt she understood him better than my mom did. He was so deep into his sickness that he didn’t care how he was hurting my mom or me.

  “Alcoholics are selfish, Ellen. We don’t want to see the harm we’re doing to our loved ones and we certainly don’t want them to tell us to stop. We care only about getting our next drink,” he said.

  He moved to Ohio with the woman from the tavern and her child, but that relationship failed. Two alcoholics together were combustible. He was not able to hold down a job, and was so narcissistic that he refused to work for anyone but himself. That was why he moved to Louisiana, not to do good for the victims of Katrina, but to work freelance and be his own boss. He was paid ‘under the table’ for his work so the government could not find him and take any of his earnings away for child support or taxes.

  “I was selfish, pure and simple. I felt like the world owed me something. I was truly lost,” he said.

  One day, after a night of heavy drinking, he awoke with what he thought was the worst hangover of his life. It turned out to be much more than a hangover. He had pancreatitis, caused by alcohol, and his liver tests proved he was well on his way to liver disease. He was advised that quitting was the only way he could save his life.

  “While I sat in my hospital bed with IV tubes sticking out of me and no one to visit me, I realized the mistakes I had made over the years. I missed you. I missed your mom. I wanted to get my life back on track. I worked under the table so I didn’t have health insurance. A lot of the money I had saved up went towards the medical bills. It was time for me to get a real job with benefits.”

  He moved back to Wisconsin seven months ago and applied for every job he could find. He joined the twelve-step program and obtained a sponsor who helped him find an apartment instead of the hotel he had been living in for a few weeks. His sponsor also helped him with all the legalities regarding his delinquent child support.

  “Your mom and I had a hearing, and our child support agreement has been re-established. The legal issues are still being ironed out, but I am committed to the support order. I have enough saved to open a shop and possibly pay back all that I owe your mom. If not, I will make sure you and your mom are taken care of first.”

  “I really don’t know what to say Dad. I’ve had a pretty rough few weeks, and all of this new information is a lot for me to take in,” I said honestly.

  “I’m not asking you to say anything, I am just grateful that you would be willing to listen to me. In time, you can respond in any way you want and I will not be mad or hurt.”

  We hardly touched our food. It was packaged in to-go containers that we could take home. Dad insisted on taking me to the mall for some school clothes. I really wanted to go home and lock myself in my room for some alone time, but he was so persistent. I got a little mad.

  “Okay fine, but if you won’t let this go, then you’re taking me to get some expensive name brand clothing that I’ve never been able to own before,” I said.

  “Good, you deserve it! Let’s make it the most expensive brand we can find,” he replied. I tried to keep my angry face on, but he made me laugh and ruined my Oscar winning performance.

  “Oh, and Dad, I want one of those cinnamon rolls to take home with me. I’ve always wanted one,” I added.

  “I’ll buy you two, one for you and one for your mom,” he said.

  Mom was sitting on the front stoop when Dad dropped me off. He shut the engine off and we got out of the car.

  “I’ll help you carry all these bags in,” he said. I was not sure that was a good idea. How would Mom feel about it?

  “It’s okay, Dad, I can handle these myself,” I said, in an effort to prevent any problems, but my efforts were in vain.

  “Hey, you two, how did it go?” Mom asked as she walked towards us.

  “Hi, Mom,” I said nervously, “It was good.”

  “Hi, Kayla,” Dad greeted Mom and looked as if he didn’t know if he should hug her or shake her hand. In the end, he did neither, just put his hands in his front pockets. “You’ve done a great job with our daughter.”

  “I can’t take all the credit. Ellen is just naturally a good kid,” she wrapped her arms around my shoulders. “Did you make him buy you the most expensive things you could find?” she asked teasingly.

  “I sure did,” I replied.

  She kissed my head and chuckled, “That’s my girl,” she said.

  When Dad left, Mom and I carried my bags into the house and straight to my room. I had to show off all the clothes I picked out. I finally had a pair of name brand jeans! I silently vowed to never buy a pair of Just My Size again! There was just a week left until school started. Instead of the usual dread I would normally feel about that, I was actually pretty excited. I had a mental plan of what I would wear on the first day.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Labor Day was the official end of summer, the last holiday weekend before the school year started. Many families headed out for the last picnic of the season, or went on mini-vacations. I was going to be working. Jane had a booth set up at the Labor Day festival in Fireman’s Park that weekend, at which Hershey and I would be handing out flyers to promote Paws that Heal.

  I was exceptionally uneasy about it because I just knew I would run into people I would normally try my best to avoid. The festivities at Fireman’s Park drew in most of the local residents who were still in town for the weekend. St Augustine’s was the biggest parish in our county and they ran a brat and burger stand for charity. I knew Cindy, Margaret, and Sarah were scheduled to work at the stand. None of them had heard a peep out of Brandon. If he would be in attendance was a mystery to us all.

  My mom had the weekend off of work, which was a rarity for her. She seldom got holiday weekends off. She had plans on dropping me off at my assigned time, spending the afternoon with a group of girlfriends at the park, and then taking Hershey and I home after our job was finished. She intended to set up a spot for us to watch the fireworks later in the evening.

  Hershey had on his harness and leash and a little ‘Paws That Heal’ scarf around his neck. He was adorable! I had placed a small cat bed on the table and he sat curled up in the bed, allowing patrons of our booth to pet or brush him. He never once hissed or made any aggressive moves. He seemed to know he was working and had to be a professional kitty! I greeted people and handed out flyers always within reach of Hershey. I ate up all the compliments I got on Hershey. I was starting to feel a little fearless until a reporter from the local news station happened upon us with her camera crew.

  The reporter briefly interviewed Jane and then turned to Hershey and me. My upper lip and brow began to sweat and my hands started to shake. Please Lord, don’t make me talk on camera!

  “This afternoon we have Hershey and his handler, Ellen, here. Hershey is our most recent recruit,” she said, reaching out to give Hershey a gentle rub on the head. My little guy rolled over onto his back and meowed at Jane on camera! Jane smiled and said, “He just warms your heart, doesn’t he?” With her back to the camera, she winked at me. I just smiled back, very proud of my Hershey.

  Thankfully, the reporter had no interest in interviewing me. After she left, I sunk into a lawn chair and let out a sigh. “Oh, my God, that was nerve wracking,” I said to Jane, who chuckled at me.

  “Hershey didn’t
seem to mind the attention,” she said. “I know school starts for you next week and your availability will be limited, but would you consider being part of my weekend Children’s Hospital team? Hershey would be great with kids, don’t you think?”

  Since my job with Jane doing yard work was coming to an end, I had been thinking of applying for a part-time job. It had to be close enough to home for me to ride my bike or walk to when a ride from Mom wasn’t available. That would probably mean I’d be working weekends, but I didn’t want to lose my opportunity with Paws That Heal. My experiences with Hershey were more important to me than having spending money.

  “I would love that Jane, but would it be a set schedule? I would like to take on a part-time job,” I said.

  “We visit the hospital once a month, more frequently during the holidays. A schedule can easily be arranged.”

  I stood up to greet two people who had approached our booth, introducing Hershey and asking the little girl in the duo if she’d like to pet him. She looked to be about four or five years old, and had Down syndrome.

  “Ellen?” I heard a familiar voice say. I looked at the guy behind the little girl and froze. John Peck! “Hey, Ellen, is this your cat?” he asked.

  “Hi, John, and yes, this is my cat, Hershey,” I replied. I had to remain composed in front of Jane.

  “Haley, this is a girl I go to school with,” he said kneeling next to the little girl, “Ellen, this is my niece, Haley.”

  I leaned closer to Haley. “Hi, Haley, it’s nice to meet you,” I said with all of my focus on her. “This is Hershey.”

  “Did you name him after a candy bar?” she asked shyly.

  “You got me, Haley! He’s my little Hershey Kiss!” I replied.

  “Can I hug him?” Haley asked.

  “Yes, you may, but gently,” I told her. John lifted her up to the right height so she could wrap her arms around Hershey. Hershey stiffened in surprise, his eyes trained on me to make sure everything was okay. I smiled at him and blinked my eyes slowly, which was a communication between the two of us.