Daddy's Favorite

A Short Story About Siblings and Deception

Pietro Bulloni, Picnic, 2010, Oil on canvas

The beating heart of any great American story is the family — the love given, and the secrets kept. Today, we bring you a brilliant short story from our new Poetry Editor, Vanessa Ogle, that grapples with a dark secret sitting at the center of one such rural family. Two siblings wonder: what did their Daddy really do? Did he once attempt the unspeakable? Just how death-haunted are they? Join Sean and Julia on their unsettling quest.

—The Editors

Sean was ten when it happened. It was a memory that he swallowed. Instead of passing through him, it became another heart. It was there, alert and active, with him always. He thought this obsession, his acceptance of his father’s worst moment along with his commitment to remembering it, was proof he loved Daddy most.

Julia was appalled when Sean told her that theory one drunken Memorial Day. It had been a long and lazy weekend, so unlike how they usually spent their time. Sean had gotten too comfortable. Immediately after he spoke, he regretted it. Julia, it was apparent, had not kept the memory close. Instead, she had ejected it from her body like vomit, expelling all traces. The thought alone a poison.

“Daddy most certainly did not try to kill us,” she said. “And it was Fourth of July, not Memorial Day so I don’t even know why you would bring this up now.”

She was older, almost thirteen at the time. It was their dad’s weekend, and it was the first time Julia and Sean had been truly alone with him without Nana or Aunt Gemma popping in and out, dropping off casserole or leftover barbeque but really, keeping a watchful eye over them. Or maybe it had been an eye on him.

Their mother had cheated, Daddy reminded them and anyone who would listen, and still, even though he would forgive her because he was a goddamn Christian and his vow to God had meant something, she still wanted out, so after fifteen years of marriage, he was living alone for the first time in his life.

Within a matter of weeks, everything was decided. Nana’s summer house was meticulously maintained and she said he was free to move in and stay year-round. Not just until he got on his feet. Forever. It was his.

Daddy had never been one for charity so Sean was surprised at how quickly he had accepted the offer, how reflexive it had all been. When Sean mentioned this out loud, Daddy had said gruffly, It’s not charity because I’d get it anyway.

Daddy was one of five, with three sisters and a brother but Sean knew by the tone of his voice to not push it. It wasn’t so much that he was worried about Daddy getting crazy. Sean knew they were lucky because Daddy, unlike Daddy’s father, did not use the belt. But Sean hated the quiet rage a question could produce. The hours of seething. The aphorisms that followed.

This was when Daddy related everything back to cheating, and the advice came sporadically, with Sean never quite knowing what he’d done to set him off. Daddy would get emotional, grabbing at Sean’s bony shoulder blades or smacking the back of his neck and whispering to him. Sean, you just be careful now: you can give up everything in the world for a woman and it still won’t be enough. Sean, if a woman seems too good to be true, she is. Sean, don’t think with the wrong head.

Back then, Sean wasn’t sure if the advice was advice or thinly veiled jabs at his mother so he mostly just shrugged or nodded. Once, when he did nothing at all, Daddy burst into tears, slapping at Sean’s cheeks.

It was the first Fourth of July weekend that they’d ever spent there, despite the community having a vibrant celebration. Usually, Sean and Julia went South to Uncle Bryan’s farm in the town where most of their mother’s family still lived to see fireworks and, best of all, set off their own. Daddy’s family was gone, with Nana spearheading the planning for a trip to Traverse City. But Daddy put his foot down. It’s my weekend, he said, and we’re going to spend it together, as a family, in my house.

Julia was excited that Daddy had finally fixed up Nana’s old pontoon so that the three of them could join the lake’s boat parade. Despite having never attended, Sean and Julia knew about it, the parade embedding itself into their psyche through osmosis, the way it is in a small town. There were so many things people just knew about. Word of mouth. The way it used to be, Daddy said.

Julia wanted Daddy and Sean to dress like pirates so she could wear one of Nana’s old dresses that was still hanging in the closet, protected by thin plastic wrap and partially-hidden moth balls. She’d be a damsel in distress, held hostage by the pirates. Or a pirate princess. She wasn’t sure which yet. Her idea was vetoed by Daddy, though, who said he had an idea, Just you wait. But by the day before the parade, he still hadn’t told them the plan.

“I’m sorry, Daddy, but we need to have a plan in place. There are prizes for the top five fabulously decorated boats,” Julia said.

“Don’t you worry. I have a plan,” he said. “Right, Sean?”

Sean hadn’t heard of anything. Still, he nodded.

When Daddy slammed the door to put together the finishing touches, Julia wouldn’t look at Sean. Finally, he held her down and started tickling her until she screamed.

“Okay, okay! Enough,” she said. She had laughed tears and snot. Sean pretended not to notice.

“Do you think we’ll win anything tomorrow?” Sean asked her.

“I hope so. Can you tell me what Daddy’s planning?”

“I don’t know.”

“Shut up.”

“Seriously.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Pinky-pinky promise?”

“I said I promise.”

“Okay — hey, I think we have some sparklers in that top drawer,” she said.

Julia grabbed the sparklers and a lighter and they ran outside barefoot.

---

“Rise and shine!”

“What time is it?” Julia asked.

“Quarter to five,” Daddy said. “Be out at five on the dot! Better yet, a minute before.”

And with that, he slammed the door. Sean was still sleeping so Julia ran over to his side of the room and blew on his ear. When he stirred, she crouched down, her eyes level with a long-forgotten sock and dust bunnies. Daddy’s bedroom was Nana’s old room. The other room was still stuffed to the brim with boxes. Because of this, they shared a room. Sean finally opened his eyes.

“Boo!” Julia said.

“What time is it?” Sean asked.

“Time to get up.”

“Okay, Mom.”

“Shut up!”

“I’m just kidding.”

“It’s not funny.”

“It’s just, that’s what Mom — ”

“I know,” she whispered. “But don’t let Daddy hear you mention her.”

“Okay,” he said, pulling the sheet over his chest.

“I’m getting changed in the bathroom. I’ll meet you on the porch.”

---

Sean reached into his backpack and pulled out his red soccer shorts and a blue striped t-shirt. His mom had packed for him, stuffing his bag with almost a dozen pairs of underwear. It was weird how quickly things had changed. He missed his Uncle Bryan’s farm and seeing his cousins, especially Lucas-Nathaniel and Cliff. Next year. Maybe. Hopefully.

When he got downstairs, he saw Julia was eating a piece of toast.

“Want some?”

The thought made him gag. It was too early to eat, and just the thought of food felt simply impossible. He shook his head.

“Suit yourself.”

He could hear Daddy clamoring away at something outside. He could feel, already, it was going to be hot. He remembered the year they forgot the sunscreen and his uncle said they didn’t need it, anyhow. He and Julia got blisters all over their shoulders. He wondered if he’d ever see his mom’s family again, or if he was stuck here every Fourth of July.

Julia waved her hand over Sean’s face.

“Sean?”

“What?”

“What’s your problem?”

“I’m tired.”

“Well, you better act happy around Daddy. Or else.”

“I know, Julia.”

She brushed the toast crumbs off against her thighs. She walked towards the door, glanced at him over her shoulder and then shut the door. He saw one of his flip flops near the door. He looked around the room, not seeing the other one anywhere. Finally, he found it under a dining room chair. He looked at the clock, sucked in his cheeks and ran, the screen door slamming once, twice, before shutting without latching.

Daddy was wearing a white dress shirt, so tight even while unbuttoned. The buttons were on the woman’s side so Sean knew it was Nana’s. His belly was hairy in a way that made Sean uncomfortable. He couldn’t imagine having hair like that, the unruly thickness nauseating to him.

Sean’s mother had made him fearful about getting older. She had said most men, including his father, didn’t bathe daily. Julia and his mother wrapped themselves up elaborately after a shower or bath, twisting towels around their hair, tying towels up at their armpits, sitting on the couch, soaking despite their towels and slippers.

Come to think about it, he had never seen Daddy emerge from the shower. He did run the sink a lot though, every time he went to the bathroom, while he sat on the pot, as he said, or brushed his teeth, or while he shaved, the whole time the water pouring like rain from the sink, loud enough so Daddy didn’t hear them on the other side but not so loud that Sean couldn’t hear him whistling.

“Daddy. Your outfit!” Julia cried.

“You like it?” he asked.

He was wearing cutoff jean shorts and his brown, curly hair was pushed back with water or gel, Sean wasn’t sure which.

“I love it!” she said.

“Kids, we’re going as the Titanic.”

“Yeah, right. Sean is a sorry excuse for Jack.”

Sean shrugged.

“Sorry, Sean,” Julia said. “Just being honest.”

“Julia, we’re not going as the movie. This is going to be the real thing. Not some Hollywood bullshit.”

“Okay, Daddy.”

The pontoon was at the dock, but Daddy shook his head.

“We’re taking this instead.”

The canoe had red, white, and blue pennants taped with black electrical tape to the top of the canoe.

Sean hesitated for a moment as he looked at the canoe. Why had Daddy spent so much time on the pontoon if they couldn’t even show it off?

The lake was calm. There was no swimming over in this section and so even though it was the Fourth, the air was quiet, no splashes or yells. Everyone would drink and grill and celebrate after; the boat parade was serious business.

Daddy jumped in first, euphoric in a way Sean hadn’t seen, not since he won $2,700 on a scratch off a few years back. He wanted to be happy for him, but he also wanted to disappear, run as far away from the boat, fast as he could. Before they got in, Julia held his wrist, using all her might to drag him towards the canoe.

“Sean, I remember life before you. But you will never know life without me.”

Because of the canoe’s small size, even though the water was not rough, Sean felt everything, the waves rocking him.

“All righty then,” their father said. “Let’s do this.”

Julia giggled. Sean looked for birds but saw none. Then he peered out over the side of the canoe, his face a wavy reflection. He wanted to see the bubbles from fish. He wanted anything to make him feel less alone.

“Am I the only one going to paddle?”

“I’ll help, Daddy,” Julia said.

It was quiet, except for Daddy’s laborious breathing and the lapping water pouring off the paddles. Sean put his elbows on the edge of the canoe, continuing to look into the water below. There wasn’t really room for him, so he tried to bend himself inwards, sandwiched between his father, who was in the rear and his sister in front. Sean knew they were paddling in a direction that had nothing to do with the boat parade, away from the connecting little lakes and towards something else entirely.

With Daddy so steadfast, Sean had a feeling they were headed out to the little island that was full of broken beer bottles and candy wrappers, deserted except for the people that must go there late at night or, like them, early in the morning, when you could do anything without prying eyes.

Sean thought he saw a beaver up ahead but wasn’t sure and anyway, it didn’t make him feel better. He wished he had a hat.

“Julia, you sure like helping your Daddy, huh?”

She looked back and nodded.

“And I love that about you. I really do. But — ”

“But what?”

“But Sean needs to man up. He’s never going to learn if you do all the hard stuff for him.”

“Okay.”

“Make him paddle.”

She froze. It was for just a few seconds but her father noticed — Sean, too.

“Now what did I say?”

“Sorry, Daddy.”

Julia tried standing, impulsively, then jerked down, wobbly. She crawled into Sean’s makeshift spot. Sean, wordlessly, scooted to the front.

He did his best as they went onward. The muscles of his arm ached. He felt like he was being watched — knew he was, sensed the quiet anger of his father and by Julia’s silence, understood that she blamed him for it. Despite his best efforts, Sean wasn’t quite sure if he was doing it right. He wished he were in the back so he could watch. He hated feeling the eyes on his neck.

“Not much to say, is there, son?”

Sean shrugged without looking back. Unlike Julia, he didn’t care about seeing their father’s face. He understood just by his voice how dark his mood was. He didn’t need to pretend otherwise.

“Do you know what it’s like to have a son that doesn’t give a damn about you?”

Sean closed his eyes. He was listening for owls or birds, wanting to hear anything besides the water. No mosquitos, no bees, no dogs. No fishing lines casting, no slack blowing in the wind, waiting for the clink of a reel. No boy laughing with his father. No teens talking, alternating ankles off a boat dock. Nothing except Julia, now crying.

“Answer me!”

Sean counted in his head, deciding that when he got to twenty, he would respond. He would soothe Daddy. Five-Mississippi. He heard clanking. Eight-Mississippi. It will be okay, he thought. He knew what to say. Twelve-Mississippi. He would joke about the shirt. He would —

The canoe tipped. Sean felt something hit his head. He opened his eyes, the water burning them. He saw Julia’s feet, kicking.

The water was like the sky now, vast and unknown. But how different! One with air, one completely devoid. He thought he could finally hear birds. Now, while he was underwater! Now, while he was dying! Isn’t it funny how life is like that? Everything too late. Well, he would die having heard them.

Death. He was dying! He didn’t want to die. Death. Death. And not just death. His death.

He had thought about it before, of course. When a cousin passed unexpectedly. How many people had cried. The nice things people said. All the hugs. Sean had thought about who would cry for him — in that way, the way only a funeral can evoke: dramatic, everyone sniffling, snot running down their faces like they’re helpless, like when he tickled Julia. No strength to even grab a tissue. Death killed something in everyone. Their self-respect lost, gone with the person who was buried. But in all those faraway thoughts, he never pictured himself dying before his mother. She would cry and cry and never stop. And if she lost Julia too — she’d never recover. He tried again to lift the canoe, using every ounce of strength he had.

Later, Sean would think about all the weekends he spent there afterwards. How it shaped most of his good memories, despite everything. How free he was there. How easily he walked barefoot and without a shirt. How the neighborhood dogs ran around without leashes, jumping and panting on him like he was family. Now, he went days without leaving his apartment. He wore shoes even to go to the basement laundry room. It took weeks sometimes to check his mail, to gather up the strength.

Just living was hard enough. Forget friends. Forget dating. Sean had never actually gone on even a single date — and now, Daddy worshiped women, would say, Son, I hope I didn’t scare you away from women forever. And Sean had almost laughed at that in a weary way. Like there was really no way to win.

He had tried to grab Julia’s arm but she pushed him away. They were trapped underneath the canoe. He started counting again. By thirty-Mississippi they would be ok, he was sure of it. He tried to lift the canoe off in a swift motion, but it was too heavy, like someone was holding it down. Through the waves, he saw his Daddy’s legs. He kicked them as hard as he could. He was thrashing, flailing, ready to dig his nails into his flesh. Water was in his ears but he heard another sound — not birds. A motor.

On that fateful Memorial Day when Sean brought it up, Julia said the obvious. The water was genial. There were houses overlooking the lake. The man on the boat saw them and helped them, all of them. Daddy needed just as much help as they did. Daddy would have drowned first, trying to save them. He was frantic. He was choking. He had stayed in the hospital the longest. And remember how Daddy had wept? She thought Sean was cruel; really, how heartless, how depraved could you be to accuse your father of something so heinous?

She loved Daddy so much. She always would, and she would never allow anyone, especially her selfish little brother, to think the worst about him. Sean was twisted, that was it, jealous after all these years that Julia was still the favorite.

But Sean saw it another way. He knew how cruel Daddy could be. He understood that side of him better than anyone. He had lived his life knowing his own father could, at any minute, snap and try — maybe successfully this time — to end it all for him.

And despite that, he loved him, he loved him, he honest-to-God loved him. That was why he was his father’s favorite.

Vanessa Ogle is a writer and educator. She is the Poetry Editor at The Metropolitan Review and writes Class is in Session.