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“So he’s not suspicious of us?”
“I’m not sure, but I figured the hour drive to Albany over here in New York was worth it…at least for now. How do you like McGeary’s?”
“Yeah, it great. It’s really getting me into the St. Patrick’s Day spirit,” I say admiring the live music bellowing out in the wood-paneled tavern which has absolutely amazing food.
“Well, now that you’re mine I’m going to make sure you’ve always got the luck of the Irish on your side.”
The front door of the pub swings open and immediately I see my dad…and he sees me.
I slide down in my seat but it’s no use. Danny just keeps eating as if nothing’s going on, even though my dad’s marching right over to us.
“I thought I might find you two here.”
“I didn’t know you were looking for us,” Danny says. “Want to join us?”
“You printed out the directions and left them on the printer, Danny.” My dad pauses. “What are you two doing here? I mean, this doesn’t seem like you’re working on the parade.”
“We are and we aren’t,” Danny says, swallowing his last bite.
Considering I’ve never even been on a proper date before this sure is one heck of a way to start.
“Care to enlighten me?”
Danny breathes out hard. “Can you sit?”
“Can you tell me what’s going on?” my dad’s angry, but he’s still calm, cool, and collected. He’s had so much conflict resolution training over the course of his career, plus all the years he put in on the beat on the south side of Boston, and he’s used to anything. He never folds under pressure.
“I’m in love with your daughter.”
My stomach shoots up to my throat and then drops. I go from feeling immediate dread at my dad’s imminent reaction to a sense of extreme pleasure, hearing Danny say the words for the first time and to say them aloud.
My dad looks at Danny and then looks at me. I just look up at him with a look that doesn’t deny Danny’s words.
My dad pivots on the balls of his feet and walks out of the restaurant just as calmly as he walked in.
I’m not sure what to think.
Danny shrugs his shoulders. “Shot of Jameson?”
“Yes please!”
CHAPTER 16
Marilyn
Listening In
“You haven’t picked up that basketball in a week,” my mom says to my dad.
I stop at the top of the stairs and slowly backpedal a couple steps so they don’t see me.
“And you haven’t been fishing either,” my mom adds. My dad just sits there on the couch reading some book, or at least appearing to. The book is open and he’s looking at it, but I counted a full twenty minutes yesterday and he didn’t even turn one page and his eyes weren’t tracking the words.
My mom moves over to my dad on the couch and takes a comforting tone. “Just give him a call. He’s your best friend for Pete’s sake.”
“Did you want to make something for dinner or order?” So much for that conversation. My dad shut that down real quick, but he doesn’t know that I’ve got my mom’s back.
I slowly move back to my room and send a text message to Danny. We’ve been dating and having a good time, with the exception of my dad. He obviously doesn’t approve, but he’s not trying to come between us either, which I appreciate. I’m glad he’s respecting my decision, even though he hasn’t accepted it…yet.
I stay in my room keeping an eye on the street in front of our house. Not ten minutes later Danny texts me that he’s three minutes away. Luckily he’s not scheduled to work tonight either so maybe my plan can actually work.
“Mom, can you come up here so I can show you something?” I yell down the stairs.
“Can you bring it down here?”
“No, it’s up here only.”
That didn’t really make sense but luckily it doesn’t matter. A few seconds later and my mom is standing at the entrance of my room.
“What’s up?”
I motion over to the window and a minute later Danny drives up.
“You’re going out tonight?”
“Nope.”
“Well then who’s going to answer the door?”
“Dad is.”
“Oh no. What do you have planned?”
The sound of Danny’s knuckles rapping on the front door cause me to jump and feel excitement at the same time. But this isn’t the excitement I always feel when I see him or know that we’re about to spend time together. This is the excitement of seeing what he’s about to do to try and mend fences with my dad.
“Marilyn, it’s for you,” my dad says.
“I can’t make it, dad. Can you get it?”
“Michelle? Michelle?” my dad calls out as my mom and I peak out from around the hallway watching him.
“I’m not answering that damn thing,” he mumbles under his breath, causing us to both duck our heads back and start laughing. I grab my mom’s forearms and she does the same as we laugh even more together, quietly though, and fortunately my dad doesn’t seem to pick up on it.
