Chapter 21 Joel
JOEL
Four weeks later…
Islide my mug under the coffee machine a moment too late, and hot coffee splashes over my knuckles.
“Fuck.”
“Watch your language, Dad.”
Dana’s leaning on the door frame of my office, her school bag hanging from her shoulder.
“Shouldn’t you be at school?” I suck the coffee off my knuckles and glare at the red burn mark there.
Dana ignores my question and throws her bag down by the desk. She shunts me out of the way to get to the cupboard under the coffee machine and pulls out the first aid kit.
“Are you injured?” I ask.
She gives me a stare as if I’m the child and she’s the adult. “No. You are.”
“This?” I wave my red knuckles around, the skin fiery hot from the coffee. “This is nothing.”
She raises her eyebrows at me. I fix her with a stare, and we’re having a standoff like I remember having when she was an impossible toddler.
Finally, she shrugs and puts the first aid kit back in the cupboard.
One point to me.
Damn, I am being a child.
My mug has trails of coffee streaking down the sides, and when I pick it up from the coffee dispenser, one dark droplet falls off the bottom of the mug and onto my white t-shirt.
“Fuck.”
“Dad.” Dana gives me a pointed look. “There are children in here.”
She pretends to be mock offended by putting a hand over her chest.
“Only for another month,” I mutter.
The thought of my little girl turning eighteen and entering the realms of womanhood only deepens my dark mood. Where did the time go? And how did I miss so much of it?
Dana picks up a cloth and comes to stand in front of me. She takes the mug gently from my hands and runs the cloth over the bottom and the sides, clearing up the spilled coffee and saving me from anymore stains on my white t-shirt.
She hands me back the mug, and our gazes meet. Her dark brown eyes, so much like her mother’s, peer up at me with concern.
Hell, turning eighteen in a month is a formality. Dana’s been acting like an adult for the past four years.
“Sorry.” I’m not sure if I’m apologizing for the swearing or for missing so much of her growing up.
She smiles, a rare sight, and gives me a peck on the cheek.
“I’m just fucking with you, Dad. Swearing doesn’t offend me; it’s all part of the beautiful human experience.”
Now it’s my turn to raise my eyebrows. Trust Dana to turn a cuss word into an expression of humanity. “That may be the case, but don’t cuss. It doesn’t sound clever.”
“You just said fuck twice.”
“Okay.” I hold my hand up and let out a long sigh. I know when I’m beaten.
“What are you doing here anyway? Shouldn’t you be at school?”
“Study break.” She goes over to the coffee machine and makes herself a drink. She’s got exams coming up soon, and I’ve yet to see her open a textbook.
“Which means you should be studying.”
She leans over to watch the water drip into her mug. “I’ve just handed in my video assignment for Media Studies.”
Memories of the camping trip flood my mind, and I turn away to my desk so Dana doesn’t see my reaction to the memories her words evoke.
Brooke’s creamy thighs, her shy smile, and the way she came undone under me.
But not just that; every interaction I had with her has been playing over in my mind since we got back from camp four weeks ago.
I put my coffee down on my desk and grip the sides, trying to shake the memories from my head. I realize Dana said something that I missed.
“What was that?”
She peers at me over the top of her coffee mug. “And I wanted to check up on you.”
I can’t hide my surprise. “Check up on me? Why?”
She smirks. “In case you’re burning your fingers on hot drinks.”
It’s hard to get a serious answer out of my daughter.
She sets her mug on the table and puts her hands on her hips. “Look at you, Dad, you’re a mess.”
I release my grip on my desk and straighten up. “No I’m not.”
“You haven’t shaved in weeks, you haven’t been working out, and you’ve got coffee stains on your clothes.”
“That’s not fair. You saw me do that.”
“You’re sweary and grumpy and you stink.”
“Wow, don’t hold back.” You can always count on family to be brutally honest.
I surreptitiously sniff my armpits, and I guess I could step up my personal hygiene. It’s just hard to want to look after yourself when some days it feels pointless getting out of bed.
“You’re not taking care of yourself, and if it’s because of some misplaced noble notion that you can’t date Brooke because she’s my teacher, then I’m here to tell you that that’s bullshit.”
“Dana…”
“And don’t even try to deny it’s because of Brooke. You’ve been moping about like a puppy that got kicked ever since we got back from the camping trip.”
I study my daughter, almost an adult. I could deny it. I could pretend I don’t have feelings for her teacher. I could pretend that Brooke’s rejection hasn’t sent me into a funk where my entire life seems gray and drained of meaning. But I can’t lie to my daughter.
“I like her,” I say simply.
“Well, that’s been obvious since the parent-teacher conference. Have you asked her out?”
I can’t get a read on Dana’s feelings about this. I haven’t dated anyone since her mother passed away. I didn’t want the girls to feel like their mother was being replaced, but now I’ve realized I just never met anyone I wanted to date badly enough. But that’s beside the point.
“She doesn’t want to get involved.”
Dana huffs out an exaggerated breath.
“Look, I don’t know what went down on the camping trip between you two in that cabin.” She holds a hand up, “And I don’t want to know. But you’ve both been miserable ever since.”
“Brooke is miserable?” The news shouldn’t make me feel better, but it means I didn’t imagine the connection between us.
“So if you’re holding back because of me, then you should go for it.”
My mouth drops open as I gape at my daughter, once again feeling like the roles are reversed. “Are you giving me permission to date?”
She rolls her eyes. “We don’t expect you to be alone forever, Dad.”
“By we, you mean you and Nora?”
She rolls her eyes again as if I’m slow to catch on. But I’m dumbfounded that my girls talk about me like this.
“Of course me and Nora. We want you to be happy, Dad.”
I move toward her then and pull her into a hug. She’s stiff at first, but then softens and wraps her arms around me.
“I’m happy with the two of you.”
“Yeah, but we won’t be at home forever. You need someone to keep you company in your old age.”
“I’m only forty-one.”
“Like I said, your old age.”
I hold her at arm’s length, touched that she’s come to my office to tell me this. “That’s sweet of you, honey, but it’s more complicated than that.”
She screws her face up. “Why? You clearly like each other. What’s the problem?”
I cup her face in my palm, my young daughter, who still thinks all you need is love.
“Brooke is on a temporary contract. She’ll be leaving Hope at the end of the year.”
Dana nods thoughtfully. I drop my arms, and she sinks into a chair by the table and cradles her coffee.
“So, you’re telling me she would rather move to a place she doesn’t know, start again at a school she doesn’t know, with people she doesn’t know, than stay here with you in this beautiful, although sometimes dull, town?”
“That’s about the sum of it.”
“Why would she do that? Why wouldn’t she want to stay?”
I sit next to her. “People have different values and different ways they want to live their lives. We have to accept that. I can’t make Brooke stay if she wants to go.”
Dana puts a hand on my arm. “But have you asked her to stay?”
I think back on the conversation we had in the cabin, where I laid my heart out to her and told her it was all or nothing.
And she told me she was moving on in six months.
I gave her an ultimatum when I’d only known her properly for less than a week.
It was enough for me to be sure. But I’ve been around longer than Brooke, I know what love looks like.
I know that when you meet someone special, you’ve got to grab them with both hands, because you may be waiting years before you get the chance again.
I told her it was all or nothing, and she chose nothing. But did I even ask her to stay?
I glance up at Dana. “I didn’t ask her directly. I respect her lifestyle and her reasons for leaving.”
Dana shakes her head in exasperation. “Stop being so damned honorable. Tell her how you feel and beg her to stay.”
“What if she still says no? What if she stays for a while and then decides to leave?” I sound again like the teenager here, uncertain and scared. But it broke my heart when Mina passed, and it’s scary putting myself out there again.
Dana squeezes my arm. “Then you’ll be sad for a while, but you’ll pick yourself up and get on with life.”
I’m not sure how the hell we got to a place where I’m taking relationship advice from my daughter, but here we are.
“But…” she squeezes my arm again. “What if she says yes?”
I imagine Brooke moving into my house, waking up next to her every morning, showing her the best hikes on the mountain, family dinners with the four of us. Brooke, with a round belly, a second chance, an opportunity to be a different kind of dad.
My chest expands, and I sit back in my chair. The room seems brighter, as if I’m seeing it for the first time.
Dana chuckles. “There you go.”
I suddenly know, more than anything, that I want a life with Brooke, whatever that looks like. I push my chair back. “What time does her classes finish?”
Dana’s smiling broadly. “Not till three, but she’s staying late to help some of the students with their final project. It’s due today, and not everyone has it finished.”
I run a hand through my hair. “Okay. I’ll wait.”
Dana claps her hands together. “You have to shower and shave first, Dad; you can’t see her like this.”
I look down at my coffee-stained shirt. Once again, she’s right.
I frown at Dana. “You’re still on study break. Get some textbooks out.”
Dana huffs, but she’s smiling as she reaches into her bag. “Sure Dad.”