Page 24 of My Dad's Best Friend

“We were going to spend some time on the Olympic Peninsula when we got back,” John says. “But it turns out that Kath gets seasick. She spent the cruise so miserable that she didn’t want to do anything else but come home. So, we changed our flight and caught a cab back.”

“We weren’t going to tell you like this, you know,” I say. “At least, I wasn’t.”

“I should hope not. You’re lucky I don’t believe in guns.”

“We both know that’s not true,” I say quietly.

“Don’t tell Kat that,” he says.

“As long as you don’t shoot me.”

He considers that for a moment before saying, “You drive a hard bargain, but I think we have a deal.”

Chapter Nine

Marie

“What were you thinking?” Mom hisses at me from the patio door. “That man is twice your age.”

“Don’t, Mom,” I say. I don’t know what to say to her. I can hardly think about her as I watch Dad and Conner across the yard. What are they saying? Is Conner telling him that it’s just a fling, that there’s nothing to worry about, going back on what he told me just moments before?

Is Dad going to kill him?

I’ve never seen him look as angry as he did when he came at Conner. I never in a million years would have pictured him diving at someone, or trying to take a swing at anyone, never mind his best friend. Conner is like a brother to him. And there they were, Conner, wrestling him into submission.

I can’t hear what they’re saying and I’m dying to know.

“He’s your father’s age,” she says again. “You know that, right? He’s literally old enough to be your father.”

“I know, Mom,” I say, keeping my eye on the yard. “I know all of that. We’ve been over this and talked about it. Conner and I are alright with that.”

“I’m sure he is.”

“Mom, it’s not like that. Don’t worry about it.”

“How can you say that?”

“Because it’s not something to worry about. I’m a grown up, now. I’m in college—”

“Exactly,” she says. “You’re in college. You need to be focusing on your degree, not messing around with older men who—”

“Who what?” I ask, facing her. “Conner got rid of my stalker. That guy is gone, and I haven’t seen him since the day after you guys left. That’s the longest I’ve gone without seeing him since I met him on campus. I’m alive, I’m here, I’m not hurting, he’s not using me. It’s fine.”

“You don’t know what you’re doing,” Mom says, her shaking hands clutching onto the phone. “You’re too young for whatever he’s offering you, if he’s offering you anything. I just can’t believe Conner would do this.”

“Conner didn’t do anything other than enter into a mutual and consensual relationship with me,” I say, feeling bold as the words come pouring from my mouth. Is that what we have? A relationship? I sure hope so, especially after whatever is happening between him and Dad. “We did this together. I’m not being manipulated, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

They’re coming back now, Dad and Conner. While Dad just removed Conner’s hand from his shoulder, they’re still smiling. Maybe everything is alright.

“Come on, honey,” Dad says to Mom. “Let’s get unpacked.”

“What’s happening?” she asks.

“I’ll talk to you inside,” he says.

They disappear into the house, Dad’s eyes not even nearing my direction. I watch them disappear into the house, feeling Conner close to me. I close the door, before I wander back to the other side of the yard where the barbecue is, where my lemonade is, and where the open window in my parents’ bedroom won’t pick up our conversation.

“What happened?” I ask when we get far enough away from the house.

“It’s alright,” he said. “Your dad isn’t thrilled, but he’s coming around to the idea.”

“You made quick work of that,” I say, glancing up toward my parent’s window. “Mom’s not at all happy.”

“John will calm Kath down,” Conner says.

“What did you say to him?” I ask. “I mean, I’m sure he thought you were just screwing around with me…” I’m probing him. I know I am. I know he said I have nothing to worry about before Dad interrupted us, but that’s easy to say when we thought they were a week and a few states away. But they’re not now. They’re in the house, here, right now, probably watching us from the window.

“I told him I’m not screwing around with you,” he says, taking both of my hands in his.

“That I’m your’s?” I say, only half joking.

“Not quite,” he says. “If I told him that, I’d have to tell him how I fucked you, and I didn’t think that was going to help the situation.”

“I wouldn’t think so,” I laughed.

“There’s that smile,” he says, a grin crossing his face. His arms wrap around me and he pulls me to him, holding my head against his chest. “You’re mine,” he says, my head nearly vibrating with his voice.

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