In My Father's Eyes by Kat McCarthy

shop.
    For the remainder of the evening she concentrated on creating the Thanksgiving display, only pausing to assist Mathew and Roland when the store filled with customers. By closing time she finished the exhibit. Stepping back, Emily admired her handiwork as Mathew showed the last straggling customer to the door and snapped the security lock into place.
    “Harold’s not back,” Emily asked him, looking around.
    “No.” Mathew informed, “He phoned to say he would probably go straight home after his appointment.”
    “Oh,” Emily moaned, disappointed. She’d been looking forward to showing him her work and was growing curious about what had taken him away from the store all evening.
    After straightening the shop, she, Mathew and Roland let themselves out the back. The rain had paused leaving the alley and parking wet and oily. Waving good-bye, Emily walked across the lot to the bus stop.
    At this hour, the bus stop was meagerly attended with only a couple of other commuters waiting to make their way home and get out of the chilly, wet October evening. Setting her purse on the bench, Emily leaned back on the plastic enclosure. Lost in thought, she didn’t notice the man looking at her until he stood up and walked over, his boots coming into her sight first.
    When she looked up the man seemed vaguely familiar to her but she couldn’t place him. “It is you,” he said. “I thought that was you when you walked up. Wow! You look so different in…you know…real clothes.”
    Emily immediately realized where she’d met the man before. Glancing around at the old lady on the other end of the bench, she knew she couldn’t expect any help there.
    “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Emily said, standing up and pushing past the bigger man’s shoulder.
    “Sure, you do, sweetie…” the man grabbed her arm preventing her from leaving. “Charm…right? That was your name. Yeah. Yeah. I remember you.” Emily tried to shrug the man’s hand off her arm, but he held on tight.
    The rain that had held off renewed with vigor clattering like stones landing on the plastic roof of the bus stop. Emily turned on the man, her eyes gone wild, face flushed and burning.
    “Let go of me!” She shouted at the top of her lungs, stepping into the man, her chin coming within an inch of his stubbly cheek.
    The man, stunned, dropped her arm.
    “What’s the matter with you?” He shouted at her back as Emily turned and ran away into the rain.
    Immediately she was soaked. She didn’t have a raincoat and no way was she going back to the bus stop with that man still there, still cursing at her, the sound of his voice receding as she kept running, her purse bouncing at her waist.
    Stupid! She angrily thought.
    Tears mingled with the rain on her cheeks.
    Mortified and embarrassed at being recognized she ran. What had ever made her take that job? It had been a mistake. The money wasn’t worth the humiliation, the way she felt after spending the night letting those men ogle her, lust after her. She’d thought at the time it didn’t matter. It wasn’t as if she was a prostitute. It was just dancing. But it wasn’t, she knew. It was more than that.
    She could feel it, night after night, a part of her eroding, becoming soiled and degraded as she sold herself for their lust. And then, her father. Her father! She’d thought it couldn’t get any worse. Then he came in. He looked older than she remembered even with the dim light in the club erasing the lines on his face. She’d run, then, too. Before he spotted her.
    It had been so long since she’d seen him, she wasn’t sure he’d even recognize her if he saw her. Not taking the chance, she’d run into the back, grabbed her clothes and purse and been out the back door in minutes. She hadn’t stopped, pausing only to pull on her jeans and boots, struggling into her jacket before taking off in earnest.
    How could he? The father she remembered, the one before the accident,