In Plain Sight

Chapter Two - Arizona

Life with my dad was a dream compared to living with my mom. My dad treated me with respect and as long as I kept an open line of communication, I was able to make my own decisions. I often find myself wondering how different my life could have been if I grew up under my father's care. I've come to understand, though, that his decision to not fight for full custody was not one of selfishness. He worked graveyard shifts at Intel, which required him to sleep during the day. It wasn't a very realistic schedule when raising children alone. But I was only three months shy of 18 when my mom finally sent me to live with him. I was capable of taking care of myself and allowing my dad the quiet he needed during the day.

Prior to my arrival, my dad had been renting a 3-bedroom house with a co-worker. Matt was an interesting character. He often talked about how well off he was, and constantly flaunted his collection of Corvettes as well as the arsenal he kept upstairs. Every time he bought a new gun, he made sure to hand it to me so I could "get a feel for the weapons." In actuality, he wanted an excuse to brag about how much power he had at his disposal. I didn't mind though. His incessant need to show off meant I got to enjoy the thrill of riding in the passenger seat of the Corvette for the everyday necessities.

Matt and I got along well during my first year in Arizona. He would take me to his weekly bowling league, where I quickly became his team mascot. When it came time for the league championship in Las Vegas, everyone expected me to be there. So, during my first summer in Arizona, I got to take my first road trip to Vegas. Though I wasn't 21, the guys didn't mind taking turns "babysitting" me while we were there. That weekend was one of my fonder memories with Matt, who had come to call himself my second dad.

Soon after, though, Matt's attitude toward me shifted. He believed that because I was a woman, I should cook and clean and he and my dad shouldn't have to lift a finger around the house. I disagreed with his outdated views.

I expressed my disgust to my dad, and that I was planning on moving out. He told me that he finally had one of his children living with him, and he wasn't ready for me to leave. So, we agreed that we would get an apartment by my 19th birthday. This gave us about six months to find a place and give Matt enough time to find a new roommate.

In the meantime, I spent my days going to the local community college to become a high school theater teacher. I made friends in the theater and genuinely enjoyed my days at school and preparing for the semester play. I hadn't made the cut as an actor for the fall show, but that didn't stop me from being as involved as possible. I submitted for the role of Stage Manager and was given the job. My days were spent running lines with actors, building sets, preparing the lighting and sound cues. I also handled any other odds and ends that the director requested. As the Stage Manager, it was my job to sit at a podium that was situated about 3 feet off stage. I wore a headset and kept a script in front of me during the performances. I was the person behind the curtain directing the chaos of the behind-the-scenes crew. The first act of the show was quite uneventful for the technical crew, though. We spent most of the first act gossiping in whispers into the headsets.

The week before opening night, we got the news that our narrator was forced to drop out of the show. The director found a replacement in less than 24 hours. The first time I saw Randy was when he came onto the stage during his first rehearsal. Randy matched me in height at 5'7" and couldn't have been more than 140 pounds soaking wet. But there was something oddly adorable about him as he stood alone in the spotlight reading his lines.