Chapter 13

The Colonel led them into the lounge. “Sit. Both of you.”

Chris looked at Beth. She nodded and mouthed to him, “It’s okay.”

There were two couches in the room—one either side of a glass coffee table. Chris and Beth sat on one couch. The Colonel sat opposite. “Well, young lady, explain yourself.”

“I don’t have to explain myself. I was due time off. The past few weeks have been rough and I needed a vacation. So I went.”

“You ran off, in the middle of the night, a day after burying your brother. Where to? And for how long? Not a word. You just upped and went.”

“I told Mom I was going.”

The Colonel huffed. “But you didn’t call when you got there or let us know when you were going to be home. Your mother was worried sick.”

“No she wasn’t or she would have called my cell.”

“Well, I was worried sick. Anything could have happened to you. Airplane crash. Car wreck. You could have been raped or murdered for all I knew.” He looked at Chris.

“I’d have called Mom if there had been problem. Or Chris would have called if anything happened to me. Wouldn’t you, honey?”

Chris nodded. “Of course.”

“But this isn’t like you, Lizzie. This isn’t the way the little girl I raised would behave.”

“How do you know, Daddy? You don’t know me. Not really. You never have.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, of course I know you. You’re my little Lizzie.”

“That’s my point, Daddy.” She slapped her hands on her thighs. “I’m not Lizzie. You’re the only person who’s ever called me Lizzie. My clients call me Elizabeth, to everyone else I’m Beth.”

The Colonel stared at his daughter. “But I thought you liked Lizzie.”

“Exactly! You’ve never known what I liked and didn’t. Could you name any of the posters on my wall when I was a teenager? Go on. Name one. With the amount of time you spent in my room lecturing me about the evils of boys, you must have noticed.”

“Erm...” He shook his head.

“No? What about the music I listened to? You were always yelling at me to turn it down, but who was it?”

The Colonel shrugged. “I don’t know. All modern music sounds like noise to me.”

Beth huffed. “What about my senior prom date? I’ll bet you couldn’t name him. Could you?”

“Wasn’t it ... Larry, or somebody.”

“See. See what I mean? It was Robert. Robert Evans. The best looking boy in school asked me to the prom. I was so excited. And you can’t even remember his name. I’ll bet you can’t remember my dress, either, can you? You should because when you saw it you refused to pay for it. You said it was indecent. I used my savings to pay for it instead.” She shook her head. “You were never interested in what I was doing—as long as I wasn’t dating, you were happy. No, you were much more interested in Lance.”

Colonel Burnett’s eyes were wide and his mouth hung open. “Lizzie ... I...”

“What’s wrong, Colonel? Did you think I didn’t notice? Did you think that I didn’t know you were disappointed when I was born?”

“I was never disappointed. How could I be disappointed? You were my beautiful little girl.”

“Oh, sure I was!” Beth was very animated now—her hand movements wild. Chris knew that she was saying things to her father that she’d kept bottled up for years. He wondered how far she would go. “I know you always wanted a boy. Someone who’d follow in your footsteps. But you got me instead. Poor Colonel Burnett got landed with the burden of a daughter.”

Colonel Burnett sat forward in his seat. “Sweetheart, you ... you know that’s not true. You’re my special little girl.”

“Really? How many of my piano recitals did you attend? You wanted me to take up the piano in the first place, but I don’t remember you ever coming to see to me play. And you never saw me sing in the choir either, did you?”

“Honey—it’s not like that. I wanted to be there. Really, I did. But—”

“Something always came up. I know. I’ve heard all the excuses before. There was always something more important, wasn’t there? But you never missed one of Lance’s football games, did you? No, you had to support the big hero quarterback, didn’t you? That was something you could tell your men about back at the base.”

“Lizzie, it’s not like that. You know how this town feels about football—everything shuts down for the game on Friday night. And we started winning when Lance played. How would it look if the quarterback’s father wasn’t at the game?”

“Don’t give me that. You were always at the game because you always wanted to see him perform. Shame the same can’t be said about me.” She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Do you have any idea how it made me feel? Knowing you loved Lance more than me.”

The Colonel had lost his air of militaristic grace. He looked shaken. His eyes were watery. “How...? You know that’s not true.”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, I loved him, too. And you know why? Because he was more of a father to me than you ever were.”

“How...? How can you say that?”

“Because he was always there for me when I needed him. You never were. Never. Who comforted me when I lost out on being prom queen to that bitch Missy Monroe after she said all those horrible things about me? Lance! Who drove me to my interview at Hallsbeck? Lance. I can’t count the number of times I needed my Daddy and you weren’t there for me. Sometimes I just needed a hug, but you were never around. Or you didn’t have the time. Or there was something more important to do. There was always something more important than me.”

Colonel Burnett sat motionless on the couch. He hunched over, his elbows resting on his knees and his head in his hands. He stared at his reflection in his polished black shoes. He rubbed his eyes with his palms and then ran his fingers through his short gray hair. His eyes glistened with unformed tears. He was no longer the confident military man. He was a father. Just a father who loved his daughter. So why didn’t he tell her? Chris knew that was all Beth wanted—to hear her father say that he loved her.