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 ^{(it's beta!)}

(John walks up the stairs and sighs. His tie is untied and he has a brief case in hand. He is obviously exasperated. He walks slowly towards the bar counter and plop down, dropping his brief case on the counter. He sighs again)

Scotch on the rocks, Frank. Leave the bottle. (rests head in hands and groans, then grabs glass and takes a swig.) Jenna got sent home from school again… I was at work so she went to her aunt Christa’s. She was drinking behind the school again with those new friends. I told her, not, to hang out with them anymore, but hey. What right do I have to ask her that? I’m only her father… You know, when I asked her what happened, you know what she said to me? “Fuck off. Quit trying to do mom’s job” Quit trying to do mom’s job! Like it’s only a mother’s job to care! (shakes head) I do care. I just also care about keeping us financially secure. (takes another drink)You remember, at Denise’s funeral, when Jenna asked me if I would quit my job, and I said no? She wouldn’t leave her room for a week... and little Becky wouldn’t leave my sight. She’d cuddle up to me, every night before bed, and ask where Mommy was. What was I supposed to say? She was three. And she’d ask, why Jenna wouldn’t play with her, and why Big CC, why Chantel was always out. How could I explain that shit to my baby? (takes another swig) I’m trying Frank. I’m really trying. I just don’t get girls. I didn’t get them in high school, and I don’t get my own daughters now. Denise was one of a kind. The kind of girl I got. Why couldn’t her daughters inherit the trait? I love them, they’re my everything but I just don’t get them! Chantel’s graduating this year, but she’s out almost every night. I want to tell her off, but I keep telling myself that it’s normal. That she lost her mother. Besides. It’s not affecting her grades… I don’t get how she makes valedictorian when she doesn’t even try. She wants to move out. Start work. With a mind like hers, she just wants to work. She could become a scientist, or a teacher. Help kids like our little Becky! (sighs) Oh Becky. Her speech is finally getting a bit better, but the psychologist tells us she won’t be ready for kindergarten next year. He says she’s still speaking at an age 3 or 4 level. That she still needs to develop. Probably doesn’t help that she stays at her aunts all day. That I can’t be there with her. (Takes another drink, then starts to laugh half wittedly) Hey, Frank? I ever tell you bout Jenna’s first period? (beat) Denise woulda loved it. Me? I crashed through it, and I had to do it alone. Chantel wouldn’t help and Denise’s sister was in Hawaii. Have you ever been tampon shopping Frank? It’s a nightmare. There are slims, lights, supers, regulars. Some that open like skirts, some that open like… half of a skirt. And that’s only the tampons. Women can use pads too. Maxi pads, thin pads, lite pads, scented pads, padded pads, thong pads (Shudders) I pray to god every night that my daughters don’t use those ones. I think it might have gone better if I hadn’t made one of the boxes talk like it had a mouth… She was so young. Nowadays, when I’m washing her sheets, I find bloody stains, but I don’t want to ask. I suggested that all the girls talk to Becky’s psychologist, that he was there if either any of them needed him, not just Becky, but they shot me down. Why seek help when you can search for it at the bottom of a bottle. (glances at bottle of scotch) Right… (lies head on arms and moans) I’m no better, I know that, but can you blame me? I lost the woman I love and I’m looking after three girls! My oldest goes through boyfriends like nobodies business and from what I hear has a pretty shitty reputation at school for it. My middle kid is doing god knows what to herself and I’m sitting back, just worrying about what to do, and my youngest doesn’t understand half of the stuff I tell her! Sometimes I wonder if I should just leave. They’d be perfectly fine with Christa. Sometimes I- (Phone goes off, he takes it out and answers it) Hello? Oh, Christa, hi. What’s going on, you sound- What’s wrong with Becky? I’ll get a taxi home as fast as I can! Yeah. Bye. I gotta go. (slams cash on table, grabs brief case and runs off stage.)