A Family Torn

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Recently divorced, they were a family being torn apart.
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laptopwriter
laptopwriter
3,492 Followers

Copyright © 2017

***WARNING***

This story deals with a very real problem in our society—the sexual abuse of a minor. It in no way glorifies or condones but treats it as the heinous crime that it is. Before even writing this story, I checked with Laurel and made sure I followed the guidelines she provided so please don't go reporting it. If this subject is offensive to you, please take a pass. Thank you.

***

"Ahhh, son-of-a-b..." Tom cursed out loud from frustration. Between three days of solid rain and the melting snow, half the streets in Chicago were closed because of flooding. It was like driving through a watery maze just to find his way onto the expressway only to discover his exit was now closed as well. He had no choice but to keep going and hope the next one was passable.

Inwardly he told himself to relax. Hell, it wasn't as if he had someone at home waiting for him. So it took him an extra half hour to get home—big deal. It wasn't like his wife had dinner waiting or his daughter was waiting for help with her homework. That life ended almost a year ago for him. Still, he was relieved with the absence of a 'Road Closed' sign as he came up on the next exit.

He was still choreographing his car through the suburban streets when he heard his phone ringing from his pocket. "Sorry, you're going to have to wait until I can find my way home through his mess," he said. "Damn, I've got to stop talking to myself," he continued. "People are going to think I'm going bonkers."

Finally, he thought, as he pulled into the parking lot of his apartment complex. It had taken him an hour and twenty minutes to make a thirty-five minute drive. He pulled the collar of his coat over his head as he made a mad dash between rain drops, splashing his way to the front door.

He took off his coat and hung it up. He was tired and exasperated, but most of all depressed. He just wasn't himself these days. Since his divorce things seemed to be drifting slowing down hill. Even his photography business wasn't living up to its potential...not to mention his daughter was getting more and more moody on her bi-weekly visits...almost like she didn't want to be with him anymore. She had a new daddy now and evidently the bastard was winning her over. Out of all the things that had happened over the past year, that was by far the hardest to deal with.

Tom was in the middle of eating dinner when he remembered his phone ringing earlier. He pulled it from his pocket and checked the display. It was Angela, his ex. He wasn't about to eat cold fish so he put off calling her back until he was done.

He rinsed his plate, stuck it in the dishwasher, and poured himself a cup of coffee before getting comfortable in his recliner. He really didn't feel like talking to his ex but she only called on issues concerning their daughter so he knew he had to do it.

She sounded friendly enough when she answered. "Hi Tom, thanks for calling back."

"Yeah, no problem. What's the matter?"

He heard a small sigh into the phone. He guessed, from the flat tone of his voice, she knew he wasn't interested in small talk and he sure as hell didn't want to talk about the weather.

"I was wondering if Lana has said anything to you about something troubling her."

"To me? No. She hardly speaks to me at all these days. Whatever you're filling her head with seems to be working, congratulations."

"Tom, what are you talking about? Filling her head with what?"

"How should I know with what?"

"Tom, okay we've had our differences but you can't believe I'd try to poison our daughter against you."

"Oh come on, Angie, you've got a new husband, she's got a new daddy, I'm just the inconvenient ex-husband; get her to reject me and you can all live as one big happy family with me out of the way."

"Tom, Dayton is not my husband, at least not yet. And you're the only daddy Lana has."

"He's living in the same house, isn't he...sharing your bed?"

In the two or three second delay from the other end of the phone he could almost hear her blood-pressure going up. "Fuck you!" she yelled before the line went dead.

Tom took a sip of coffee and stretched back. About the only fun in life he had anymore was making his ex-wife mad. Did he really think she was trying to poison his little girl against him...maybe. He wasn't sure what she'd do these days. He sure didn't expect her to move someone into the house so soon after he moved out. Nobody falls in love that quickly—unless they had been seeing each other before he even filed for divorce. That would sure explain the lack of sex, her short temper and her always picking fights with him when they were still married. He had absolutely no proof that she was cheating on him, with this guy or anyone else, but it sure seemed logical and it galled him something terrible.

His mind was churning. I suppose I'll never know the truth, he thought. Oh well, what difference does it make now. She and shithead will soon be happily married and she's moving on with her life...which is what I need to do!

Tom closed his eyes and went over the events of the last year in his mind. In the beginning he felt liberated when they split up; no more constant fighting. Of course it would be hard on Lana but he was confident they'd both work hard to make sure she knew they both still loved her very much.

At first he wasn't too crazy about the divorce settlement, but after he thought about it, he knew it was for the best. She got the bulk of the savings and the house in trade for giving up any claim on the business. What the hell, that way Lana would still be able to go to the same school, have the same friends, and live in the same house she'd lived in all her life. Child support was reasonable...

Things actually didn't seem to be that bad until she moved her boyfriend in. It was hard enough to think of the guy sleeping with his wife in his bed, but becoming a father figure to HIS daughter...that was the kicker that started it all. That's when he started to feel that his whole life was nothing but a waste. That's when he started feeling depressed all the time.

What's happened to me? He asked his inner-self. I used to be a confident, take charge kind of guy. I've got to stop laying around feeling sorry for myself. I've got to prove to Lana that I'm still her dad and always will be.

He thought more of the short conversation he'd just had with Angela. It starts this weekend, he promised himself. If something is bothering Lana it's my job as her dad to find out what it is.

He had tried a few times over the past several months to raise himself out of his funk but it didn't last. He'd sink right back down every time he wondered what was going on in his former house...with his former family. Okay...maybe his marriage was dead but by God he was still a dad and he made a vow then and there that he was going to start acting like it. Time for mourning was over.

Now...if he could only get the bloody rain to stop!

That Saturday morning he pulled into his former driveway right on time. At least it had finally stopped raining. Lana looked unenthused as she exited the house and started for the car.

He rolled the driver's window down. "Honey, would you ask your mother to come outside for a minute, please. I want to talk to her."

She turned around, opened the front door wide enough to stick her head inside and yelled. "Mom, dad wants to talk to you." With no more fan-fair, Lana walked around the front of the car to the passenger's side and slipped in.

"How you doing, pumpkin?" Tom asked with a kiss on her cheek.

A flat, "Okay," was her only response.

They sat and waited in silence for another minute or so until he saw Angela step outside wearing a coat. He got out of the car and approached her on the porch. "Listen, I wanted to say I'm sorry for the other night. You caught me in a bad mood."

She acknowledged his apology with nothing more than a slight nod of her head. She was letting him know she was still pissed.

"So, it sounds like she's acting the same way here as she's been acting with me. Over the last few weekends she's hardly said twenty words to me."

"She seems really depressed lately," said Angela, breaking her short-term silent treatment. "She won't talk, she hardly eats anything. I know she's losing weight, I can see it. I've tried just talking to her about school, friends, just stuff in general, but she refuses to carry on any kind of conversation. After dinner she goes up to her room and stays there. I'm really getting worried, Tom. I haven't seen her smile in weeks."

"She's probably still pissed at us for breaking up. That has to be traumatic for her."

"I don't know. Yeah, she was upset with both of us after you left but she seemed to be dealing with it. All this other stuff started a few months ago."

"Do you think she's getting bullied or something at school?"

"I don't know, Tom, but it's not getting any better. If anything she's getting worse."

"Okay, I thought she was just acting that way around me. Let me see if I can find out anything over the weekend. Maybe she'll talk to me."

"I'd appreciate it, thank you. If it continues, I...I don't know; maybe we should take her to counseling or a psychiatrist or something."

"Well, let me see what I can find out first," he said.

She agreed and Tom went back to the car wondering about his little girl. She was only fifteen and she had gone through a lot; first her folks get divorced, then her mom moves her boyfriend in and all of a sudden she has a new dad...yeah, that's a lot for a fifteen year old to handle.

"Okay, pumpkin," he said as he climbed into the driver's seat, "where do you want to go for breakfast?"

All weekend long Tom pumped his daughter, trying to find out what was bothering her, but it was no use. He asked her about school, her girlfriends, a possible boyfriend, her new dad, her mom...she just kept saying everything was alright.

Tom dropped her off at the house on Sunday night then called Angela later to inform her of his lack of progress. The concern in her voice was palpable.

"What do you think? Should we look into counseling for her? I talked to Dayton but..."

"You talked to Dayton about our daughter before talking to me?"

Her fiancé was a real sore spot with her ex, she knew it and didn't mean to let her comment slip. "No, I didn't talk to him before you but he lives here now, Tom. You've got to accept that. He's obviously going to have some influence over what goes on in the house."

There was a pause before Tom spoke again. "Let me think about the counseling. I'll let you know. And just so you understand--Lana's welfare is our responsibility, yours and mine, not Dayton's." With that he severed the call.

Her fiancé was sitting in the living room. "What's his problem now?"

"Nothing. I asked him to see if he could talk to Lana this weekend; see if he could find out what's been bothering her, but..."

"I told you, she's going through a phase, that's all. Leave the kid alone. She'll snap out of it when she's ready."

"Dayton, she's my daughter. I can't help but worry about her. This is more than some phase."

"Hey, I love her like a daughter too, you know. You don't think I want what's best for her? She's a teenager. They're always going from one crisis to another. Have you forgotten what it was like being that age? I'm telling you, she doesn't need some shrink screwing with her head. She's a good kid. Give her some space. She'll work it out for herself."

Maybe he was right, she thought. Angela recalled some of her own rebellious antics at that age. Still...she knew Dayton loved Lana but he wasn't her real dad. It wasn't like he was in the delivery room holding her hand during labor like Tom was. It wasn't his eyes that showed an overwhelming pride when he held his little girl in his arms for the first time. She certainly didn't want to belittle Dayton's love for Lana in anyway, but Tom was right about them being responsible for her well-being. It didn't matter that Dayton was now first in her own life; Tom would always be first when it came to their daughter.

When Tom and Angela were married Tom had everyone's health care covered under his photography studio's insurance. When they divorced, Angela had to get her own insurance through her employer but Tom kept Lana on his. On Monday morning Tom checked to see if she'd be covered for psychiatric counseling. The co-pay was $50 a visit but the balance was covered. That was good news. It had been a long, hard winter. Between several jobs being either cancelled or postponed because of weather, the enormous heating bill for the studio, and his child support payments, Tom wasn't exactly living high on the hog. Later that night he called Angela again.

She and Dayton were in the living room watching TV. Lana was in her room doing homework when the phone rang. She had to get up from the couch and walked over to where the phone was charging on the table.

"Hi Tom," she answered.

"Hi, Angie. I've been giving some thought to counseling for Lana and I think it's probably a good idea. Did you have anyone in mind?"

"Ah, no, not really," she said, glancing in Dayton's direction. "Do...ah...do you think she could just be going through a stage?"

"Angie, I have no idea. You're with her a lot more than I am but there's no doubt something is wrong. When I tried talking to her last weekend she wouldn't even look me in the eye. You know yourself, that's not like her.

"Just a few days ago you were all gun-ho for getting her into counseling. Are you changing your mind?"

"No, it's just—well Dayton is pretty sure she's just going through a stage and..."

"Screw what Dayton thinks. Is he there? Let me talk to him."

"He is but I don't think that'd be a good idea. No, no I think we should make her see someone."

Dayton decided to join in the conversation. "What if she doesn't want to see a shrink? Then what'll you do? You can't force her to go."

"What'd he say?" Tom asked. He heard Dayton say something but couldn't hear clear enough to tell what it was.

"He asked what if she won't go," replied Angela. "He has a point, Tom; what if she refuses to go, then what?"

"I guess we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Don't say anything to her yet. Let me do some research, first. I don't want to just pick somebody out of the yellow pages. This is our baby we're talking about. I want to find someone I have confidence in."

"Okay, but don't take too long, will you. I really think the sooner we can get her to see somebody the better it'll be."

"Yeah, okay. Give me two or three days. I'll give you a call back Wednesday night if not sooner, okay?"

"Okay. Thanks, Tom."

Dayton just gave a little sigh and put his arm around her as she reclaimed her seat next to him. He finally spoke when a commercial interrupted the show they were watching. "I'm telling you, you're making too big a deal over this stuff with Lana. You keep pushing her and it's only going to make things worse. She's a teenager, she's rebelling; the more you push the more she's going to rebel."

"Maybe you're right, Dayton, I don't know. All I know is she's my daughter and I'm going to try and help her as much as I can."

"Okay," he cautioned, "don't say I didn't warn you."

No more was said and Angela left it that way.

Tom was doing some research into child psychologists in the Chicago land area. There were quite a few resources on line with helpful information. He narrowed it down to four then called them to ask several question regarding insurance and possible time schedules.

By the time he called Angela back on Wednesday evening he had two potentials. The next order of business was how to approach their daughter. They decided she would bring Lana over to his condo Saturday morning where they could talk in private.

Angela didn't bother to inform Dayton of their plans. He usually slept in until nine-thirty or ten on Saturdays so she was hoping she and Lana could slip out of the house before he even got up.

That Friday afternoon their plans became irrelevant. Tom was setting up to photograph a shoe display for one of his clients when his phone rang. He was surprised to see it was Angela calling. She never called him from work. Before he even had a chance to say hello he heard her crying.

"Angela, what's the matter?"

She sniffled a couple times and had to catch her breath. "Tom, the...the school just called. Th...they found marijuana in Lana's locker."

Tom felt like someone had hit him with a sledgehammer. From what he'd heard and read about teenagers and drugs, it all made sense now. His wife's voice broke through the fog in his brain.

"I've got to go over there and pick her up. They want to see both of us on Monday." Her voice was breaking from stress as she talked. "Would...would you be able to make it?"

"Of course; just let me know what time to meet you."

"O...okay, thanks. I'll find out when I pick her up. They said she'd be in the principal's office. They're suspending her for three days but they said if they catch her again they'll automatically expel her. Oh God, Tom, I'm so scared," she wept.

He was scared, too...and feeling guilty. Was all this because of the divorce? Maybe if he hadn't filed none of this would be happening. He was also feeling sorry for his ex for the first time in years. The heart-wrenching anguish in her voice was stirring up feelings he though were long gone. He had always been the strong one. He knew her. Emotionally she was a wreck and he found himself wanting to hold her and assure her things would work out.

"Tom, what is it? Are you okay?" Cayla, his assistant, saw the concern in his face as he disconnected.

"That was Angela. They found marijuana in Lana's locker at school. They're suspending her. Angela has to go down to the school and pick her up."

It was easy to see how badly the news of his daughter had shaken him. Cayla offered to do the shoot but if he didn't continue working he'd go insane.

He and Angela talked a couple times over the weekend. He asked her if Dayton was getting on Lana's case because of the drugs but she said no. In fact, he's pretty much sluffed it off just saying kids will be kids.

They decided to forget about talking with her on Saturday until after meeting with the school principle. The appointment was arranged for three o'clock Monday afternoon. They both arrived on time and were shown into an office by one of the secretaries who shut the door behind her. A nice looking man, probably in his early fifties, stood up to greet them. A younger, heavy set woman sitting beside him stood as well.

"Mr. Hayden, Ms. Hayden, thank you for coming," he said as he shook both their hands. "I'm Peter Colfax, the principle here. This is Terry Donahue, the school's social worker. Please, have a seat."

As everyone took their places Mr. Colfax looked at Angela. "I'm sorry, I know you're divorced. Is it still proper to call you Ms. Hayden?"

"Yes, that's fine," she replied.

"Okay," he said with a smile.

Tom could see the man really didn't like this part of his job.

"As you know, Lana was found with marijuana in her locker. One of the teachers just happened to be walking by when she was getting her books. These days we're all trained to spot that kind of thing at a glance."

"Did you call the cops?" Tom asked.

"No, we didn't. There wasn't enough. In Illinois, it's not a criminal offense unless you're caught with more than ten grams. The little bit that Lana had fell short of that so we didn't have to call in the authorities; however, an automatic suspension of three days is school policy no matter how little the amount."

Both Tom and Angela nodded, showing they understood.

"Schools don't like to pry into anyone's home life but you have to understand, the welfare of our students is our top priority. Your divorce was hard on Lana as Miss Donahue can attest. Lana spent many hours with her during that time."

laptopwriter
laptopwriter
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