“Oh, sweet girl, you’re finally here,” she says, holding me away from her body and putting her hands to my face. “You look so much like your great grandma Ellie. She was a beauty and you have your daddy’s eyes and hair.” Pulling me back into her chest, I want to cry for the little girl who missed out on this.
“Thank you,” I say, trying to control the tears I feel coming.
“Oh, honey, you don’t have to thank me. That is a gift given by God and good genes. Lord, I’m just so happy that you’re here and I can see for myself how beautiful you are. Your daddy showed us all pictures from his cell phone but that’s not the same. He is very proud of you.” That does it. I cry like a baby. I don’t think I’ve ever cried so much in my life. The whole situation is surreal. I feel both lucky and scared, wondering if I am going to disappoint them.
“Okay, okay,” Dad says, cutting in. “Enough of the sad stuff. Let’s introduce you to everyone, kiddo.”
Meeting all of my family is a little terrifying. My dad’s brother, Uncle Joe, is a little bit taller than my dad, but has the same body type. You can tell he takes care of himself like my dad does. They both have bulky muscles. My uncle’s dark hair is starting to gray and he looks like he could model for a cool biker magazine with his goatee and tattoos. He brought my cousins too. His twin sons are the complete opposite of each other.
Chris and Nick are twenty-five years old. Chris looks like a surfer with dirty blond hair and a golden tan. Nick looks like a rock star with dark brown hair and light skin covered with tattoos. My dad’s cousin, Maddy, her husband, Mark, and their two-year-old daughter, Alyssa, are also here. They even have a few other family friends over to meet me.
Breakfast is delicious and I am really enjoying getting to know everyone. They all seem genuinely nice. We talk about what I plan on doing after getting settled. I explain about having a degree in business management and that I’m planning on helping my dad at the club. That’s when the vibe changes and all hell breaks loose.
“You’re what?” Uncle Joe asks, yelling so loud his face turns red.
“Um, I’m going to help my dad?” I say, my answer sounding like a question. I look around, wondering what I missed and why he’s so upset.
“Watch it, Joe,” my dad growls.
“No niece of mine is going to work at the strip club…that we own together, I might add.”
“Strip club?” I ask in complete shock.
“She is not going to be working in the club. She’s going to be doing the books and managing the office. She won’t be there during club hours and will never be in the front of the house.”
“I don’t care if she’s working in the front or in the fucking alley, she’s not working there.”
“Last time I checked, she is my daughter and I own half that club. You have no say in what she does or doesn’t do. I want her to work for me, and like I said before, she will never see the front of the fucking club.”
“Do you want to work there?” my uncle asks me. I’m put on the spot and I really don’t want to answer him.
“Um…I…ugh.” I take a deep breath before trying to respond. “I didn’t know that it was that kind of club,” I say in a whisper. Not that I had anything against strip clubs. I mean, to each their own, right?
“Okay, Joe,” Grandma cuts in. “If November wants to work there, that’s her choice. And, Mike, if she doesn’t want to work there after finding out what kind of club it is, that’s also her choice. You know I don’t love that club but I do love you both and I supported you in your decision to open it. But, as for November, it will be her choice and her choice alone if she wants to help you out on the business side of the club. I’m not happy about the look on her face right now and I’m telling you both that you will let her make her own decision.”
After Grandma says her peace, everything goes back to normal but I can still feel the tension between my dad and uncle. I want to work with my dad but I also don’t want to cause a problem between him and his brother.
I can’t wrap my mind around the fact that my dad owns a strip club. When I imagine a strip club owner, I picture an evil, fat, old guy with beady eyes, tacky suits and a bad comb over. Not someone like my dad. He’s a kind, handsome, put-together, forty-five-year-old man.
After pondering this for a few minutes, I realize that I am proud. Knowing my dad and the kind of man he is, I can’t help but think of the women who work for him and how lucky they are. In the stripper industry, I’m sure respect is hard to come by. But one thing I know for sure, he respects the women who work for him. So with these thoughts floating in my head, I turn and smile at my dad. He smiles back even bigger.