Page 118 of Nineteen Letters
“Hold on,” your mother chimed in as he turned to leave.
“I said no, Christine,” he snapped. “I don’t want to hear another word about it.”
“She’s my daughter as well, or have you forgotten that?”
“No, I haven’t forgotten that,” he answered, turning to face her, but his shoulders slumped a little. “She’s just a baby.”
“She’s almost eighteen,” she retorted, rolling her eyes. “We knew this was going to come eventually. We were their age once too.”
Your mother had taken you to the doctor a month prior and got you started on birth control, so I already knew how she felt about this.
He shook his head as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his shorts. “I can’t … she’s my little girl.”
“And I was my father’s little girl when you and I …”
Her eyes darted to me, and I was thankful she didn’t finish that sentence. As much as I loved your parents, there were certain things I didn’t want, or need, to know about them.
With that, your dad turned and stormed from the room, and my heart sank. There was no way I was going to defy him and go through with this without his blessing.
I stood. “Thanks for trying, Mrs Robinson.”
“Leave it with me,” she replied, walking me to the front door.
I felt like all hope was lost as I flopped down onto my sofa, burying my head in my hands. I sat there forthe longest time, trying to come up with another way; I wanted so badly to do this for you.
I was pulled from my thoughts when I heard my name. When I looked up, I was both surprised and a little worried to see your father standing at my front door.
“Mr Robinson. Come in.” I opened the screen to let him in, even though I wasn’t sure if that was a wise move.
“I’m not staying. What I need to say can be said from out here.”
“Okay.” That didn’t sound good.
He cleared his throat and shoved his hands into his pockets before he spoke again. “You have my blessing.” With that, he turned and walked down the front stairs.
“Thank you,” I called out as he stalked back to your place, but he didn’t reply.
Although I rushed out and booked everything straightaway in case your father changed his mind, it would still be another five days before I told you. I hated keeping secrets from you, but your reaction was worth it.
It was a Wednesday afternoon, and I’d just picked you up from work. “I have to work again tomorrow,” you said with a huge sigh, as you climbed into the passenger seat of my dad’s car. “That makes six days in a row.”
I’d spoken with your boss, Mr Jefferies, the previous Saturday while you were in the staffroom retrieving your bag. He’d swapped your shifts around so you could have the end of the week off.
“At least you don’t have work Friday, Saturday and Sunday,” I replied. “We’ll have three whole days together.”
“That’s if he doesn’t call me in at the last minute.”
I was grinning to myself because I knew that wasn’t going to happen. “We can do something nice if he doesn’t,” I said, reaching for your hand.
“I’d like that.” You looked over at me and smiled. “Can we go to the lookout for a little while? I’m not ready to go home yet.”
“Sure.”
“I just want to kiss you for a couple of hours … or maybe forever.”
“Okay,” I chuckled. You were always great for my ego. “You’ll get no complaints from me. I don’t have to pick my dad up until six.”
“We have five days to make up for. Five long days. That’s a lot of kisses, you know.”
