Ropyr
August 2014
My sixteenth birthday started out unusual. Birthdays in the Macken house were a big deal. Elaborate parties, loud colors, louder music, amazing food and my dad's famous homemade three-tier cake. I requested the triple chocolate and I wanted red flowers as the decoration. Not those sugar things that stick to the frosting. I wanted real, pretty and intricate icing flowers. Last night after dinner, Daddy said he'd get started because it was going to take all night. He said it with a smile, a good attitude like he was excited about baking his daughter a cake.
I woke up super excited. I took a shower, curled the ends of my hair and put on my favorite yellow dress. In typical Ropyr fashion, I opted for my high-top yellow Converse instead of the wedges my mom bought last week. A tiara from my friend Khouri completed the birthday look.
Once upon a time, Louise Macken was more casual. A jeans and t-shirt woman who loved to spend Friday nights on the back of my dad's Harley. Then, once the company started landing the big commercial jobs, she changed. I still loved her, and every once in a while I saw who she used to be. With her new friends she was all caviar and hundred dollar meals. When it was just the three of us, she bought fast food and ice cream and drank wine from a Disney glass.
The house was quiet. No music. No boisterous conversations floating up the stairs. Something weird was happening. I felt like Molly Ringwald in Sixteen Candles. Had my family forgotten about my most important birthday? Was my very own Jake Ryan going to show up later and kiss me? I didn't have a Jake Ryan. I didn't even have a nerdy Ted following me around. Boys didn't like me. Being a sixteen year old high school senior had a lot to do with that. Boys didn't like smart girls.
Downstairs I didn't see anyone either. The backyard was decorated with lights and streamers. The table had a white "HAPPY BIRTHDAY" covering. The DJ booth was set up. Nothing was making sense.
"Dad?" I called through the house. Maybe he and Mom ran out to get last minute supplies. I did ask for a photo booth.
I opened the front door to find my dad and his friend Ropyr tying a big red bow to a baby blue Buick Encore. We spent the last two weeks going to dealerships so I could test drive cars. I fell in love with this Encore. I can't explain why, but I did. Khouri said we should name it Cerulli after her rock star crush Chris Motionless. Khouri wasn't interested in getting her license. We rode with Alyssa and Nolan and she said that would work until she met a handsome, rich hockey player to drive her around. She had big dreams.
"OH MY GOD!! YOU DID NOT!!" I covered my mouth and ran over to the car. "Dad, really?"
He gave me a big bear hug. "You weren't supposed to see it yet, but yes, I did."
I was Bobby Macken's daughter. I had been driving since I was ten. Getting my license was probably the easiest test I ever passed. The Encore was supposed to be a gift after we got back from the DMV. He had this plan to blindfold me so I wouldn't see it, but I wrecked that surprise. I got my license in my brand new car! This was going to be the best day ever!
My friends were at the house when Dad and I came back from the DMV. I didn't have many, just those three. They lived in the same community, Khouri living right next door with her dad, Lewis. He owned the construction company with my dad. Alyssa and Nolan were the daughters of high powered bankers and investors, golf enthusiasts. My mom fit in right away, trading tight fitting thrift store band t-shirts for silk and cashmere. My dad was a rough-around-the-edges type, never to be seen in a suit and tie, but he was like gravity. Everyone was pulled to him.
My friends and I sang (horribly) karaoke and danced to out favorite boy bands and pop-punk songs. We ate lots of finger foods while trying to ignore Nolan's recently divorced aunt flirt with my dad. Then as the craziness began to calm and the sun started to set, police sirens drowned out Nick Lachey's beautiful voice.
Dad and Ropyr carried my cake out to the table as several police swarmed the yard. The music shut off. The guests froze where they stood. I stood by Khouri's side. We were taking selfies with different filters and making ridiculous faces.
"Bobby Macken, can we step over here a second?" An older, uniformed officer stepped over to the table. He wasn't aggressive. He was very polite and he half smiled at me before turning his attention back to my dad.
My dad, always cool and calm, looked defeated. He put the cake slicer on top of a plate, lowered his head and followed the officer to the side of the yard, near the gate.
"Ropyr, what's happening?" Khouri asked. She glanced around, looking for her dad, I guessed.
"I have no idea," I looked for my mom, finding her leaning against Ropyr. She looked as confused and horrified as I felt. I wanted to go to her, to hug her, but my feet were stuck. I couldn't make my legs move.
My dad and the officer who seemed to be in charge came over to me together. "I have to leave, Ri. I have to answer some questions and I can't do that here. You'll be okay. Everything is going to be okay," he wrapped his tattoos arms around me and kissed the top of my head. He held me like he didn't want to let go. "No matter what happens, you'll always be my Sunshine Girl. I love you, baby."
He was saying goodbye without saying the words. I knew that. I was a smart girl.
The party ended and everyone left. Khouri wanted to stay and I wanted her to stay. I needed my best friend, but our mom's said no. They agreed that my family needed to be together right now. Khouri promised to call me later. Nolan hugged me and whispered, "happy birthday," as she pulled away. Alyssa left without saying a word. No goodbye.
I sat on the white leather couch that my dad hated. Mom loved it and he never told her no about anything. "Can someone tell me what's going on?" I asked, looking between Ropyr and my mom.
Mom changed out of her green party dress and into jeans and a Metallica shirt. "I'm going down to the station. This is absurd. Bobby hasn't done anything. Ri, you stay here and I'll call when I know something. You can go over to Khouri's if you want."
"No!" I stood fast and looked at her in a way that said I wasn't backing down. "I want to go. I cannot stay here alone, Mom. I'll lose my mind. I'll be thinking the worst things."
She considered my request and looked at Ropyr. When he nodded, she did, too. "Okay, yeah, c'mon. We stick together."
My dad's best friend Ropyr drove us in his truck. I called him Uncle Ropyr since I learned to talk. He never married or had kids, and he was always around. He was family. I knew we would be safe with him. Whatever was going on with my dad, I knew that Ropyr wouldn't let anything bad happen to me and my mom.
As we were walking into the station, a much younger girl was rushing outside. She bumped into my mom, causing her to drop her bottle of Dr. Pepper.
"I'm so sorry," the girl said. She picked up the soda and handed it to my mom. "Louise," she said with a soft breath. She wiped away falling tears, streaking her mascara.
"Lydia," my mom stood straighter, squared her shoulders like she was preparing for a fight. "I assumed you had something to do with this?"
"I—I—" she looked at me and her eyes softened. I had no idea who she was. I'd never seen her before. "I'm so sorry," she said in my direction. She looked back at my mom and tightened her grip on her purse straps. "I'm so sorry. I have to go."
I watched her leave. She got into the passenger side of a bright red convertible. A guy wearing a baseball cap low on his head started the engine and, to my surprise, Dwight Yokum played from the speakers.
"C'mon," Ropyr tugged on my arm.
Inside the police station my mom was on a mission. She walked around yelling my dad's name, demanding to see him. She grabbed ahold of everyone in arm's distance and demanded to know where her husband was being held.
Someone came down the hall toward her. He wore khaki pants and a nice green button down. I'd seen enough police movies and true crime documentaries to know that he was a detective. Whatever happened, it was serious. They didn't bring detectives in for minor things. "Mrs. Macken?" Mom nodded. "Come with me. He's been asking for you."
Ropyr and I sat in cold, hard metal chairs in the lobby. The room smelled like dirty mom water mixed with stale coffee and cigars. I wasn't sure if my trouble breathing was due to that or the anxiety that was growing in my chest.
"Do you know who that girl was? My mom called her Lydia like they knew each other."
Ropyr, along with my parents, had never lied to me. They didn't keep secrets from me. They talked to me like I was an adult, not a dumb kid. "She's the bookkeeper at the company. Fresh out of college. She's an entitled brat."
"So, whatever happened is because of the company?" I asked. That didn't make sense because the police only left with my dad. Lewis was at the party, too, and no one even asked for him. He owned half the company.
"I don't know, honey. Hopefully, Louise can get some answers. If I knew more, I'd tell you." His phone rang from the holder on his jeans. He sighed when he saw the name. "I'll be right back. I've been trying to close on a new house."
I don't know how much time had passed. I fell asleep in that uncomfortable chair and woke up at the house on that ugly white leather couch.
My mom was in the back yard, on the swing. Her laptop open and a cigarette in her hand. I sat beside her. "He's not coming home. Is he?" I asked.
She sighed and closed the computer. "It's bad. I've always been honest with you and I always will be. There has been a lot of thefts from the company. Your dad took responsibility for all of it. There are a lot of young men on those crews. That little wench Lydia's boyfriend is one of them. I think your dad took the fall to protect those boys. That's the type of man your father is, Ropyr. He protects people." She stubbed out the cigarette under her shoe and got another from the pack, but she didn't light it.
My mom smoked off and on my whole life, usually only when she was stressed. I think this counts as a stressful situation. "We talked about it, and we agreed that you shouldn't be here. I bought you a train ticket to Honey Bell. Your dad's brother agreed to take you in. I'll take you to the train station in the morning."
I argued. I yelled. I cried and begged her to please please please let me stay. I didn't want to go. I would be a high school senior at a completely new school. I'd be such a loser. This wasn't fair.
She said I'd be better off there. Once the media got ahold of this story there would be no such thing as privacy anymore. Dad told her to go ahead and sell the house, move away from all this. Ropyr could let her stay at one his places. He made his money flipping houses and turning them into rentals. He'd be more than happy to help her out during all this.
I told my mom that I hated her. That I never wanted to see her or speak to her again. Then I boarded the train and didn't look back.
"I hope you like hugs," Douglas said as we got out of his truck.
I thought it was the most random thing to say until I heard my name and arms were around my neck. "I'm so sorry, honey, but I am so happy to have you here. Don't you worry about a thing. You're safe now. We're going to take care of you." Trina was shorter than me, and she had a dark blond pixie cut. She was heavier set and didn't dress the best. I needed to stop. I was sounding too much like Louise Macken.
Trina was pretty, and curvy. It was a late summer night, I'm sure the too large shirt and floral capri's were her pajamas.
"Thank you," I hugged her back.
On the porch was a boy I didn't recognize. He was tall and skinny, his brown hair fell into his face. He looked bored, like he was hoping for an escape route to magically appear. We had that in common. I secretly hoped that the front door would lead me into a John Hughes movie or that Lloyd Dobbler would be waiting for me with a plane ticket to Europe.
"This is Dawson. I'm sure you don't remember each other, it's been almost a decade since you've been here," Trina laughed nervously. "Dawson, say hello to Ropyr, then help your dad bring in her bags. After all her stuff is inside, you can go. I'm sure Belle is waiting for you."
"Hey," he said with a flat, uninterested voice. He bumped into my shoulder when he we went to the truck.
I followed Trina upstairs. The walls were a faded beige and held several family pictures and team photos from Dawson's baseball games over the years. He had the same green eyes as I did, as our dad's did. It was a Macken thing. She opened a door on the left and waved me inside.
A six drawer dresser. A full size bed with pink sheets and a quilt. One window. One nightstand with a vintage lamp. This was my home now. My bathroom in Florida was bigger than this room, but I was grateful that this family took me in. I needed to be more appreciative.
"I know it's not what you're used to, but you can decorate however you want. Paint the walls. Hang up posters. Whatever you want."
"It's perfect. Thank you. I love pink. It's my favorite color, next to yellow. My mom must have told you."
When she smiled, I could tell there was a sadness behind it. "She did. I couldn't find any yellow sheets, though. I must have went to four different stores." I felt her watching me as I looked around the room. "Don't be too hard on her right now, Ropyr. She's hurting, too."
I nodded and changed the subject. "The quilt is really cool. Did you make it?"
"I did, yeah," her voice picked up, she sounded happier. "It's shirts from all the concerts I went to over the years. I can't wear them anymore and I couldn't stand the idea of donating them. I remembered you dad telling us how much you loved music. We have some old family videos and I watched them last night, this morning. You must have been around four or five, but you were dancing in the backyard with some of Dawson's friends and singing into a little pink microphone. Reba McIntyre, I think," she gently laughed and I felt tears forming behind my eyes. "I don't know, I thought you might like it."
David Bowie. Cher. Bon Jovi. Dolly Parton. Hal Ketchum.
"I would have loved to have seen all these shows. Bon Jovi in the eighties was iconic, and Bowie is such a legend."
"Everything's in, so I'm out!" Dawson yelled from the hall.
"I'm sorry about him. Teen boys. You know how they are," I nodded, wondering if something else was bothering my cousin. "Listen, I'll let you get settled. The bathroom is across the hall. I'll be downstairs if you need anything." She hugged me again and this time I relaxed into her. "We're here for you, Ropyr. I promise."
"Thank you," I said against her shoulder. I spoke again before she closed the door, "Um, Trina?" She opened the door enough to look at me, "I'd love to see those family movies sometime."
She smiled. "Of course. Anytime."
I was not going to unpack everything that first night. The train ride was twelve hours, then an additional two hours in the truck. I was exhausted.
Douglas dropped my duffel bag inside the door beside the dresser. It was my overnight bag, pajamas, shampoo, my hair brush and toothbrush. I picked it up, already feeling my muscles relax thinking about the hot water running over them, but something fell off the bottom of the bag. A faded glow-in-the-dark star. I had them on my walls as a little kid. There on the floor was a pile of them, like someone had ripped them from wherever they were and discarded them without a second thought.
I picked them up and put them on the dresser. They were faded, obviously old. I looked around the room for where they could have belonged. On the ceiling were spots where the stars had been, at least three designs that stood out against the older paint. I couldn't make out what the designs were supposed to be, but I new that this room had belonged to someone else.
My new life officially started the next day.
The house was quiet, too quiet. I didn't like it one bit. I promised myself I would bring some life into this house while I was here. Everyone looked so sad and I knew it wasn't because of my dad. I knew it wasn't because I was here. This sadness was thick and unbreakable. Unbearable. Hard to breathe through.
When I came downstairs I heard laughing. Boys laughing. I froze for a second. I didn't want to upset Dawson, but I did want to make a good impression on everyone here. I wanted friends. I didn't want to walk through this new life, this new normal, like a zombie. My dad raised me to put my best foot forward, to walk into every situation with my crown on straight and my head held high. I was Ropyr Macken, I could do this. I wasn't going to be background noise.
Dawson and whoever he was sitting with were trading jabs about cereal choices. It was pretty funny but I kept my laughter to myself. "Good morning," I said. I didn't make eye contact with anyone. I wasn't that brave yet. Instead, I busied myself making a fresh pot of coffee. They had one of the knock-off K-cup machines and a small tray of different blends next to it. I didn't recognize the brand, but I did recognize the flavors. I picked the unflavored, strongest one. The one my dad would have picked.
"Settle something for us," the other boy said, sitting back in his chair with his arms folded across his chest. I was very aware of my tiny shorts and how the shirt I was wearing looked like I wasn't wearing them. "Golden Grahams or Frosted Flakes?"
I smiled to myself before turning around. Dawson had the Frosted Flakes box in front of him. I noticed that when I came into the room. I wanted him to like me. "Frosted Flakes," I took my coffee and joined them at the table.
"Tragic," the boy shook his head. "You're both dead inside," he grinned at me.
He was really cute. Like really cute. Obviously a baseball player. I say obviously because his biceps were barely contained in his short sleeves. He had well-kept honey colored hair under backward baseball cap. His nose was crooked, like it had been broken once or twice. The way he looked at me was unsettling, but it wasn't necessarily a bad thing.
"Ropyr, right?" He asked. I nodded, sipping my coffee. "I'm Davis," why did he have to keep smiling at me like that? "I'm having a pool party later. Good food, good music depending on who's in charge of the stereo. You should come."
Dawson shoved his chair back then dropped his bowl and spoon into the sink with a loud THUD. He didn't want me going to that party. I wasn't one for drama or confrontation. "I'll pass. I have a lot of unpacking to do before Monday."
The screen door slammed, making us both wince. "Sounds fake, but okay," he winked at me then went outside with Dawson.
Sounds fake, but okay? What did that mean? And why did it send chills down my spine when he winked at me?