Log: Jennie and her father

[x-roulette.livejournal.com]

Jennie meets her Dad for a previously agreed upon lunch date and learns a thing or two about family.



The restaurant was a nice little upscale bistro in Manhattan. Jennie took a breath and steeled herself before going inside. She's made an effort today, wearing a nice dress and sandals, but the maitre d' still quirked an eyebrow at her. I guess it doesn't matter how I dress up, I'll still be the punk girl from Vegas, she thought to herself. The Maitre d' escorted her to a table near the window, where a man in a nice suit was waiting for her.

"Ah, Jennifer!" her father smiled in greeting, and rose to clasp her hand. He nodded towards the maitre d, and guided Jennie towards her chair. "Or, you prefer Jennie, right? Have a seat."

She'd agreed to this lunch a couple of weeks ago, when she'd been showing her father around. But what with everything that had been going on, she would have completely forgotten had it not been for Rahne.

"I'm sorry if I'm late," Jennie said hurriedly.

"No, no," Ari waved a hand dismissively. "I've only been here a few minutes myself." The waiter appeared over his right shoulder. "Would you care for something to drink?"

"Just water," Jennie said quietly. This place was expensive.

Ari nodded, recognizing the look on her face. She is so like her mother. "Water for her, and coffee and water for me." The waiter nodded and withdrew. A small, awkward silence followed.

"So..." he began, "How have you been?"

Jennie couldn't keep from laughing cynically. "Ha. Oh, fine. Been fine."

Ari frowned, and placed his chin on his hands. "That well?"

Jennie wondered if she should tell him. Maybe if he hears everything, he'll decide that this relationship nonsense wouldn't be worth his time. Well, an edited version wouldn't hurt.

Holding up one hand, she began to tick things off on fingers with blue nailpolish. "Well, there was the giant earthquake in San Diego, and being who we are and what we can do," she looked at her father for confirmation, and on his nod she continued, "all the staff and most of the students have been volunteering down there, and burning themselves out so I've been watching over them in our medlab when they come home." Not to mention the kid who caused the thing is down there as well. "One of my favorite teachers is really sick, so I've been feeding his bird for him, one of my friends has decided to tour the country with his band and has left the school. And on top of that, my best friend started having some, ah, problems." Jennie sighed and rubbed her hands together, "And I wasn't there when he needed me, so he's left. Probably gone home to Australia, and he hasn't given me a way to get a hold of him." Not to mention I walked in on my worst nightmare yesterday. Forge had tried his best, but she was still in a thoroughly foul mood for the rest of the night.

Ari blinked, and then looked up as the waiter delivered their drinks. "Thank you, yes. Could you give us a minute? I don't think we're ready to order." Ari turned back to his daughter. "So it's been a very bad couple of weeks," he said kindly.

Jennie held her thumb and forefinger up slightly apart. "Just a smidge," she said wryly.

Ari chuckled. "You are very much like your mother, you know. Her gestures and her speech, I see them in you."

She slumped slightly in her chair. "Ah. Yeah. Thanks."

Her father sighed, knowing he'd hit a nerve. Jennie had studiously avoided any mention of her mother on the tour. He decided that they needed to clear the air. "Jennie, did your mother ever tell you about me?"

Jennie shook her head and studied the menu. "No, she never did." 30 bucks for pasta? "I mean, I'd ask and she's always say 'later, later, when you're older,' stuff like that. And then she and I didn't talk for a while, so I never brought it up when we were trying to fix things."

Ari suddenly looked tired. "Your mother and I met at one of her shows, Jennie. You know how she was a dancer, a very good dancer, right?"

Jennie bit her lip and nodded. Her middle name was a permanent reminder of that. Her mother had wanted to share something that had meant a lot to her with her daughter, too bad the end result was a humiliating middle name.

"I was married at the time, Jennie. I married young, and had a son, your older brother Dorian, and things weren't working out," he sighed, "Then I met your mother, who was so alive and vibrant, and," he shrugged, "Greek." Encouraged by Jennie's slight smile, he continued. "I was separated, so I felt that I could carry on a relationship with your mother with no problems. But, there were problems."

Jennie put down her menu, suddenly very interested in spite of herself.

"Your mother was, for lack of a better word, a partier. She had habits that were not healthy for her." Across from him, Jennie nodded, mouth in an angry line. "I gather she continued these habits after your birth. Like I was saying, your mother had a wild streak that my family did not approve of. They were happy with the fact that she was Greek, but not of her wildness." Ari sighed. "Her habits were getting worse, and my family wished for me to break it off. I gave her an ultimatum, and when she refused, I bowed under my family's pressure, and ended it. I'm not proud of it, Jennie, and I regret I hurt her so terribly."

Jennie sat back in her chair and pushed her menu away. "Makes sense," she said softly. "Mom could never quit. Not until last year. I never understood it. Like, I wasn't important enough for her to give it up." She had forgiven her mother, but the years of hurt were still there.

"Exactly. It seems Jennie, that we have both come in second, in regards to your mother."

"Yeah," she said quietly. Jennie stared out the window, and willed herself not to cry. That was it? The grand story of her parentage was not some tale of star-crossed lovers, but of a woman whose partying was more important than her boyfriend. And she the accident as a result.

"Jennie," her father said after a moment. "I regret the hurt I caused your mother, but I do not regret the relationship I had with her. I regret that I did not get to be there for you when you were growing up, but I do not regret that you have sought me out." He smiled at her encouragingly. "I would like very much, if I could know you better."

Jennie swallowed the lump in the back of her throat. For some reason she was thinking back to the fight with Marius. 'At least mine cared enough to acknowledge my existence,' Ha, shows what you know. She gave her father a tiny smile. "Okay," Jennie said softly.

Her father smiled, and then leaned back in his chair. "I wonder, then, if you would feel up to accompanying me somewhere for a few weeks?"

Jennie raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"We have a house in Italy, the family does, which my wife and our younger children use in the summer time. I have discussed this with Grace, my wife, your stepmother, and she's agreed that you should come and stay with us. Possibly get to know your siblings. I know your sister is dying to meet you."

Jennie took a drink of her water. "Wow, that must have been an awkward conversation. 'Hey kids, you got a sister that even I didn't know about until last week,'" she said wryly.

Ari chuckled. "Something like that. It's not much, I can't make up for not being there for you when you were a child, but I would hope that I can be there for you now. Especially since you've had such a bad time of it, lately."

Jennie ran a finger over the rim of her waterglass. I've always wondered where I got that need to take care of people. Looking up at her father, she smiled. "Sure. Why not?"

Ari gave her a genuine smile. "Excellent." He turned to where the waiter had been watching them. "I think we are ready to order now."