Who: Jesse and Mary James, and maybe Laura What: Cosmopolitan. That is all. aka, I got bored. Also! Admire new!Mary! When: Sunday afternoon Where: The James house Warnings: None!
"Daddy?"
"Mara'zee?"
"Did your friend John look like Jack Sparrow?"
Jesse actually stopped at that, turning away from the files on his computer screen to raise an eyebrow at his daughter. Whatever she meant, the conversation seemed like it would be more interesting than reading over briefs on his newest client. The exhibit his company was working was boring in comparison. What did he really care about Mayan pottery anyway? Instead, Jesse swiveled around in his chair and looked at Mary. She'd exchanged her homework for a thick, very pink magazine.
He paused for a moment to prepare himself for whatever direction the conversation one might take. One never knew when talking to a 'tween. "I don' reckon I'm familiar with this Jack Sparrow fella'. And I've known a lotta John's in my day."
"I meant John Dillinger, you said he was your friend," Mary explained. "Frank said there was a movie about him this summer with Jack Sparrow, so I was wondering if he really looked like him, 'cause that'd mean he was really cute."
"He was… handsome," Jesse allowed after he'd recovered from the shock of his daughter saying that his former best friend was 'cute'. The young peoples' lingo of the day didn't really adequately describe the look of the 1930s gentleman. "Still don' know who this Jack is."
Mary huffed a sigh. "Remember when I started fencing? The movie! Pirates of the Caribbean? Don't you remember, you and Mom said I could start fencing after that? Jack Sparrow's from it. He's the pirate."
"There were a lot of pirates…" But a vague mental image was coming to Jesse, which he was thankful for. Mary was giving him the 'uncool dad' look. "I remember. You're right, he's the one in the picture about John."
"It's called a movie, Daddy, not a 'picture'," she corrected. "So did John look like him?"
"Sorta, I reckon. They got it most right. Why?"
"Just wondering. He's in my magazine."
"He's in your Highlights?"
"Daddy, I am not reading Highlights. That's for kids Frank's age," she said indignantly.
Jesse didn't have the heart to tell her that Frank had been reading National Geographics for at least the last year and a half. "What're you readin' there, baby girl?"
"Cosmo," Mary answered, her voice changing. She was obviously trying to sound grown up. "It's what Mom reads."
What Mom read? Jesse peaked over at the pink magazine suspiciously. "What's 'at?"
"It's for girls. That's why Jack Sparrow's in it, 'cept he's dressed up like your friend, see? Look." Mary turned the magazine around so that Jesse was faced with the same image from the posters he'd seen on the sides of busses and subway stations earlier that summer. The actor certainly looked the part—the grey overcoat, leather gloves, and Thompson machine gun in his hand all suited the public image of Dillinger, but it all simply made Jesse frown. It wasn't his friend he saw, just someone playing dress up, much like Mary and Frank did every Halloween. "He's cute. Sorry, handsome," the little girl teased, grinning at her father.
"Uh huh." Jesse's voice was gruff, various lectures that he knew he needed to be giving about how falling in love with men like him was not appropriate ran through his mind even though he knew that he couldn't actually give any of them without coming off as the world's biggest hypocrite. He supposed Laura providing the same lecture wouldn't be any better. Look who she was married to.
He turned the magazine around and handed it back to Mary, again catching a glimpse of that bright pink cover and the words emblazoned on it in various equally annoying neon colors. "Five ways to pleasure your man-- Mary, what on God's earth are you readin'?"
Mary had the good sense to look just as scandalized as Jesse did. She gulped audibly and dropped the magazine guiltily. It was painfully obvious that she knew she wasn't supposed to be reading it. "It's Mom's!" she insisted. "I just like the pictures!"
Scooping the magazine up off the ground, Jesse flipped through it quickly and found his eyes widening with every turn of the page. "Mary Zerelda James—" and that was all he could get out before his words simply turned to sputters at the images of half naked men his daughter had just been looking at. And this was in his house? Lord have mercy…
Mary, having seemingly forgotten about the homework scattered around the floor of Jesse's study, reached up for the magazine. "Daddy!"
"You're outta your mind if you think you're gettin' this back 'fore you're married." Jesse stood up holding the magazine between two fingers like it was poisoned. Scowling he muttered, "I think I need t'go have a talk with your mother…"