Stories of the Falsely Accused – The Bubble Party

They moved in when she was just two years old.  He was a single father. His wife had a six-month fight with cancer before she passed on.  In a way, it was a blessing. Their daughter didn’t have to watch her suffer. Still, it it was hard for both father and daughter. The house was small, but it was a great neighborhood with a lot of families, and even a little community park where the kids hung out. It seemed perfect. The first few years were hard. He was lonely, but he did the best he could. Between daycare, work, and school, he was stretched thin. Still, he made it work. 

She had just celebrated her sixth birthday when the new neighbors moved in. They had a daughter the same age, and within a few days, they were inseparable.  No matter what was going on, they were in the thick of it. For him, it gave him a much needed break. Every other weekend, they would take turns sleeping over at each others houses. Girls night, they called it. They would spend most of the night gossiping about things eight-almost-nine year old girls gossip about. They would watch cartoons and then pretend that they weren’t because they “weren’t kids anymore.”  They were so close, they could have been sisters.

It was his week. They had been outside, playing hard. They played house, or some variation of it. There was a unicorn, and a prince, a lot of dirt, and water.  The dirt and water was a by-product of something; mud scones, or other royal fare suitable for a prince. Whatever it was, they both needed baths. Desperately. 

He bought her Mr. Bubble earlier that week. As soon as he said bath his daughter wanted to show her best friend her bubble bath. So, he did what every respectable father would do and let them have a bubble bath party. It saved water, mostly, there was still a lot of it on the floor, and let him wash the mud off their clothes. 

They loved it. he could hear them whooping all the way in the laundry room. He let them have at it for quite awhile, checking in occasionally to make sure the bubbles weren’t out of control. Night fell, and he sent them to bed, dressed in their pj’s to cuddle up with his daughter’s stuffies. He had a proud father moment when his daughter whispered, “Best day ever”.  He beamed as he closed the door.

Two weeks later, he was in jail. Seven months after that, prison. The neighbors didn’t share his proud father moment. When their daughter told them about the bubble bath, and how much fun she had, they assumed the worst. They had bathed together before. That wasn’t the issue. It was the bubble bath, and the father looking in on the girls that got the neighbors upset. Although he was completely innocent, the mother jumped to the worst possible  conclusion. She called the police and reported that her daughter and her friend had been molested.

The police questioned him. He didn’t lie, and told them exactly what happened. Yes, he had them take a bath, and of course he checked in on them; especially when they got too loud and water was going everywhere. Yes, he was in there briefly and even played along with some of their antics. 

That was enough. The officer assumed the worst, and made his report. The arrest came soon after. The Department of Human Services took the daughter and the Department of Corrections took the father.  The public defender said to take the deal; otherwise it was life.

He had no choice. This was his punishment for trying to be a good father. He didn’t even get to say goodbye. Maybe one day, she’ll try to find him again. Maybe.