Henry
Just about every morning since I’ve come to Sugar Bay, I’ve gone running. Pretty sure my dad would prefer that I skip my workouts, just roll out of bed, and get ready for whatever activity he’s got planned. But my split times and my mental health require that I put in the miles.
When I get back to the apartment, winded and high on endorphins, I almost always find my dad in the kitchen, swilling coffee and demolishing cherry Pop-Tarts, leaving me to figure out a breakfast of my own.
Today, though, he’s gone out for donuts.
When I come out of the bathroom, shaking out my shower-damp hair, he’s on the couch watching Legends of the Fall, pastry box on the coffee table.
“Hey, buddy.” He gestures toward the donuts. “Apple fritter or Boston cream?”
I snag a bottle of water from the fridge, then grab an apple fritter, zoning out in front of the movie until it ends. I watched it with Dad for the first time several years ago, back when he lived in Spokane. It’s one of my favorites.
“So, what’s going on today?” I ask when he shuts off the TV.
“Whatever you’re up for.”
I give him a don’t bullshit me look.
He laughs. “Really. I’m gonna head to the restaurant in a few hours, but until then, we can do whatever you want. Or you can do your own thing.” He leans in to jab me with his elbow, all wink-wink nudge-nudge. “Maybe you’re hoping to see Piper?”
“Maybe,” I say, like I’m not counting the minutes until we can hang out. “You and her sister hit it off, huh?”
Dad gives me a slick grin. “I’d say so.” And then a shadow of concern falls over his face. “Does it bother you? The idea of me seeing a woman?”
“Why would it?”
“I don’t know. ’Cause of your mom?”
“Dad, I’m not delusional. I’ve got no happily-ever-after fantasies about you and Mom.”
He lets out a breath. “I didn’t think so. Wanted to be sure, though.”
Sometimes I forget that he’s a real live adult. In moments like these, he feels like a dad. I don’t hate it. “If you like Tati, see where it goes. I don’t care.”
He jostles my shoulder. “Don’t know how I got so lucky with you, Henry.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t make out so bad myself.”
He grabs the remaining apple fritter and takes a bite. After chewing and swallowing noisily, he says, “Piper’s not gonna mess you up like the last girl you went out with, is she?”
He took Whit and me out for dinner a couple of nights after Christmas, the last time he visited Spokane.
We went to a nice steak house downtown by the river.
He had a lot to drink, and we ended up bailing before dessert.
I had to drive his rental back to Mom’s, where he promptly passed out on her couch.
She was pissed, but she let him sleep it off, grumbling while she filled a glass of water to leave out for him.
Whitney seemed a little embarrassed, like it was her fault the conversation hadn’t been sparkling enough to keep him from overdoing it.
I took her home, embarrassed myself.
“The last girl didn’t mess me up,” I tell Dad, though sometimes I wish I could heap blame on Whitney. Would it be a relief to aim all my anger and sadness at her instead of myself? For sure, but that’d be unfair. Whit wasn’t any stupider or more negligent than I was.
“She sure as hell didn’t do you any favors,” Dad says.
I groan, dragging a hand down my face. “I don’t want to talk about Whitney, okay? But no, Piper’s not gonna mess me up.”
“Your Mom told me—”
“Dad, seriously. Whitney and me…we’re off-limits.”
He nods. “I respect that. I’ve gotta tell you, though: I like Piper better.”
I crack a smile. “On what grounds?”
“She seems fun, is all. I get the impression she’s working on giving her sister a few gray hairs, and that’s how I was when I was your age. She’s gonna be good for you.”
His swift approval makes the donut I just demolished roil in my stomach. Do I belong with someone Davis endorses? Someone he relates to?
“You want to go down to the pool for a while?” he asks. “Bring one of those books of yours. We can hang out. Work on your tan.”
“Yeah,” I say, because that actually sounds like a good way to kill a few hours, not to mention quiet the whispers of doubt that are suddenly running laps through my head.