Dear Papa,

Would it be wrong of me to compare Nikolas to a mother hen? The man is hovering, every day. I know he worries for me but honestly, it’s the most frustrating of things. I’m a grown woman, I don’t need him hovering. Then again, this trip was an excellent idea, I need to give him some credit for that. He had everything arranged when I arrived in Los Angeles, including this beautiful suite he’d booked for my visit. I don’t really understand why he worries so much. I pay him to protect me and maybe in a way that’s what he’s doing by bringing me out here.

If I hadn’t spent the past few years living in New York City, I might be impressed by this place. The weather is beautiful and so are the people; and they’re rich Papa, richer than even I was. They’re celebrities and they thrive off drama and status. I guess that’s nothing new for me but it’s hardly New York.

At first, I hated it, being someplace I know so little about. I was surviving in New York, even if it wasn’t sustainable. No one warned me how hard it would be to just stop it all – there are days when I feel like I’m dying, looking for something to take the edge off. The first few days here I mostly slept. I won’t lie, I still found what I needed to get through. I could see that Nikolas was getting discouraged, but I needed the next high. Maybe that’s hard for you to hear too; we’ve been out of touch for so long. I’m not your little girl anymore.

When I’m not doing those things, I can’t shut my brain off. I think about everything that’s happened. I think about Vernon and Sadie. I think about the what ifs and could have beens. I think about goodbyes and the pain they cause. I think about missed opportunities and what a mess I’ve made of my life.

Did you know that Los Angeles means “The Angels”? I’m not an angel Papa; far from it actually; every time I hit the streets looking for that next hit it makes me laugh. Maybe I’m hoping that you will understand, having faced these vices on your own. When mama died you started drinking. I know that you say Elizabeth has helped you to be better, and for that, I will always appreciate her. I am here trying to do it all on my own and I don’t know if I’m strong enough.

Love,

Your Blackfoot Daisy

P.S. I don’t even know how to sign my letters. I don’t know who I am anymore Papa, isn’t that so strange?

Dear Jenny,

You know I don’t write very well, so I’ve asked Elizabeth to print these for me, I hope that’s ok with you. You’re right; it’s not easy for me to hear how you’re hurting yourself since I’ve last seen you. Even if you don’t see it that way, it’s what you’re doing. We lost touch for so long, and while I am glad to have reconnected with you, I wish I could do more to help you.

Nikolas was right to take you away from New York. Sometimes a change of scenery is what we need to start to figure things out. I don’t know much about Los Angeles, but Elizabeth tells me that it’s a beautiful place and has some famous beaches. She hasn't been either but she reads a lot in books and magazines and newspapers. Have you been to them yet?

You say at the end of your letter that you don’t know who you are, but I don’t think that’s true at all. You’ve always known who you are Jenny, since the day you were born. You’re stubborn and thick headed and strong-willed. You know what you want, and you’ve never let anyone stop you from getting it, not even me. I wasn’t the best father to you when you were younger, but you didn’t let that hold you back.

When you first started going to school, you came home one day with a drawing. You had drawn yourself as a Princess. You told me you were going to grow up to be a Princess and that you would live in a big castle. And you made that happen. I know it wasn’t the best of times for you, but it was a sign to me of your determination. You set your mind to something, and you made it happen.

I don’t know if I’m the best person to give you advice. When your mama died, I didn’t know what to do with myself. I had to keep going for you, but you looked so much like her that I couldn’t bear it. Alcohol numbed the pain. I understand it, sweetheart, I do. But it also ruined me, and you can’t let that happen to you.

Why are you facing this all alone? What happened to that nice fellow you brought here with you? I know you didn’t tell me, but I thought I saw something between the two of you. Was I wrong?

You know you can always come home, Jenny. You don’t have to be alone.

Love,

Your Papa

P.S. Send postcards. Elizabeth wants to see what Los Angeles looks like.

Dear Papa,

Gavin and I went our separate ways after returning from Texas. There was some miscommunication, and then he was injured while working. He’s in love with someone else, and while it wasn’t easy, it was for the best. After Vernon, I swore off love. Hell, I swore off relationships in general. Gavin is better off moving on with someone who can offer him more stability then I can, especially right now. That’s what I keep telling myself at least.

I can’t come home, papa. That small town holds so much pain and misery for me, I can’t see any healing happening there. I appreciate that offer. Maybe one day I can fly you and Elizabeth out to New York to stay with me for a while. We should plan for that, perhaps for the holidays? I don’t know if we ever really had a proper Christmas. Do you remember the one year you tried to put up a tree for me? It was so small, and it was nearly dead, but I was so excited to see the blinking lights and shiny bulbs. We can do a real tree this year, a huge one.

I don’t know how to explain it. I know to you I am Jenny, but I have lived my life for the past few years as someone else. I changed my name, and I made something of myself. I can’t go into details in writing, but I did it on my own; I worked, and I accomplished something. There was no one propping me up, no famous last name to help smooth things over for me. I did that as Madeline, not Jenny. Now that my past and my present have come crashing together, I don’t know who I am.

I went to the beach as you suggested in your last letter. Elizabeth was right; they are lovely. In New York, the beaches aren’t quite so crisp and clean. The water isn’t something you want to swim in. But here, everything is brighter. I was scared at first, I have no idea how to swim and I never really needed to learn. But I found an instructor here, and the past few days they’ve been teaching me what I need to know. I love the salty air and the warm sand between my toes.

Nikolas is pleased because my time spent at the beach wears me out and I haven’t been going out as much at night. I get up earlier because I want to be outside in the sunshine; I think we take it for granted in Texas. I’m doing a little bit of work while here as well, but for the most part, I’m trying to stay focused on myself.

I know what I don’t want. I don’t want to be the weak person that I was when I was married to Vernon. I won’t ever let someone push me around like that again. But I don’t know if I want to be Madeline anymore either; the free spirit is nice for a while but being with Gavin made me want more than that for the first time in a long time. Am I crazy to think about that after what I went through the first time? I'm not saying I want to get married or anything and I certainly don't want to settle down and become some sort of housewife. I don't know if I'm even making any sense. 

I enclosed a number of postcards that I've picked up over the past few days; give Elizabeth my best and thank her for writing your responses. I know it might not seem like much but I've been looking forward to getting your letters.

Love,

Jenny, or Madeline, or whoever I am.

Dear Jenny,

Have you ever stopped to consider why you became Madeline? What were you trying to accomplish? You say you don’t want to be the weak woman you were with Vernon, but I don’t see Jenny as weak. The Jenny I knew was the opposite of weak; she survived what many women would not have survived. She fought back, and she won. Jenny is my Blackfoot Daisy, wild and free. It sounds like Madeline is wild and free too, perhaps too much. My Jenny survived a childhood where her only parent didn’t pay her much attention. I can acknowledge that now, and while I know an apology won’t mean much these days, I do apologize. Maybe if I had been there for you when you were little, you wouldn’t have gone through all the things that you did.

More importantly, I don’t understand why you feel a need to choose between the two. Are you not both Jenny and Madeline? Are they not one in the same? As we age, darling, we change. And that change can be both good and bad. I challenge you to stop trying to choose between two parts of yourself but instead find a way to rectify them. Make the two pieces one whole.

I’m glad to hear you’ve been enjoying the beach. The swimming and the sunshine must be good for your health, and if it means you’re getting on a more regular schedule, then I’m all for it.

I do remember that Christmas tree. I had been able to get some work that year, and I wanted you to have a real Christmas for once. Your face lit up at the sight of it, and I was so proud. I would love to visit with you and Elizabeth practically squealed at the idea of going to New York City. She didn’t want to write that, but I insisted.

I will tell you one more thing, Jenny. After your mama died, I never thought I would love again. I kept to myself, I worked, and I drank. And then Elizabeth came along, and she inserted herself into my life in a way I couldn’t imagine. She wouldn’t take no for an answer, and my demons didn’t scare her away. Instead, she helped me to tackle them, one by one. It doesn’t get easier, baby girl, but it gets manageable. I know you don’t think you need anyone, but don’t close yourself off to love forever. Needing someone else isn’t a weakness. In fact, being able to open up and share your vulnerabilities, that takes strength. 

There is no one I know that is stronger than you. And no matter if you choose to be known as Jenny or Madeline or even some new name, you will also be my daughter. I love you, Jenny.

Love, 

Your Papa

Dear Papa,

Your letters have truly meant the world to me. I’m sorry too, for disappearing as I did. I can’t imagine how you must have worried in those months after I left Texas. I can’t lie and say that you were a wonderful father; we both know that you weren’t. But you’re trying now, and while we can’t erase the pains of the past, we can try to rebuild our relationship moving forward.

I will make the arrangements for Christmas. Or maybe sooner, and then you can come back for Christmas. We’ll see how busy I get; I have a lot of work to catch up on now that I’ve gotten my head on straight again. Well, not entirely, but this trip has been a blessing. I think I'm a pretty decent swimmer now, although I still need to keep practicing. 

Your words struck a chord in me. You are right; I don’t know why I am trying to force myself into an either/or situation. I don’t need to be Madeline OR Jenny; I can be both. You say Jenny was strong, but I don’t know if I can agree with that. A strong woman would never have gotten into that situation, to begin with. A strong woman would have left after the first time she was beaten. I wasn’t strong until it was too late, and it was Sadie that paid the price.

I’m happy that you’ve found someone that makes you happy papa. I don’t know if I will ever be in that position. I'm not going to go looking for it, especially not right now, but I won’t hide from it the way that I have been. Maybe that's why Gavin was in my life; not because he was supposed to be that person but because he was supposed to show me that I wanted someone to be that person. Someone to show me that Vernon was an exception, not a rule. 

My time here in Los Angeles is coming to a close. I have some work to take care of, and then I will be returning to New York. I will keep writing as often as I can, but the letters may come less frequently. Don't worry if you don't hear from me for a while, I promise I won't disappear again. 

You challenged me to take the two parts of myself and make one whole. That isn't going to happen overnight or on one magical vacation. It's something that is going to take time and effort. I'm going to stumble and I'm going to take steps backward, but I found a starting place, and well, that's something, isn't it? Everyone has to start somewhere. 

Love,

Madeline Evans