Page 133 of Anyone But Her

"Or maybe you don't."

"What do you mean?"

He leans back on his hands. "Fathers want you to look up to them. To be proud of them. They want you to be them."

"I don't want to be anything like my dad and he knows it. Yet he keeps pushing me to follow in his footsteps."

"And when you didn't he felt like you thought he wasn't good enough. Like you were putting him down."

"That's not what I was doing. I just didn't want that lifestyle. I didn't want to work in a shipyard the rest of my life."

"Which to him means you think what he does is stupid. A waste of a life."

"I've never once said that to him."

"It doesn't matter. It's what he thinks, and so he wants to prove you wrong. He wants to prove he's smarter than you. That he knows better than you."

"By blackmailing me to give him money?" I shake my head. "I'm not doing it. I'm not giving him money. I don't even have any to give him."

"I didn't say to give him money. But maybe try talking to him. Tell him you know he works hard and you appreciate what he's done for you but you're choosing a different path. Sometimes just a simple conversation is all it takes to make things better."

"It would never work. He wouldn't even listen to me. The only way to get his attention is with money."

"I'm just saying to try it. Couldn't hurt, could it?"

I don't answer. This guy doesn't know my dad like I do. He doesn't understand what I'm dealing with.

"As for Lou, I wouldn't be so quick to assume he's made up his mind about you and his daughter. Lou may be stubborn but stubborn people can change their minds." He stands up. "I need to get back to work. Feel free to stay here until close." He winks at me. "I won't tell anyone."

I lay back on the grass and close my eyes. It was nice of the old guy to let me stay here but his advice wasn't very helpful. Why was he even telling me all that stuff?

Something hits my head and I open my eyes and see a golf ball next to me.

"Sorry!" a kid says as she runs up to me. She's about ten and looks like Taylor when she was that age, with blond pigtails and a big smile.

"It's okay." I hand her the ball.

"Did she hurt you?" a man asks, walking up behind her. I assume it's her dad.

"No, I'm fine. Don't worry about it."

"I'm really sorry." She reaches in her pocket and pulls something out. "You can have this one. I have a bunch. My dad gives me these when I'm sad."

She hands me a yellow golf ball with a smiley face on it. I turn it around and see an 'A' on the other side.

"Her name's Allison," her dad says. "That's what the A is for." He takes her hand. "C'mon, honey. We need to get going."

"Bye!" She waves as they walk away.

I look at the yellow ball with the A on it. No freaking way that's a coincidence. This was totally Albert's doing.

Holding the ball up to the sky I say, "Real funny, Albert. Did you send the old guy over here too to give me advice? And when I didn't listen you knocked me in the head with the ball?"

Maybe that really is what happened. I asked Albert for help and he gave it to me. I just don't think the advice I got will help.

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