"I'll talk about him any way I want to," Grace said. "Don't defend him to me, Ma."
"He drove me up here," her mother said. "He's parked just down the road waiting for me. Now would he do a thing like that for me if he didn't care about you?"
"Ma! Stop it!" Grace spun away, her anger rising. "I don't want to know where he is, what he's doing, and I sure as hell don't wanna hear about how he feels about me."
"Grace, please don't start a fight," her mother said.
"Why can't you just listen to me?" Grace asked angrily, turning around to face her. "You never listen to me."
"I do listen to you," the older woman said.
"Bullshit!" Grace shouted. "I told you." She clenched her hands into fists. "I told you and you didn't believe me."
"Please don't bring that up again," her mother said. "You know how it upsets me."
"Upsets you?" Grace yelped. "If it upsets you, you wouldn't be with him." She angrily kicked at a stone. "You're not upset about what he did, you get upset because I won't just pretend it didn't happen like you want me to." She stormed toward her mother, causing the older woman to back up and unbeknownst to her, Instructor Donaldson to come running toward them. "Well, it happened, Ma! That son of a bitch came into my room and raped me and you let him get away with it. Are you listening to me now?"
"Waters," the blonde instructor said as she approached.
Grace felt a firm hand land on her shoulder but jerked free. "You want to be with him? Then go." She pointed at the gate. "Be with a son of a bitch that has a thing for little girls. I hope you're real fucking happy."
"Grace, please don't be like this," her mother said, dabbing her eyes.
"Like what?" Grace shouted, taking yet another step toward her mother. "Like someone who won't go back to that hellhole?" Her eyes narrowed. "Never! Do you hear me? Never!"
"Waters!" Donaldson's sharp bark snapped Grace back to the moment. Looking down at her clenched fists, she realized just how close she had come to losing control. Forcing her hands to relax, she saw the crescent red marks where her nails had bitten into her palm.
"Don't come back," she said, glaring at her mother with all the anger and outrage she felt inside. "You had a choice and you chose him. As long as you're with him, you don't have a daughter."
"Grace-"
"No!" She turned away, feeling her throat tighten. "You were supposed to believe me, to..." Her eyes stinging, she closed them and shook her head. "Don't come back." She began walking toward her father, ignoring her mother's repeated calls to her. Never. I'll live with Dad or I'll get a place of my own or I'll be homeless, but I'll never go back there. I can't. She blinked rapidly as tears threatened to spill out. I'll kill myself first. Seeing her father holding his arms out, she ran the remaining distance.
"Come here," he said. The tenuous hold she had on her emotions broke as soon as she was in her father's arms. She began crying, scalding hot tears soaking into his flannel shirt. "Tell Daddy what happened," he said, stroking her head like he did when she was young.
All Grace could do was shake her head and cry, taking comfort in his strong arms.
"Okay, pumpkin, okay. Daddy's got you," he said over her sobs. "Shh, Daddy's got you."
"Mr. Waters, if you'd like to take her inside." It was Carey's voice, though Grace had not heard her approach.
"Do you want to go inside?" he asked. Grace sniffled and shook her head, clinging tighter to his shirt.
"There's a lake up that path," Carey said. "She knows the way."
This time Grace nodded. "O-okay." She felt a hand much smaller than her father's gently rub her shoulder.
"Grace," Carey said, giving a gentle squeeze. "I hope you have a good talk," she said before stepping back. "Take all the time you need."
Wiping her eyes with her sleeve, Grace pointed at the path. "It's this way," she said, keeping one arm around her father's side. His arm went around her shoulders and they quietly began walking up the dirt path, gradually becoming surrounded on either side by trees with only the sounds of birds and crickets to keep them company.
"I love you, pumpkin," he said. "Whatever it is, you can tell me." "Daddy..." It felt so strange to her to say that word after so many years. "Dad. I've done things...I mean..." She looked down the path unable to make eye contact. "I...I'm not a virgin."
"I suppose I'm too late for the father-daughter chat, hmm?" he said, gently squeezing her against him. "I hope you used protection and that you cared for him."
"You'll love me no matter what?" she asked, feeling her throat tighten as the lake came into view.
"No matter what," he said.
Grace disengaged herself and sat down on a fallen log. She rested her elbows on her knees and stared at the ground. "I don't know if I can tell you this."
He sat down next to her. "I suppose you're too old to sit on my lap?"
She nodded. "At least six years," she said. "But..." She lifted his arm and he shifted closer, allowing her to rest her head against his chest. "You always wore flannel," she said, inhaling the scent of her father's cologne and smiling at the memories it evoked.
"That's what you get for having a lumberjack for a father," he said. "But you graduate from college and I'll buy whatever suit you want me to wear. Come here." He pulled her closer, then kissed the top of her head. "You want to talk about it?"
She shook her head. "Not now," she said, snuggling against his chest. "But sometime, maybe."
"Whenever you're ready," he said, stroking her hair. "Anything you want to tell me."
"Anything?"
"Anything," he repeated, giving her a gentle squeeze. "So, any boyfriends?"
Grace smiled and rubbed her cheek against the soft flannel. "No."
"Girlfriends?"
Her head shot up. "Why would you say that?"
He chuckled and pulled her back against his chest. "You said no to a boyfriend so there's really only one other option unless you plan on going into the nunnery."
"I don't have a girlfriend either," she said. "Would it bother you if I did?"
"I told you," he said, rubbing her upper arm. "If you're happy, that's what matters."
Grace was quiet for several moments before gathering up the courage to speak. "Dad? What if I told you I think I'm gay?"
"Are you asking me or telling me?" He gently rubbed her shoulder. "I love you, Grace. You can't help who you love and if being a lesbian feels right to you then that's just the way it is," he said, kissing the top of her head. "You're old enough to know how you feel about that."
Taking a deep breath, she brushed her cheek against the red flannel of her father's shirt. "It does feel right," she said.
"So tell me," he said softly.
"I'm...I'm a lesbian, Dad."
"And you're still my little girl and I love you," he said, his blond beard scratching her forehead. He released her from his embrace and swung his leg over the log so he was facing her. Using his thumb, he wiped away the moisture on Grace's cheek. "Of course no one will ever be good enough for you in my eyes," he said, causing her to smile. "Does your mother know?"
Grace shook her head. "No."
"Why?"
She straddled the log, then began picking at the bark. "We don't talk about things like that." A sliver of bark went flying. "Ever." Another piece. "Even when..." The pain, still so close to the surface, threatened to bubble over. "Even when I told her, she wouldn't believe me," she said, her fist coming down hard on the log. "I told her and she fucking didn't believe me."
"I'll believe you," her father said, covering her fist with his hands.
"You can tell me."
"I can't." Despite her earlier words to the contrary, she climbed onto his lap, feeling his strong arms holding her safe. "I love you, Dad," she said, burying herself against him. "Please don't make me go back and live with them. Please."