Paternal and Proud [LAMS Short Story]

III - Bewildered and Worried

Frances sat in the office after school. She wasn't surprised or angry, just kind of dreadful of what was about to happen. It was inevitable that she and her father would have to have a talk with Philip and his parents. She did punch a student, after all.

Philip came into the office quietly, the bells on the door handle clanging together he pushed the door open. He glanced at Frances, shaking his head almost unnoticeably in annoyance as he stepped by to take a seat next to her. In the silent, almost-sterile feeling of the office, neither said anything.

Frances jumped in her seat - like her ass actually left the cushion for a second - when the door slammed open and a man briskly walked in. He was attractive, not that Frances felt anything toward him - he was in his thirties or forties, she could tell - and he dressed in business casual clothing, with his hair half up. Next to Frances, Philip straightened ever-so-slightly.

"Pip?" the man asked, brushing by Frances to stand in front of the teen next to her. His eyes searched Philip's. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, dad. It was nothing serious or--"

"Pip, I heard you got punched, are you sure? Whose ass do I need to kick?"

"Dad," Philip said, the slightest of smiles on his face. "I was about to say 'it was nothing serious nor intentional.' Don't worry about it." Frances blinked in surprise, wondering why Philip didn't just tell his dad that she was the one who decked him.

"Philip..." his dad trailed off, his tone becoming much more serious. "I'm serious, what happened? Was someone bullying you?"

"Dad, no, dad," Philip breathed a very brief laugh. "I swear it was nothing, it was an accident, I... didn't even feel it!" He didn't mention the bloody nose, the force - even though unintentional - of Frances' swing.

His dad bit his lip in concern, then chuckled, mussing Philip's hair. "Alright, I trust you. You'd tell me if you were being bullied, right?"

"Yes, dad, I'm not being bullied," Philip chuckled too as the door opened again. Both he, his dad, and Frances looked toward the sound.

Frances sucked in a quiet breath when she saw her dad walk in. He scanned the office quickly, curls bouncing, until he found her. She couldn't read the look on his face.

"Fran, what is this about?" his voice was quick and disbelieving, tone stern. Frances said nothing at first, grasping for words that would grant her the least severe punishment.

"I..." she breathed, not knowing what to say. Philip glanced at her.

"I got a call saying you punched a kid? Fran... what? That's not like you. What happened?" Her dad knelt down in front of her as she ducked her head, ashamed.

"Wait, Pip, that's the kid who punched you?" Philip's dad's voice was incredulous as he sized her up.

"Dad, stop." Philip's tone was surprisingly authoritative.

"You're the one Frances punched?" Frances' dad turned to Philip and put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm really sorry about this." He turned back to his daughter expectantly. "Frances. I asked you, what happened?"

"Mr. Laurens?" Frances and Philip's dad both turned to look at Philip, who spoke. "It really was an accident, she didn't mean to do it. It's okay."

"Frances? I'm not getting any younger here and I still haven't heard an explanation." Frances' dad turned back to her after acknowledging Philip's statement with a nod.

"It really was an accident," was all Frances could get out before she felt tears sting her eyes again.

Her dad melted. "Oh, sweetie..." he lifted her chin with his fingers and hugged her. It was rare that Frances cried and he knew that as a teenager, she was going through some things that she hadn't told him.

"Hey, I'm sure there was a reason for whatever happened. Let's talk about it, okay?"

Frances nodded, wiping her eyes and trying to look grateful when she glanced at Philip.

He gave her a smile - a small and tired one, sure, but a smile nonetheless, and Frances felt her heart mend itself just a little bit.

"Hey, I'm Frances' dad, John Laurens," her dad introduced himself, holding out a hand.

Philip's dad gave a smile in return and shook John's hand. "Alex Hamilton. Nice to meet you... although I'd rather have met under different circumstances."

"As would I," John nodded, breathing out a soft laugh.

Another man, that Frances recognized as her principal, Mr. Washington, entered the room with a sigh. He introduced himself to the dads, then requested Philip and Frances' audience in his office. Alex and John were left in the empty waiting area.

"Look, I understand if you're angry, but my daughter is not a very physically aggressive person," John tried to reason.

Alex smiled and shook his head. "It's okay, John, really. Philip's fine, he tells me almost everything, and I trust his word. I understand how difficult it can be for fathers and daughters sometimes to communicate well..." Alex bit his lip, glancing down for a second.

"Thanks, Alex." John smiled, thinking about Frances and how to deal with the situation. "I just don't know how to talk to her sometimes. I know she's not telling me some things, but I don't know how much I can pry. I want to give her privacy, since I never got all that much as a kid... but I still need to know some things. What if she's not being safe or has a toxic relationship with someone?" John put his head in his hands, sighing.

Alex nodded, though John couldn't see, and rubbed John's shoulder soothingly. "It's okay to not understand your kids. No one does, anyway. Kids go through a tough time and I think they just needs trust and love in her life. It's just hard to give that to them if we don't know how they want us to show them that love and trust."

John nodded also. He looked up smiling and took Alex's hand gratefully, thanking him. Subconsciously, he couldn't help but notice the lack of a wedding ring around Alex's fourth finger.

"I... don't mean to pry into your life or overstep my boundaries and feel free to tell me... whatever you want, I guess... but do you want to go get coffee or dinner sometime?" John asked.

Alex looked surprised. His eyebrows shot up and he looked into John's eyes for any hint of insincerity, but only felt the slight squeeze of John's hand on his own and felt nothing but reciprocated feelings.

"I, um... uh - sure, yeah, I'd be glad to," Alex replied cheerfully, slowly getting over his shock. "I'm free on most weekends and after six-thirty on most weekdays," he added, cutting to the chase.

John grinned at the endearing crookedness of Alex's smile. "Okay," he nodded again, feeling, for the first time in a while, excited. "Can I get your number? I can text you sometime."

--

Frances and Philip exited the office a little while later, looking relatively the same as before, both with polite, respectful looks on their faces. Each looked to their respective fathers, avoiding eye-contact with each other and their principal.

Mr. Washington cleared his throat. "The kids and I had a talk, and I think they're going to be okay, John and Alexander. Do you mind stepping into my office for a quick talk?"

John and Alex nodded, standing together and entering the room that their children had just left.

The door separated the kids from their parents, the shutting of it definitive and loud in the office's silent air.