Page 16 of What If I Knew You

Some of the times the combos were so amazing I forgot I was actually eating a hotdog. Other times?

Well…best not to remember those times.

Let’s just say some toppings really don’t need to be put on a hotdog.

Snapping a quick picture of my lunch, I send it to Mr. Stranger since we seem to have bonded a bit over food.

Me

My lunch for the day. Ever had a hotdog like this? #foodporn

“It’s really great to have you back here, Sweetheart,” Dad says with an appreciative smile as he takes a messy bite. He chuckles and grabs his napkin to wipe his face. “I missed these lunch dates.”

“Same.” I nod to my dad with a mouth full of food. “They definitely don’t make them like this in London.”

“So, have you gotten yourself all settled in? Anything you need? You know I’m more than willing to?—”

“Dad,” I say for the twelve-hundredth time since I got home a few weeks ago. “I don’t need your money. I promise I’m good. I handled life an ocean away all on my own. I can certainly handle it here in California.”

Although the boxes in storage that I have yet to pick up and unpack tell a bit of a different story.

“I’m just saying, Corri. I make more money than one person could ever need. I could’ve made sure you were set up with a state-of-the-art house if you would’ve just let me.”

“And that’s precisely why I didn’t, Dad. Come on, we’ve been through this before. You can’t just be the guy in my life who spoils his daughter so rotten she forgets to learn how to do things for herself. You know, one day you won’t be around anymore and then what will I do if you’ve always done everything for me?”

He shrugs and passes me a smirk. “Marry a rich man and hope that he’s half as good to you as I was?”

“Dad.” I chuckle this time.

“I know, Sweetheart. I know. I’m sorry. With your mother not around and you in another country, it got a little lonely around here. I just want to feel like I’m doing something good.”

I cock my head. “Dad, what are you even talking about? You do loads of good! You give so much money to so many organizations in need. You might think that’s just a normal day for you but think about the millions of people who could never give back the way you do.”

“I guess that’s true but it’s just money.”

“It’s not always money. You’ve played Santa for the kids at Pacific Children’s for years. That’s not money. It’s time. It’s effort. It’s compassion. You know I’m right. Not every man gets to be the head coach of a professional hockey team. If you don’t think that’s special in and of itself, or that you didn’t work your ass off to get that position, you need to walk yourself into my hospital and have your head examined.”

“Don’t you work at the Children’s Hospital?” He grins, referring to the fact I spend most of my days with children.

“Yeah, but they’d take a peek at your brain if I asked them to. Then I can tell all the kids what a whacko you are. Speakingof the kids, even when I left you never stopped being Santa for them.”

Dad shakes his head. “And deny them a little bit of Christmas magic when they’re lying in a hospital bed? I would never.”

“See?” I pat his hand across the table. “You do good things, Dad. And I have so much respect for what you do. You’ve taught me well. Now you have to let me spread my wings a bit, okay?”

He nods, quietly watching me with a glint in his eye. “Alright. I promise I’ll try. But you have to promise you’ll come to me if you ever need help. With anything.”

“You know I will, Dad.” I smile at him and squeeze his hand. “Now tell me how the team is looking. I know it’s early but hockey is hockey. How are Barrett’s knees holding up?”

Dad laughs as he wipes his mouth with his napkin again. “That grumpy bear wouldn’t tell me if his knee literally came unattached from his body. He’d just strap on his guard and put himself back out there on the ice. But I’ve got to tell you about the Pickle Pants.”

A goofy grin spreads across my face. “Pickle Pants?”

“Ollenberg’s latest prank on the new kid.”

“Bodhi Roche?”

“Yeah. You know how Ollenberg likes to wear his stupid pajama pants?”

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