Dad and daughter bond unexpectedly over a movie

The guy in the Killhammer tee shirt who’d left his business card did not return. Juliet felt relieved. She wasn’t sure how she felt about him just yet. Plus, she’d found herself running late that afternoon. She hadn’t had time to put in her contacts or do anything with her hair, so she wore her horn-rimmed glasses and had her hair up in a messy ponytail.

Mostly, she thought about how excited she was to spend the evening with her dad, watching a horror movie. Not just any horror movie, but Douglas Pierce’s _Seventh Sacrifice._ It was supposed to be a buried treasure, an underseen and transgressive classic. Her dad had talked it up on many an occasion, but she’d kept herself uninformed and spoiler-free. Neither of them had seen it before. She wanted to be as surprised as possible.

The evening passed slowly, as Thursdays often did. Midnight Dreams hadn’t done brisk business since the turn of the century, but Thursdays were the slowest nights of all. She killed time by putting some of the less intense horror classics on the store TV. One of the advantages of working for a guy like Judd: he didn’t care what employees played during their working hours. Midnight Dreams didn’t turn on being a family-friendly establishment.

With no one in the store, she took a chance and closed up fifteen minutes early. She shut off the lights, barred the front door, and let herself out the employee entrance. With a sigh of contentment, she texted her dad as she got in the car.

[on my way]

As she pulled out of the parking lot and headed out to her dad’s place, she felt an unusual thrill in her heart. She was happy to be going to see him – as happy, perhaps, as she might be at going out on a date. Maybe even a little happier.

She pondered that mystery on the dark and empty road to her dad’s place, her thoughts dancing around what she was truly feeling, but still not ready to label it: shadowy fantasies without form or name, mysterious but exciting all the same.

***

Juliet’s mom had gotten the house in the divorce, and her dad had fallen on tough times not long thereafter. His depression and preoccupation with putting his life back together had hurt some of his contract work, and he’d never quite recovered in the years since.

While her mother Maria thrived with a new husband in the house Juliet had grown up in, her father Ryan lived in an RV on the south end of town.

In fairness, it looked a lot better than it sounded. The RV, while not a top-end luxury model, was roomy and comfortable. He had a kitchen, a small dining table, and enough room for a modest library. He’d parked it on a remote spot just upland from Connor Beach – a small piece of real estate owned by a friend who wasn’t using it. Ryan lived rent-free while he worked at putting his career back on track.

Juliet knew her dad was ashamed of his living conditions. She didn’t mind at all. She loved the drive out to Connor Beach: the twisting road that wound between the ghostly trees, the isolated homes with their lonely lights in the distance. She especially loved driving down the last stretch to where his RV lay parked between two banks of trees. It was just close enough to the beach that you could hear the murmur of the waves, but not so close that they’d ever be bothered by passers-by.

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