The Cop’s Daughter, Vol 4: The Birthday Note
September 3, 2009 in Cops and Daughters
Monday was my birthday, and it made me think about my 18th birthday.
That day, my father had to work and he left me a note to tell me Happy Birthday and that we’d go to dinner that night.
So I was turning 18, and my father always did nice things on landmark birthdays. One year, I got this beautiful diamond and gold necklace; it was a circle with diamonds in it and a chain going from the sides of the circle. I didn’t know the political implications, then.
But on my 18th birthday, I came home (from I think school) and walked in to see my father’s note.
“Happy birthday, Theda! I love you and I will take you to dinner. This is your 18th and is special.” Or something like that. I beamed….and then I noticed lines and writing showing through from the other side of the page. I was perplexed, and I turned it over.
It was a copy of one of my father’s police reports. Was this the only extra paper he had? My father was never able to draw that line, and he just didn’t really think about that line very much. It was his reality and, to some degree, he assumed it was reality. Of course, I began to read the police report. As I was reading, I let out a big, exasperated sigh.
It was not just any police report, but one describing in great deal how he had arrested a prostitute. It contained descriptions of what he said to her, what she said to him, and various other details I never wanted to know….let alone on my birthday. Later, when he got home, I didn’t want to say anything. He would have felt horribly about it and it would just create anxiety between us.
I never told him.