Father to Son #2
Dad laughs. “I hired Lainey because I heard she was the best in the business. I like that she’s young and in the know about all this social media stuff.” He wags his fingers. “Do I like her for you too? Of course I do. But that was never the reason I brought her here.”
Best to just say it, then. “I’m taking her out. Friday. The Rattler.”
“To hang with all those degenerates and drunks?” Dad curls his lip. “You know how I feel about the Rattler.”
Laughing, I straighten. “You gotta stop saying that shit around Dean. And don’t worry, I’m taking her to dinner first. Sally’s band is playing at the Rattler, though, and it’s always a good time when there’s live music there.”
“If you say so,” Dad says with yet another sigh. “I’m sure y’all will have a nice time.”
My chest twists. “You’re not worried about me mixing business and pleasure?”
“You’re making big changes, son. You’re in therapy.
And you’re smart. You may be, ahem, not exactly easy to deal with sometimes.
But you’re a good man through and through.
Something happens, we’ll deal with it.” He meets my gaze again.
“Because we’re all in this together, yeah?
We have yet to lose an employee because they’ve had a bad experience working here.
We’ll make sure Lainey leaves with a smile too. ”
I’ll leave her with a smile all right.
But there it is: put plainly, the fact that she is leaving. I need to keep sight of that.
I also need to have some fucking fun.
“You don’t need me to tell you that the world ain’t gonna end if you’re a little, er, irresponsible this weekend, right?” Dad asks.
I arch a brow. “Are you giving me permission—”
“Don’t wanna know.” Dad holds up his fingers. “Just know we’ve got you covered.”
Goddamn it, more tears. I don’t wipe them away this time, though.
Instead I reach for Dad and pull him into a bear hug.
“This felt good.” I pat his back. “Can we talk like this more often?”
“Keep doing that, then. Whatever feels good.” Dad squeezes my harder. “And of course. Love you, son.”
“Love you, Dad.”
“But I can’t come?” Dean looks at me like I’ve just stepped on his recently completed LEGO castle. The one that took us two hours to finish last night.
Look at you, already trying to carve out more time for fun.
“Tonight’s for adults only, buddy. Sorry. You’ll have fun with Uncle Tate, though.” Looking in the mirror, I run a comb through my hair for the hundredth time. Looks decent. Still can’t decide if I should wear a hat or not.
Pretty sure Lainey likes me in a hat. But hats make it more difficult to make out on the fly. Say, on the dance floor.
Then again, she refuses to kiss me. And do I want to make such a public declaration of the fact that Lainey and I are hooking up?
I may be a single dad who doesn’t get out much, but I’m not stupid.
I don’t want to fuck up Lainey’s reputation.
Or mine, for that matter. Hartsville is a small town.
Word travels fast here. Last thing we need is people spreading untrue gossip about a visitor.
An important visitor. I have a duty to protect Lainey’s professional reputation. She’s opened up about not knowing what’s next for her career, and I don’t want to create any roadblocks for her future.
I tighten my grip on the comb before dropping it in the drawer underneath the sink. I glance at Elvis, who’s stretched out on the heated tile floor beside my shower.
I swear, everyone in this house follows me wherever I go. I’ve started to call Dean and the dog my posse.
“I wanna see Lainey, though,” Dean whines, pouting. “This is not fair. I can stay up late. Look! I’m not even tired.” He opens his eyes wide.
“Bud, you had a big day. We had your project presentation today at school—”
“But that was just for a little while.”
“What? I was there for two hours! We showed everyone your poster, read that book. Then I stayed for lunch…”
It’s the main reason why I don’t feel much guilt about going out tonight.
Well, that and the fact that I clearly need a break from parenting duty more often.
I’ve noticed my fuse isn’t as short since I spoke with Dad.
Really, since Lainey came over to my house.
I didn’t necessarily get a break from being a dad myself, but I did get a break from being the only adult in the room.
I also got the best blow job of my life. I imagine that helped a lot.
“How about this?” I meet his eyes in the mirror. “What if I ask Lainey if she’ll come over again this weekend?”
Dean hops on the balls of his feet. “Can you? Please? We can build a LEGO set and have a dance party—”
“Since when do you like dance parties?” I laugh.
“Since now. Okay, so you’ll ask Lainey to come over tomorrow—”
“No guarantees on the date.”
“Will you promise?” He holds up his pinkie.
Turning, I hook my own pinkie through his. “Promise. Now what do you think—do I go hat or no hat?”
Dean pushes out his lips as he looks up at me. “I think you wear the hat. Your brown one that’s nice that you wear at Christmas?”
I smile. “I like that idea.”
Donning my “fancy hat,” as Dean calls it, I head out into the kitchen, where I find Nash and Tate chowing down on bowls of the chili I’ve had simmering in the Crock-Pot all day.