Dearly Departing

late autumn afternoon. There was a line of vehicles parked along the curb, mostly taxis, shuttle vans, and limousines, but no sign of his daughter’s car. Ray was starting to get worried. He walked the length of the airport entrance and came to the outdoor smoking area.
A girl was sitting on one of the cement benches, sucking down a last bit of cigarette. She was wearing a puffy white parka—the only big thing about her. The rest of her was skinny long legs and a mess of long blonde hair. She looked up at Ray and her dark-ringed eyes opened wide.
“Dad!”

 
 
 
 
Chapter 5
“I thought you quit smoking.”
Dawn butted the cigarette in the stone ashtray and hugged her father. “I had a long night.”
He could smell the booze on her breath. “And drinking, too? For God’s sake, Dawn. Did you drive here?”
The young woman started to stammer. “No... It wasn’t like that. I didn’t touch the stuff until I got to the airport. Honest.”
Yelling at his daughter in public wasn’t going to help. He guided her across the road and into the parking lot. “Where’s your car?”
She took him to the Cruze. There were no snide remarks about the long walk. He didn’t start talking again until his suitcase was stowed in the trunk and they were both sitting inside the front. Ray was behind the steering wheel. He held his palm up. “Keys.”
He started the car and looked straight ahead at the gas gauge. “Empty. You had money for booze and cigarettes, but not enough to get us out of the parking lot.”
“I didn’t have a drink in over a week. I quit smoking longer than that.”
Ray backed the car out and drove to the parking booth as quickly as possible to pay the fee. They were on a backstreet heading for the city center less than a minute later. “So why did you start both up again?” He glanced over at her and tried a gentler approach. “Seeing your old man for the first time in over a month that stressful of an event for you? I know I’m a pretty important guy, but I had no idea.”
It all came pouring out of her as he pulled into a gas station. “I wasn’t going to drink, Dad. I don’t even remember putting that bottle in the glove box. I was exhausted, and my head was hurting so bad.”
Ray slipped the attendant a fifty-dollar bill through the window crack and reached across the console to inspect the back of Dawn’s skull. “You’ve got a pretty good bump growing there. That bastard... We should get you to a hospital and have it checked out.”
“I’m okay. I think I passed out from almost choking to death. I’ve taken worse hits to my head. Please, Dad—no hospitals.”
Against his better judgement, Ray gave in to her. He spotted a restaurant across the street. “Let’s go for an early supper. It looks like you haven’t been eating all that well, either.”
“I don’t have any money.”
“I didn’t ask.”
They found a secluded table-booth inside and ordered burgers and fries. “It’ll be good eating Canadian food again,” he said. Ray tried his coffee and winced. “I’ll miss the Dominican coffee, though.”
“Happy belated birthday.”
“Thanks, Girl-of-Mine.”
“I should’ve said that last night on the phone.”
“You had other things on your mind. We both did.”
Dawn took a bigger sip of coffee than her father. The heat sliding down her throat was already doing wonders for her headache. “Did you check the flights to Kelowna yet?”
“I phoned your Uncle David as soon as we landed. Grummy isn’t doing well, but she’s stable. The next plane out doesn’t leave until tomorrow morning. There’s a six-hour stopover in Calgary.”
“Did you buy a ticket?”
Ray reached over and held her hand. It felt cold and fragile. “I wanted to check in with you first... make sure you were doing alright.”
“I’m doing better now. I won’t screw up like that again. I threw most of that bottle away.”
“You don’t have to take this on all alone.” Ray suddenly remembered the talk Dooley had tried having with him out on the balcony of their resort room. The irony made him smile. “Maybe we should travel out west together. It would be nice for the whole family to meet like that.”
“I can’t leave. I don’t have money for supper, how am I going to come up with airfare?”
“I’m not exactly destitute.” Ray stared at her for a long time. “Speaking of destitute... You either quit your job, or you got canned. Judging from the look of you, and your absolute lack of cash, I’m guessing you were fired.”
Dawn rolled her eyes and looked to the ceiling. “How can you figure that stuff out so easily?” She fought off tears and started laughing at the same time. “It’s like you’ve been able to read my mind ever since I was a little kid.”
Ray chuckled along with her. “You were my only kid. You had all of my undivided attention.”
Their meals showed up a few minutes later. Dawn’s headache was completely gone, and her appetite was ravenous. She’d finished cleaning off her plate before her father had even eaten half of his cheese-burger. She let out a long, low belch and started laughing again. “Whoops.”
“You have any room left for dessert?”
“Probably, but I don’t plan on finding out.”
They talked about Grummy for awhile. Ray ordered a second cup of coffee and told some of his stories about growing up on the farm—how it had been with his two older brothers, and the weekly visits with Gramma Minnie.
“I love your stories, Dad. It must have been wonderful. I wish sometimes I’d had a couple of brothers and a sister to play with.” She saw the smile drop from his face. Dawn wished