Jenny found herself trapped between her father and the fridge.
She could not get out of the way of him as he closed, slowly, but with his arms open he kept all the ways she could have avoided him blocked.
Blocked, so long as she felt unable to really hurt him…
He closed in on her, and he took her in his arms. It was a warm hug, but the way his arms slipped, the slight heaves in his chest, the way he buried his face in her shoulder, it was also a very sad hug too.
She couldn’t stop herself that well, and a few tears oozed from the corners of her eyes. She hovered between her arms staying limp at her sides and grabbing him as hard as she could; her grip was tentative, and her arms couldn’t find the right purchase on his body to stay around him.
It was both forever and too brief a time that the hug lasted, and when it broke she was torn between running as fast as she could away from him and hugging him tighter.
“Is that all you need?” he asked her.
She couldn’t look him in the eyes, she was afraid of bawling all over him.
“They also call them pubs and lounges here,” he replied, “And the place you’re looking for is the Bombardier Lounge.”
She slipped past him and got a few steps towards the door before she stopped and cast a glance behind her. She noticed that he was trying not to look at her, trying to fight back the tears too.
She ran, straight out the door, faster than the alarms that sang out for a few seconds before they cut off. She assumed their silence andthe lights on the lawn staying lit until she went out the gatewere her father’s doing.
That thought made her bleary-eyed until she got to the Bombardier Lounge.
Her eyes cleared right away as she walked in, lots of militaria from wars long ago with the Germans and recently with the Americans along all the walls, smoke thicker than the ruins from an artillery strike embedding her nostrils.
It took her only a few seconds to find Tia, leaning against the bar, a Scotch in her hand.
And it took only a few seconds to wind up her right fist, and connect it with Tia’s nose and upper jaw. Flecks of blood spurted out over the floor as Tia tumbled, splayed out face down.
Jenny didn’t move, even as she heard the grunts of patrons and rounds being chambered in their weapons…
All content Copyright © 2012 James Ryan