Remember My Name

A/N: So this is the end of Remember My Name, and I want you all to know that I love the reviews that I have received on this story. It's special to me because it was kinda my "come back." And I'm so glad that you all . . . I almost just typed "remembered my name," but then I realized just how cheesey that really is. Anyway - I'm glad you got on board, and I appreciate all of you who have taken the time to encourage me along the way.

I want to say a special "thank you" to Vera Roberts - a lot of times, I leave her out of my thanks because I figure she knows how much her brainstorming and input means to me, but I think it needs to be said in this instance, for sure. She is the first person who looked at the outline for this story, and she is the one who encouraged me all along the way. Thanks so much!

Enjoy!

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Dear Lily,

I know that it's been a very long time since we've had any contact, and I know that it's my fault. I should have written to you, at the very least, long before now. I suppose it's a father's instinct to recoil when he finds out his daughter has done something he deems shameful, though I'm not sure that's a viable excuse for completely cutting you out of my life.

I can't offer you excuses, because nothing excuses a father turning on his daughter when she needs him the most. I would like to offer an explanation, for whatever it's worth this late in the game.

When your mother told me that she was pregnant with you, I was terrified. I thought that I would surely be the worst father in the world - that I wouldn't be able to love you enough. Not because we didn't want you, but because I loved your mother with every fiber of being. I really didn't think that I would have room for anyone else in my heart.

But I was wrong - the heart is a crazy thing, Lily. When I held you in my arms for the first time, I realized that it was only expanded. I felt the same thing with your brother, and then with your sister. I loved my work. I loved Pacino movies. I loved SportsCenter. But it was nothing like the love I had for my family.

The trouble with love is that it opens you up, it makes you vulnerable, and renders you helpless. You do everything you can to protect those people that mean the world to you, and then one day you find out that it's just not enough. It will never be enough. You just can't be everywhere all of the time, doing everything that you wish you could be doing.

Your mother told me, the day before she died, that you had no idea how she had funded your trip out West. At the moment, though, it didn't matter. I was angry with you for taking advantage of her, and I was angry at her for making such a stupid decision. She was dead. She wasn't coming back.

When I found out about your new career, my heart broke. I imagine it's never easy for a father to imagine his daughter doing all sorts of filthy things with a plethora of strange men - at least for father's who give a damn - but there was more to it than that. I worried about you, Lily, but I knew that you were strong. Over the years, as I've thought over the girl I knew growing up, I've come to terms with the fact that you can clearly take care of yourself - you can make your own decisions. You don't need your daddy for that anymore.

Do you remember when you played Janet in tenth grade? I was supposed to be in India, picking up a rare piece that weekend. I let another museum take the piece because I couldn't bear not to see my baby headline 'The Rocky Horror Show.' You were unbelievably amazing.

In eighth grade, you did Annie. The director told you that you were too old, and I offered to buy you ice cream to take away the sting of rejection. You said you'd rather have a ride back to the theater the next day to prove him wrong. I remember hearing you and your mother, giggling in the bathroom, dying your hair red so you could get that part that you'd dreamed of since you were eight.

I remember sitting in the middle of the theater when you were Desdemona in Othello. I also remember your mother mocking me for the rest of the night because I couldn't stop crying. Was it my fault that you were so believable? That you embodied the character so fully that I might have, maybe, momentarily forgot that your death scene wasn't real.

I can't even begin to tell you how I felt when I saw you on that stage, when I watched you do what you loved to do. Your mother and I both knew that you were destined for greatness, and we were so happy to be able to be a part of that. Even when we missed out on opportunities to take you to auditions or pay for your singing lessons - we never felt like we were sacrificing anything. Our only dream was to see our children succeed.

That was the hardest part of the career path that you chose for yourself. I couldn't be supportive of it. Not because I didn't approve (though I have to admit that I didn't), but because a father can't exactly run down to his local adult store and pick up the latest copy of his little girl's work. Though I gave you the name when you were just a toddler, I couldn't call you my little Tiger Lily anymore. And it broke my heart not to be able to pick up the phone and say "you did brilliant work in that film, kiddo."

It wasn't right - cutting you out of my life when I felt you had cut me out of yours. What's done is done, and I can't take that back. I can apologize for waiting so long to come clean. Whether our relationship can be mended or not, I'm not sure. That ball is in your court now. But let me assure you of one thing:

Through all of the anger, pain, dissapointment, and confusion, I have always loved you. No matter how you receive this letter, and whether or not we ever speak again, that one thing will never change. You will always be my precious little girl, and I will always love you.

Still believing in you,

Dad

P.S. I am forwarding you the letter that spurned me to get over my own pride and send you this message. Thank him for pointing a hardened old man in the right direction for me.

When she had seen her father's name in her e-mail Inbox, Lily had nearly deleted the message without reading it. It had been nearly six years since she had heard from him, but she couldn't bring herself to turn away from whatever it was he had to say. Now, a hundred readings later, she still couldn't keep the tears from her eyes.

She knew him well enough to know how much it had taken him to turn a computer on, let alone type a letter that long. And though he had always been readily available as a father, Lily knew that he wasn't a man who said "I was wrong." He was reaching out to her, and she wasn't sure how she wanted to react.

What threw her into even more upheaval was the attached letter, the one that had affected her father so deeply that he had written her the long apology letter. It was unexpected, to say the least, and it only served to bring more tears.

Dr. Mr. Wright,

You don't know me, and I hope that you can forgive the fact that I had a Private Investigator attain your address for me. But I know your daughter, and I know that you haven't really been in touch with her for quite some time.

I just thought you might like to know that your little girl isn't a porn star anymore. She retired from adult filmmaking nearly two years ago - walked away at the peak of her fame in favor of a string of bit parts in some bigger, mainstream films. I just found out that she's been nominated for an Independent Spirit Award for a supporting role in a small-budget, critically acclaimed indie film that she made last year.

Maybe you already know that. I don't know if you're one of those fathers who regrets his decision to cut his daughter out of his life, but follows her career from afar. I don't know if you have a trophy room with all of her headlines and the reviews that appear in Variety. Hell, for all I know, you've got her magazine covers framed in glass and I'm telling you a bunch of shit you knew long before I did.

But here's something you probably don't know - your daughter changed my life. When I met her, I was sure she would just be another porn star. What I expected, and the reality I found, couldn't have been more opposite. At the time, of course, I didn't know that.

I'm sorry for rambling - I'm sure you're a very busy man. I just thought you might want to know that your daughter is fiercely independent, wickedly intelligent, and painfully beautiful. Though her physical beauty is breath taking, it is her heart that shines through to the people around her, illuminating things that they never really knew, or wanted to acknowledge, about themselves. She drifted from the intended path, but she never lost site of the life she had dreamt of with you and your wife.

I wasn't ready to be the man that she needed me to be, Mr. Wright, and I fear that I may have lost one of the best things that has ever happened to me because of it. My purpose in sending this message is to ask you to, please, don't follow my lead. Don't miss out on being the father that she still want you to be.

Thank you for your time,

Randy Orton

The Randy that had left her in her living room two years earlier would have never written that letter. The Randy that she had known probably walked out the door and found himself another beautiful woman to warm his bed. But that wasn't the Randy who had written to her father. Maybe he really had changed.

She didn't know how long she had been sitting there when the doorbell rang. It was nearly eleven o'clock and the hairstylist that her friend had hired to do her hair for the Spirit Awards would be there soon. She had to tear herself away from the screen. She could decide what kind of relationship she wanted to have with her father later.

She moved slowly down the stairs, trying to shake the feelings of nausea that were rising in her stomach. It just didn't make sense. Her father hadn't spoken to her in years. Neither had Randy. Part of her wanted to believe that they were just hitching themselves to her rising star, but she knew them both well enough to know that it wasn't true. Maybe they really did love her.

With her wet hair piled atop her head, and a terry cloth robe wrapped around her body, Lily checked the peep hole on the front door and then opened it with a wide smile. "What is this?" she asked happily.

The delivery man lowered the enormous bouquet of red roses and looked at the woman before him. "Wow," he breathed. "You look really different in real life," he gasped. She raised a questioning eyebrow and made no attempt to open the door any further. "Oh," he caught himself, "You're still beautiful, Ms. Wright," he blushed.

Opening the door wider, she nodded to the entry table. "You can set them there," she directed. As she signed for the delivery, she felt her spirits lifting. It was amazing what a few little flowers could do. "So I've got a secret admirer?"

He just smiled and checked the signature with a shrug. "There's a card," he said, unsure of whether or not the young starlet was teasing. Reaching into the drawer of the table, she withdrew a bill and pressed it into his hand. After glancing down, his lips curled into a bright smile. "Thank you, Ms. Wright."

She winked as she shut the door and turned to the flowers at her side. Before today, she would have assumed that she knew who they were from, but now she wasn't sure. After reading the card, she let a giggle escape her lips while she fished the cell phone out of the pocket of her robe.

"Hey you," the answer came, caressing her ears like a song.

"You sent me flowers," she laughed. "And they're beautiful. Thank you."

He cleared his throat and she could hear him moving around his hotel room. "You read the card yet?"

Holding the small enclosure card between her fingers, she read it allowed. "I hope you know I'd be there if I could, but since I can't be, let this be a reminder that I am so proud of you. All my love - Dave." She reached out and rubbed one of the soft petals gingerly. "I wish you were here," she whispered.

Dave licked his lips and pictured his girlfriend's flawless face. Though they had stayed in touch after her break-up with Randy, the couple had only been dating for five months. He had thought about making a move sooner, but quickly decided against his when his daughters met her and fell instantly in love with the woman.

It had always been his goal to meet someone that even his daughters could love, but as a father, he couldn't bring himself to risk them idolizing Lily too much. He didn't want to risk the idea of his girls ending up in the same place this woman was. When he had confessed it to Lily, she had praised his decision, assuring him that he wasn't being judgemental - he was just being a responsible father.

When he was sure that she was done with the porn industry for good, he had asked her to dinner, and they had been inseparable ever since. As inseparable as two travelling entertainers could be.

"I wish I was, too. But I'll be there in spirit," he promised, laughing when she did. "Too cheesey?"

Shaking her head, Lily fought the tear that was threatening to fall. When she was younger, she had believed that her life would be perfect if the whole world knew her name. As cliche as it seemed, though, she realized all that she really needed was one person. One who thought she was enough. And she had found him.

They chatted for a few more minutes before another knock sounded at the door. Opening it, she motioned for the stylist to head up the stairs. "I've gotta go get ready," she told him reluctantly. "Hey, Dave, can you do me a favor?"

"Anything."

"Can you tell Randy that my dad and I say 'thanks.'"

The curiosity in his voice was evident. "What's that about?"

But Lily just shook her head. Until she knew what she wanted to do about her father, she wasn't willing to let anyone else in on the secret. "I'll tell you about it later."

"Alright," Dave conceded, a bit nervous about the name of her ex-boyfriend rolling off his girlfriend's lips. "If you'll do me a favor." She mumbled affirmation as she climbed the stairs. ""Don't forget my name when you give your acceptance speech."

Smiling brightly, she stepped into her bedroom and released her hair from the ponytail. "Deal."