Page 63 of The Strawberry Patch Pancake House
By the time the kitchen was cleaned up and he was heading home, it was after five. He ignored the excitement he felt at the thought of seeing Iris again and gave his dad a call. If anyone could talk some sense into Archer, it would be him.
He dialed and put his dad on speakerphone.
‘Hey, Arch!’
‘Hi, Dad.’
‘How are you? How’s the weather up there?’
Archer frowned through the windshield. It had finally stopped raining but today was windy enough to still warrant a jacket. Archer was wondering if warmer weather was ever going to get here. ‘Not great.’
His dad chuckled. ‘It’s beautiful down here. Played eighteen beautiful holes today.’
Archer had grown up outside of Boston but his dad and stepmom had retired down in South Carolina, and they never tired of telling Archer about how nice the weather was.
‘That’s great, Dad.’
‘What? You didn’t call to hear me brag about the weather?’ he asked with a chuckle.
‘Not really.’
‘So, what is it, then? How’s little Olive? I’ve got a good story all picked out for next time.’
Archer had started doing video chats between Olive and his dad, and his dad had taken to reading her stories to break the ice. When Olive asked him if he was her new grandpa, Archer was sure his dad was going to cry. He’d be lying if he said there wasn’t a tear in his eye, too.
‘That’s great, Dad. Olive’s fine. She’s doing really well, actually.’
‘Okay, so what’s the problem?’
Archer cleared his throat. ‘Uh, it’s the nanny.’
‘Not working out?’
‘No, she’s working out great. Olive loves her. Iris seems to know how to get her out of her shell and to make her feel better when she’s down.’
‘That sounds perfect. So, what’s the problem?’
‘Uh … we…’
‘Archie, please don’t tell me you slept with the nanny.’
It stung a little bit that his father would assume he would do that, but he wasn’t totally wrong.
‘No, not really. I mean, no. We haven’tslept together,slept together.’
‘Get to the point, son.’
Archer sighed. This was why he’d called, right? His father’s no-nonsense approach to problems.
‘We got drunk and slept in the same bed, but nothing happened.’
‘Archer.’
‘I know. It’s bad, but I can’t seem to?—’
‘Can’t seem to what? Act like a gentleman? Behave like the man I raised you to be?’
‘That’s not it. It’s not like that.’ Archer ran a frustrated hand down his face. It wasn’t like that, was it? He knew his feelings weren’t one-sided, but that didn’t make any of this a good idea.
