The Captain's daughter

Lucy, you are getting out of control." My dad shouted at me as he helped me off the floor of some sticky, smelly bar floor. I swayed as I stood up; everything was moving.

"You know I've been dealing with shit, dad," I said back in anger, feeling shaking as I leaned against a table.

"I know, sweetie, but it's been six months of blackouts and me having to come to pick you up from whatever bar or place you've passed out in." He lets out a pissed breath because he's constantly finding me on the ground, in a bar, outside a bar, or laying face down on someone's lawn. I don't care.

"I think you should come with me on my next trip out on my boat?" He looked at me with his fatherly eyes, but I could see his disappointment in me, turning my life into a shit pile of shit.

"Yuk...being around stinky fish and drunk ass men on a boat or stay here and well pretty much be surrounded by the same thing?"

I laughed at his attempt to offer me a lifeline.

"I'll stay here, thank you." I laughed at him, thinking I'd go with him on a fishing boat. I have been on occasion when he needed an extra hand in a bind. But it's hard work and tiring, and it takes a lot of muscle, and I would much instead not go.

I pushed away from the table and went to walk away, stumbling my way to the door.

"Fuck, Lucy, look at you." My dad shouted at me. I spun around on my heel and grabbed hold of the half wall beside me, nearly tottering over as I lost my balance, feeling like I was on a boat in rough waters.

"What?" I yelled back. People stared, but I didn't care. No one knows the shit I have been through. They can sit there and judge me all they want while thinking what a great life they have.

His face held deep sadness; his eyes swam with tears. "Please! I'm afraid if I leave you, you'll end up dead." I could hear the heartbreak in his words, his plead to get me to listen. He crouched down next to me; his eyes were red-rimmed, his forehead engraved with deep creases from concern and stress. All because of me.

"It hurts, daddy. So bad, like someone is shoving a jagged knife into my heart and sawing away. This heavy Drinking takes my pain away, the agony of losing Jacob." I said in my child-like state of needing my daddy. I needed his help cause I was struggling. But I was scared to feel more pain if I didn't have that drink.

"I am sorry for what happened; I know how much you two were in love. But what you're doing is only helping temporarily. Drinking won't bring him back. Just come out for a few weeks and see if you feel any better. If it's terrible, then I'll drop you back off." It sounded so simple, but the aches and the pain in my heart didn't care; they didn't change intensity. Or make me forget him.

"What if the guys tease me because I'm there, making fun of some feeble girl that can't keep up?" I pouted my lip out.

"Oh, they will get a beating if they bug you, sweetie. The crew is pretty good. They can get a little rowdy. Just let me know, and I'll deal with them if they get out of hand." He touched my arm, gently squeezing. I glanced into my dad's deep-set eyes; they were brown and dark like mine. We have the same eyes and smile.

I ran my hand through his salt and pepper hair, more salt than pepper. He's pretty young, looking for being 47, but the only thing that makes him look aged is his hair color.

My dad tilted my chin up; my mascara-ridden tears slid down my face. I couldn't take the pain in his eyes. So I gave in to his invitation.

"I will be putting them in their place if they jerk me around or give me any heck."

"I know you will." He said as he brushed my hair out of my face.

"So that's a yes?" He said with hopefulness in his deep rich voice.

"I guess. It's not like I've been able to keep a job." I said, feeling slightly embarrassed by my behavior as of late.

"I expect you to do your part. This isn't just a free ride. Learn something, work hard, and maybe you'll begin to let go of the pain and maybe heal."

"How...how do I let go of him. He was my everything." My throat tightened as I got worked up again. More tears stung my eyes.

"Just one day at a time and keep moving forward." He said it as if that task was so simple.

"It's easier said than done, Dad," I whimpered.

"I'm not saying it's going to be easy." He spoke with love and support. I couldn't take seeing his sad eyes.

"I'll go." I hope this isn't going to make things worse, being out in the water, away from the one source of temporary pain relief. Alcohol.

"Thank you. I wish your mom were here."

"Why to see me so destructive and lost?" I whispered.

"No, to see what a beautiful woman you've become." He said genuinely.

I wiped at the tears that ran down my face. I grabbed the chair that I landed beside and pulled myself up.

"We leave in a week. Take this time to get your shit together."

"Yeah...yeah!" I said insipidly.

"Do you need a ride?" He offered.

"Nah, the fresh air will be good for me. I feel like I'm on a damn boat in a storm." My stomach rolled with uneasiness and sickness.

"Hahaha, damn kid. Wait till you're on the real thing." He chuckled as he walked away.

"Nope...oh shit!" I rushed outside, feeling the acid evacuating from my stomach and up my throat like a firing inferno; I leaned over the railing tossing my cookies.

"What the fück!