Chapter 18 #2
Plus, next Saturday night, I’ll have my first band.
It’s a local group of musicians in their forties who play a mixture of classic rock from the eighties and nineties country.
When I spoke to their lead singer, he was thrilled with the prospect of playing at The Tipsy Lizard, stating he was turned down at playing at The Tall One across town, since they only wanted today’s music for the younger crowd.
They don’t know their ass from a hole in the ground, because what this band is offering is exactly what brings patrons out.
Not to mention my sister is coming over for the weekend, and I have the perfect project for her to assist me with.
Not only do I need to make posts on social media for the band next Saturday, but I want her help finalizing my next paint night and the new book club night I want to add, and if I know Em, she’ll be so excited to help plan it all.
When I climb inside my vehicle and start the air-conditioning, I pull out my phone and tap on the text app. His name is near the top of the list, thanks to our messages back and forth last night. I know he’s probably sleeping, but I want him to see it as soon as he wakes up.
Me
What a wonderful surprise to find out someone paid for my massage. If you know who that was, let him know he’s in for quite a thank you later.
Smiling, I slip the device into the cup holder, but before I can back out of my parking spot, my phone rings. “Hi, Dad.”
“How’s my favorite oldest child?”
“I’m doing well. I just had my very first massage.”
“Really,” he replies, a hint of a smile in his voice.
Man, do I miss him.
“Uh huh. It was amazing. Have you ever had one?” I ask.
“Nope. The only hands I want all over my body are your mother’s.”
“Umm, first off, gross visual,” I grumble, making him chuckle. “And second, I’m sure there are male masseurs.”
“I don’t know that’s any better, Lou.” He sighs. “Listen, your sister just stopped by the bar to tell me she’s going to your place after her softball game tomorrow.”
I can’t help but grin. I can imagine my sister blowing in like a little tornado and telling him her plans, despite knowing he won’t be a fan of them. “She mentioned something to the fact,” I reply, keeping my stance neutral.
Dad exhales long and slow. “I’m not a fan of her driving there in the dark.”
“I know,” I reply. “But she is eighteen and graduating high school soon.”
“Don’t remind me,” he murmurs, clearly having a hard time with the fact his youngest child is about to fly the coop.
I don’t say anything, because I can tell he’s struggling right now.
“Anyway, I’m not sure she needs to be on the road after her game.
She could just as easily head over Saturday morning. ”
“I know that’s what you’d prefer, but you need to consider Em.
She’s a good driver, and she’s very mature.
She’s leaving for college in a few months, and then you won’t be able to control what she does like you do in Stewart Grove.
Like you told me when I went off to school.
All you can do is hope you taught them how to be upstanding, levelheaded adults, and pray they don’t mess it up.
But if we do, you’re only a phone call away, no matter the time, day, or reason. ”
I’m greeted with silence, but only for a second. “I sound much more responsible than I feel.”
I snort a laugh. “You’re the best dad in the world. You’ve taught us all well. Well, the jury’s still out on Waylon.”
His chuckle makes me smile. “Yeah, that boy…he’s his father’s son.”
“We all are.”
He sighs. “So, I should let her leave after the game to drive to your place.”
“You should,” I confirm. “And I’ll be watching and waiting for her arrival.”
“I know you will be. All right, she can head your way after.”
“Good, I have a list of things for her to help me with,” I tell him.
“Like?”
I tell him about the karaoke night starting tomorrow, and all about the band performing next weekend. “I was thinking of asking Uncle Tank to make me a platform. You know, for a stage. Something that can be moved if needed.”
“Where are you thinking?” he asks, switching from the dad hat to the bar owner one.
“The back corner by the pool table. It can be pushed to the side to create space.”
“Yeah, I see what you’re saying, but still. Might be tight. And you want to make sure your stage is big enough to accommodate larger bands.”
“I know.”
“What am I talking about, of course you know. You’re my daughter. You’ve probably thought this through a hundred different ways before coming to the conclusion you’ve settled on.”
Smiling, I confirm, “I have.”
“I’m sure Tank will be more than willing to help you.”
My heart aches for the distance between us. I will never take my dad’s hugs for granted. “I’d be disappointed if you didn’t come with him,” I add softly.
I can practically hear the smile in his words as he responds, “Try to keep me away.”
“Never.”
“Good,” he states, clearing his throat. “Now, when she arrives tomorrow, how about you shoot your old man a text, letting me know she made it safely. Heaven knows she won’t send one.”
“Of course.”
“Now, the other reason I called. What’s going on between you and the firefighter?”
My face flushes bright red and my mouth drops open. “What? Who told you?”
Again, silence.
“Well, no one. It was a hunch, but now you’ve confirmed it.”
I growl in frustration. “Walked right into that one.”
“You did. Now, what’s going on with you two. Is it serious?”
“I don’t know. We’re just…hanging out.”
“I see.”
“I’m fine, Dad.”
“I know you are. Your mother raised an exceptional young woman.”
I can’t help but grin a little. “You had a hand in that too.”
“Yeah, but she’s the rock star. I was just lucky to be beside her through it all.”
“And it all started at work.” I knew that will get him.
He groans. “Yeah, yeah.” Clearing his throat, he adds, “Anyway, if this thing ever becomes more than just hanging out, I want to meet him.”
“You’ve already met him.”
“No, I want to meet him as the man who loves my daughter. That’s different than meeting him as her employee.”
“Dad,” I groan, closing my eyes and taking a few deep breaths. This is not the conversation I want to be having now, especially since whatever this is with Collin is so new. We’re having fun, not that I want to say that to my dad.
“I know, I know. I get it, believe me. Just…you’ve only ever brought one guy home, and it was the asshole right after college.”
No need to ask who he’s referring to.
The asshole is Jason.
“I’m not bringing this one home,” I remind.
He huffs out a deep breath. “You’re being difficult.”
I bark out a laugh. “Just like my dad.”
“Your mother,” he mutters. “All right, I’ll let you go, and I won’t bring him up again. I’ll text you when Em’s on her way, and then if you’ll let me know when she arrives, I’d appreciate it.”
“You got it, Dad.”
It’s quiet for a few seconds before he whispers, “I’ll never get tired of hearing you call me that.
” I can hear the emotion in his voice. Dad and I have always had a special bond.
It’s more than just being “the oldest” or his “first daughter.” We grew up together, battled together, learned together.
“There’s no other name I’d ever call you,” I utter, my heart galloping in my chest and a massive lump forming in my throat.
“You used to call me Walk.”
I smile at the memory, even though I don’t really recall using that name. He started dating my mom when I was three, so while I have pieces of memories from my early childhood, I really only remember calling him Dad.
“Daddy Walk.”
He clears his throat. “Okay, I gotta go. Dirt in my eye. Love you, Lou.”
“Love you more, Daddy Walk.”
He doesn’t speak, but not because he doesn’t have anything to say.
He’s emotional and is fighting it. I’ve only ever seen him cry twice.
Once when Aunt Edna passed away, and the other when my sister crashed her bike and was found unconscious in the driveway.
She had a pretty big concussion, a lot of superficial facial injuries that required stitches, and a broken arm.
When she finally opened her eyes at the hospital, she asked him if her pink sparkled bike was okay, and I’ll never forget the relief on Dad’s face.
I sniffle and bat my eyes, clearing my own unshed tears. I need to get back to the bar and prepare for my shift. I push our conversation about Collin out of my head, because we’re not there, and I don’t know if we ever will be.
Does it feel good? Yes.
Does it feel different than previous relationships? Sure does.
Does that mean it’ll progress to something more? Not necessarily.
That thought sits like acid in my gut.
Just as I prepare to pull out of the lot, my phone chimes with a text notification. Smiling, I check my device.
Collin
I might know exactly who did that, and I’m positive he’s looking forward to that thank you.