My Daughter, Audrey [ON HOLD]

The Sweet Shop

Peter and Audrey had a lovely walk to the shop.  The air was cool, the sky was overcast, and everyone was bustling around doing their daily business.   Audrey skipped beside Peter, keeping a firm grip on his hand.  Once in awhile, she would stoop to the ground and select a stone to toss ahead of her.  

               “Daddy,” Audrey chirped, “We aren’t going back to America, are we?”

               “Never, love, unless I git a job out there, but I doubt it.  You’re ‘ere to stay.”

               “Good!  I hate America!”  Audrey declared with gusto, her mouth pinching in disgust at the remembrance of her previous home.

               “Ah, America is not that bad,” Peter softened, lifting Audrey in the air with one arm.   “Before we ‘it the shop, would ya fancy some sweets?”

               “Oh, yes!”  Audrey declared, excited at her good fortune.  She clapped her hands excitedly and giggled uncontrollably.   

               “I’ll race ya!”  Peter announced, giving Audrey the head start. 

               Audrey took off at a remarkable speed; her legs moving like pistons.  She made a sharp turn around a shop corner and dodged through an approaching crowd.  Peter lagged only a few feet behind her, making sure he didn’t lose sight of her.  

               “Alright, Audrey, stop there!”  Peter hollered, slowing down.

               Audrey skidded to a halt and caught herself before she rammed into the shop window.   Panting, she turned around smiling.   “I won!”

               “Yes, ya did, lass, yes, ya did.”  Peter came up to her and gave her a firm hug.   He tickled her and then smothered her in his kisses.   How wonderful it felt to kiss his little girl—the one who had been kept from him all these years.  “I love ya,” Peter whispered into her pink ear.

               Audrey tittered and gave Peter an affectionate peck on the cheek.  “I love you, too, Daddy!”

               “Good gracious!”   came a middle-age woman.  “You shouldn’t have your girl running around; so improper!”

               Peter looked up slowly and saw immediately that she was tourist.   Though, he wasn’t sure why anyone would want to tour the “sewers of Liverpool.”   “She’s a child; she needs to stretch her growin’ muscles.”

               “She needs to act like a lady!”  the woman snipped as she patted her toy-size dog.  “And good God, you shouldn’t indulge her sweet tooth either, young man!  What kind of father are you?”

               Peter felt a fiery rage explode inside his chest.  Insulted and angered at her comment, Peter went up to her, frightening her into backing four steps away from him.   “You listen ‘ere, woman, she’s my daughter; and only daughter.  If ya knew wot our story was, ya wouldn’t be openin’ that aged jaw of yours!”  Peter’s chest rose and fell in trembling anger.  

               “I’m sorry, sir, I was just trying to be--,” the woman stuttered, clutching her dog till it squeaked in discomfort.

               “You were tryin’ nothin’.  Git ya face out of it. Now, break!”  Peter gave her an informal toss of the head, his face expression remaining motionless.  

               The woman hustled out of view, muttered words to herself that sounded somewhat remorseful. 

               Peter turned around and saw Audrey sitting patiently on the ground, fingering the corner of her dress.  Peter knelt down and poked her chin lightly.  “Aye, Ace, don’t be down.”

               “I’m not.  I was just thinking about you and Ms. Jennie.”

               Peter’s eyebrows rose and he snickered.   “We’ll talk it over some peppermints or cakes.”   Peter took Audrey’s hand and led her into the sweet shop.

               They both shared a syrup covered crumpet and a cup of warm, ginger tea.   Audrey, through mouthfuls of the bready desert, spoke her opinions about Peter and Jennie.   “I think you ought to ask Jennie soon!”

               “Really?”  Peter replied in a teachable manner.   “When should I?”

               “Maybe tonight, after show.   You should—men that are with Mommy never ask to marry her.   You should before another man gets her!”

               “You’re right. I should probably.  But I’m afraid she’d say, ‘no,’” Peter confessed, forgetting that he was speaking to a child.

               “Why would she?  She said she loves you.  And she told me you were the most beautiful man ever!  Or was it, the most perfect man?”  Audrey stopped to contemplate.   But when she saw that her memory was not serving her properly at the moment, she continued happily, “Anyway, she really likes you.   You told me to be brave, I’m telling you to be brave!”

               Peter laughed at her sensibility.   “I’ll ask her, Ace.  Tonight, I’ll ask her.”