Chapter 30: Learning About My Daughters

Lily was preoccupied with the mothers and I was shocked to find she agreed to let the four girls and Brian sleep in the same cabin that weekend. Even more shocked when she said she’d given Samantha permission to spend the night at a sleepover on Halloween that would include all the signers of the agreement. It wasn’t easy to win Lily over on things like this, so I agreed.

But I was worried about my other little girl. Alexandra was developing physically faster than Samantha had. She’d had the hair treatments the girls used since fifth grade and had none of Samantha’s harassment when she hit puberty. And she was a social maven—a cheerleader in seventh grade with aspirations to become the head cheerleader in high school. And she had her own little group that seemed to orbit her shining star.

“We need an outing,” I said.

“Where to?” Lexi asked. “I’ll get Mom and Sammy.”

“No. Just you and me.” She looked at me with her mouth open.

“Did I do something wrong, Daddy?”

“No, honey. I just haven’t spent enough time with you and you are changing so fast that I feel lost. You have become a lovely young woman and I suddenly feel like I don’t know you and maybe you don’t know me,” I said.

“Okay. Where are we going?”

“Be ready at five tomorrow morning. We’ll catch the train into Chicago and come back tomorrow night.”

“Chicago? Wow! Will you take me shopping?”

“I’m sure there will be shopping involved. Just be ready at five.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

The girls knew their grandmothers, of course. My mother and Little Joe’s mother made a trip out to see us a couple of times a year. My sister came to visit a few times but stopped bringing my namesake. He’d become a bully and his father was in the process of taking him down a few notches. Little Joe was a stern disciplinarian when it came to honorable behavior and had let Little Sly stand for himself in a schoolyard fracas without the usual bodyguard interference. He found out what it was like to stand alone. It was going to be a slow learning process.

The train trip was exciting for Lexi and I sat with her in the commuter car most of the two hours. We picked up a sweet roll and milk for her and coffee for me as I pointed out some of the attractions along the way. That amounted to the flaming stacks at the refineries in Michigan City and Gary and the occasional glimpse of Lake Michigan.

My usual car and driver met us at Millennium Station. Alexandra was impressed.

“Dad? You have a car waiting for you at the train station? It’s, like, eight o’clock in the morning.”

“Honey, I work in Chicago when I leave home. We’re going to stop for a quick visit with Grandma Sofia and Aunt Isabella. They’re dying to see you. I hope Grandma Maria will be there, too. That way we don’t have to make an extra stop. Then we’ll stop at Uncle Joe’s office so you can meet him.”

“Who is Uncle Joe?”

“That is Aunt Isabella’s husband and my best friend in this world,” I said. “He will be your friend, too. Lexi, I want you to see what I do for a living.”

“Is this like ‘take your daughter to work’ day?” she giggled.

“In a way. I want it to be ‘learn about your dad’ day. And I want to learn about my daughter, as well.”

“Things are a lot calmer now than they were in the sixties and early seventies,” I said as we walked along the waterfront. “Things changed when containers were standardized and shipping was deregulated a few years ago. Back when Joe’s and my fathers were working out here, loading and unloading a ship was a masterpiece for puzzlers. Think of it as a massive three-dimensional picture puzzle. All the pieces had to fit and be loaded and unloaded in a particular order. Now, all the containers are about the same size. The most popular are eight feet wide, nine-and-a-half feet tall, and fifty-three feet long. All the loading and unloading is done by crane operators.”

“It sounds like a weird measurement.”

“It was based on what was already standard in trucking and rail traffic. The big ships that come up the St. Lawrence and terminate here in Chicago were mostly custom-built to fit the canals and the container sizes.”

“What gets shipped here?” I was pleased that my daughter was expressing an interest. I was afraid we’d have to rush to the Loop for shopping.

“Grain, automobiles, construction materials, tires, steel, cement, food, oil, furniture, clothing, livestock. When we talk shipping today, we’re not just talking about the big ships that come in from the lake, but also the railroad and truck lines that intersect here.”

“So, you work in shipping? I thought you said security.”

“That’s why we’re going up there,” I said, pointing to an office that overlooked the docks.

“Sly! You made it with no difficulty?”

“Everyone has been very polite,” I said. “Don Joseph, may I have the honor of presenting my youngest daughter, Donna Alexandra di Corti Cortales. Alexandra, this is your uncle, Don Joseph Cortelli.”

Joe got out around his desk to face my daughter in record time. He’d put on some weight since our army days but still looked strong and healthy. He snapped a bow to Lexi that would have made a Renaissance courtier proud. I was surprised that Alexandra managed a respectable curtsey. Her mother must have coached her.

“A delight, my dear niece. I regret that it has taken so many years for us to meet face-to-face and hope in the future we might have more occasions for family reunions. How may I be of service to you today?”

“Wow.” Well, she was only thirteen.

“Joe, I’ve been showing Lexi a little about what we do out here. Since you’re my boss, I wanted her to get your impression of our work.”

“Please sit down and let’s have a chat.” Joe had a nice arrangement of comfortable chairs and tables that looked out over the shipyards. “Lexi, if it weren’t for your father, I’d be dead. He calls me his boss but he is my best friend and brother-in-law.”

“To be fair,” I interjected, “Uncle Joe saved my life repeatedly in the jungle.”

“You were really soldiers?” Lexi asked.

“Really. And when we got back from the war, we found a world that was changing faster than we were. I married your father’s sister the same day that he married my cousin and while we were all on our honeymoons, my father was murdered, right out there on the docks. That was followed by a wildcat stevedore strike and I sent your father and mother away so they would not be too near to the danger.”

“So, what do you ship?”

“Shipping is where our roots are. I have this office only so I can look out each day on what my father gave his life for. But times change. My father worked for the union. We have our own security company here and contract for many different jobs. Sometimes, your father goes out to assess a warehouse and recommend an alarm system. Sometimes he walks a step behind a politician to make sure there are no threats coming toward him or he is standing on a rooftop with binoculars searching for dangers at a rock concert or football game. Wherever there is a security need for the best, I send your father. And he also trains our new employees so they will understand how to spot a threat and neutralize it without disturbing the event.”

“Dad? You do all that?” I nodded. “Wow.”

After our talk with Joe, I took Lexi on the promised shopping trip to the Loop and spent far less than I expected. She was most happy that I would sit and comment as she tried on outfit after outfit and then choose just one.

“Just one?” I asked.

“Daddy, they are all lovely. But I’m still growing and there is no sense buying a bunch of stuff that I’ll only be able to wear once and then give away.”

“That is very mature for a thirteen-year-old. I’m impressed.”

“Thank you, Daddy. Um ... Samantha has been coaching me.”

“Really? How?”

“Well, we sort of have a group in junior high, you know?”

“Excuse me, but you are too young to be dating. I’m still nervous about your older sister going to high school events.”

“That’s part of what it’s all about. We are kind of together at school and ... Daddy, some of my friends aren’t very strong or popular. I need to protect them.”

“Lexi, let’s sit and you can tell me about your friends.” We went into the café at Marshall Field’s and ordered a late lunch. The Christmas shopping crowds were descending on the stores and we were lucky to get a table. “Now, tell me about your friends. I was under the impression that you are very popular and have popular friends. You are a junior high cheerleader, right?”

“Yes, and a couple of my friends are athletes. But Sam told me something just before school started this fall that changed everything.”

“What was that?”

“She said there was a girl in my class who was smaller than everyone else and was poor. She didn’t have nice clothes and she carried a bologna sandwich to school for lunch each day. She was picked on by other people in my class,” Lexi said. She kept her eyes fixed on the napkin in front of her.