Chapter 11 Boxed Chicken is Food
BOXED CHICKEN IS FOOD
Addie
Addie spelunked through her father’s freezer trunk, wishing she had one of those helmets with a flashlight. She shifted things, and went deeper, her feet coming off the ground before she realized the truth.
“Pops!” Addie turned a harsh glare on Simon Whitlock. “You said you had food and that I didn’t need to make a grocery trip!”
Lying down, back flat on a rolling cart, only her father’s lower half stuck out from under the rusted mass of steel he’d “rescued” from the nearby dump. “I do have food. You’ve been digging through it all for the last forty minutes.”
“No, I’ve been searching through all these boxes of frozen fried chicken trying to find it.”
“Is chicken not food?”
Addie took a deep, mental breath. “You’re killing me here, Pops. And yourself with all that instant stuff. Where are the vegetables? And what about a salad?”
“That stuff goes bad too fast.”
“Not if you actually eat it and don’t let it sit around forever.”
Her father rolled out from under the car and shot her a look. “Who’s the parent here? Me or you?”
“I don’t know. Who has to make sure you eat something other than boxed fried chicken?” Addie cocked a hip and dared him to challenge her.
“Sometimes I throw some French fries into that fancy air fryer thing you got me.”
“I bought that to make it easier for you to roast vegetables, not French fries!” The landline phone rang in the house, giving her an opportunity to make some kind of grocery list. “This discussion isn’t over.
I’ll see who’s on the phone, and then I’ll head to the store and get you some healthier meal options.
“Hello?” Addie picked up the wall-mounted phone, an ancient relic she’d tried convincing her father to give up years ago, and waited a beat, fully expecting a scam phone call.
“Hi.” The woman’s soft Irish accent sounded surprised. “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting someone to answer the phone other than Simon. Is this Maxine? Or Adalyn?”
Not a telemarketer then …
“This is Addie,” she answered, curiosity piqued.
“I’ll take a wild guess and say that Simon is currently buried under that scrap-metal project of his?”
“Sounds like you know my father. Would you like me to go get him?”
“No, no. I don’t want to interrupt him. But could you give him a message for me?”
“Absolutely.” Addie pulled a pen and paper out of the junk drawer.
“This is Caroline. Could you let him know that I’ll be watching my grandson a little longer than I anticipated, so we can either reschedule, or maybe try and catch a later movie.”
“A later movie. Sure.” Addie’s pen hovered over the paper a second before she scrambled to write everything down. “I’ll make sure he gets the message. And he knows how to get back to you?”
“Absolutely.”
“Okay. Good.”
“It was nice finally getting to talk to you, Addie. I’ve heard so much about you and your sister that it’s nice to finally put a voice with the stories.”
“Same.” Or it would’ve been nice to hear stories or a name, but that was a conversation to be had with her father.
She hung up the phone and leaned against the counter, first pausing to digest the information that her father had just received a call from a lady friend.
Not only that, but they’d clearly made date-type plans, and from the sound of it, not for the first time.
She couldn’t recall her father going on even one date since her parents’ split.
Not a group date. Not a blind date. Definitely not a movie date.
Addie debated next tactics and dialed her sister.
“Does the name Caroline mean anything to you?” Addie asked the second Maxi picked up the call.
“Should it? Please don’t tell me it’s another disgruntled former client because we have all of those that we can handle at the moment.”
“Definitely not.”
“Good.” Max hummed, deep in thought. “I vaguely remember booking Pop a haircut a few months ago, and I think the stylist’s name was Caroline. Although I could totally be pulling that out of my ass. Why?”
“Because I just played secretary for our father, and it was Caroline needing to change the time of their movie date.”
Maxi gasped. “You did not.”
“Why would I lie about that?”
“That’s … wow.” Maxi paused. “Wait. If he was ready to date, why didn’t he ask me to match him? I could save him from kissing a lot of toads.”
Could she have though? Her matchmaking track record had definitely plummeted recently.
“Or maybe not.” Maxi sighed as if reading her mind. “What did you say when you asked him about her?”
“I haven’t yet.” Her father’s tools clanked in the garage and a moment later, his footsteps slapped against the cement floor as he walked toward the house. “Shit. He’s coming.”
“Play it cool. Be subtle.”
“Subtle. Right.” No one who knew her had ever accused her of being subtle, but how difficult could it be? “Gotta go.”
“Who was on the phone?” Her father stepped into the kitchen and scrubbed his hands at the sink. “Another salesperson bribing me to add all those streaming services?”
“Not unless their name was Caroline and you have a movie date with them,” Addie joked.
Guess she couldn’t do subtle after all.
Her father froze like a deer in headlights before wiping his still greasy hands on his pants and turning toward her. “It was … uh … Caroline?”
“Yep. And just so I’m passing the message on correctly”—she held the note in front of her and cleared her throat—“she’s watching her grandson later than expected. Either reschedule or catch a later movie. Let her know.”
They stared at each other in awkwardly growing silence, a stubborn battle of wills.
Neither wanted to cave first, but Addie’s curiosity eventually surpassed her stubbornness.
“Know what I find funny? I’ll tell you. She said she was thrilled to put a voice to all the stories she’s been told about me and Max, but I couldn’t return the sentiment because this was the first I’ve heard the name Caroline. ”
“It’s not what you think.” Pink stained her father’s whiskered cheeks.
“I think it’s a date, and from the sound of it, tonight wouldn’t be the first one with her.”
He bristled. “I’m a grown man, Adalyn Whitlock. I’m allowed to date. Hell, haven’t you and your sister been begging me to do so for years?”
“It’s not that you have a girlfriend, Pops. It’s that this is the first time we’ve heard of it, and her, while Caroline seems to know all about us.”
He scraped his palm over his face before sighing. “I’m not good at dating. Never was. Never will be. There was no point in telling you girls about Caroline until there was a marginal chance that I wouldn’t fuck it all to high holy Hades.”
“So you’ve dated before Caroline?” Addie couldn’t keep the hurt out of her voice.
“Only a couple times, and none went past the first.”
Now that Addie understood well.
“It may come as a shock to you,” her father added, “but I’m not very good at it. Guess I’m too old and too gruff for some. What do they call it? A fixer-upper?”
“Bullshit.” Addie’s defenses rose. “Anyone you date should feel honored to do so, and if they don’t, that’s on them. Not you. There’s no fixing necessary.”
He leaned his ass against the counter, his lips pulled into a small smile. “All right then. Yes. I’ve gone out a few times with Caroline and she’s … nice. Definitely doesn’t scare off easily, so that’s saying something. We’ve gone out a handful of times.”
“A handful?”
He shrugged. “Maybe six.”
“Six dates is technically two handfuls.”
Her father shot her an amused look and she lifted her hands in mock surrender. “Okay. So six dates with a seventh up in the air. I guess I’ll call Maxi back and tell her that our father hasn’t been body-snatched after all.”
“As long as we’re on the subject of mystery dates…”
Addie’s fingers paused on her cell. “Actually, they’re not considered mystery dates anymore because I know about them.”
“Yeah, I’m not talking about my mystery dates.” Her father hesitated, watching her intently. “The oddest thing happened during the Yankees-Mets game the other night.”
Addie’s heart went from a normal rhythm to a quickened staccato as she slowly turned to face the music. “Really?”
“Yeah. Damnedest thing.” He crossed his arms over his broad chest. “Needed a fifth-inning snack and was in the kitchen for maybe ten seconds and came back to dozens of texts from Zee, from down at the rec center.”
“Sounds pretty run-of-the-mill to me. Pretty sure the two of you shit-talk during every game,” Addie said of her father’s longtime Mets rival.
“Except he wasn’t texting about the game. He swore up and down he’d seen you on the Cupid Cam, and according to his daughter, the guy you were lip-locked with was some bad-boy rock star.”
Addie feigned innocence. “Huh. That is odd.”
“Told him he’d fallen off his rocker and hit his head too hard, but I found the replay so I could see for myself. You either have a doppelg?nger with your exact baseball wardrobe, or that was you being dipped and kissed by a Mets fan.”
“Okay, it’s not what it looks like.” Addie mirrored his words by way of defense.
“You’re telling me that he’s not a Mets fan?” Her father tilted his head, the move emphasizing his disappointed glower. “Because I can overlook the musician thing, but rooting for those other guys? Not sure that’s something I can condone.”
Addie struggled for words, the entire situation so ridiculous that she couldn’t do anything but chuckle, and once she started, she couldn’t stop. Tears leaked from her eyes as she struggled to breathe.
“I’m glad you find this humorous,” her father grumbled.
“You find out that I’m dating a drummer, and yet all you’re worried about is his favorite baseball team? For most parents, it would be the other way around. You know that, right?”
“Well, I’m not most parents. And you know how to take care of yourself when it comes to all those other dating things. But those fans? They’re ruthless. It wouldn’t surprise me if he had an ulterior motive and plans to lure you over to the dark side.”
She wiped away tears of laughter. “He’s a Mets fan, Pops. Not a member of a doomsday cult.”
He grunted. “Pretty much the same if you ask me. So … you’re dating?”
“Yes. No. I mean…” Addie wheezed, reining in her breathing. “Kind of? But not really. He and I are helping each other out.”
“Am I supposed to know what that means?”
“He’s helping me with the whole Anti-Aphro-Mom thing, and I’m helping him get in touch with his musical Muse.” She paused. “Fuel some inspiration.”
He studied her without saying a word, his silence pregnant.
“What?” Addie finally asked awkwardly.
“What type of music are you inspiring?”
Addie opened her mouth to answer, but quickly realized she didn’t have one. “I don’t know. I didn’t really ask.”
“If it’s cynical funk, or something like that, yeah, I get that … but if it’s…” He trailed off.
“If it’s what?” Addie already knew what he was about to say. “Are you saying I can’t inspire him to write a love ballad?”
“Sweetheart, I love you more than my next breath, but you know what I’m saying here, right?”
She heaved out a heavy sigh. “Yeah. I know. And honestly, I have no idea how to help him, but he claims that I do. The point I’m trying to make is that what you saw on the Cupid Cam wasn’t real. It’s a fauxmance.”
He stared blankly.
“Like a fake romance,” she added.
“Okay. Sure. I get it.”
He didn’t look like he got it.
“You know what it reminds me of?” Her father rubbed a palm over his bearded jaw as she began writing a grocery list.
“What’s that?”
“This rom-com Caroline and I saw last week. The main characters started off a lot like you just mentioned. With an I’ll-scratch-your-back, you-scratch-mine arrangement. Hell, they even wrote a contract. But it didn’t go the way either of them expected.”
Her father’s not-so-subtle warning didn’t come as a surprise, except for the info that he’d willingly watched a rom-com. But she didn’t have any other options. All she could do was hold on tight and wish for the best.
And hope her life didn’t turn into some ill-fated rom-com.