“You got it, Dad.”
It’s quiet for a few seconds before he whispers, “I’ll never get tired of hearing you call me that.” I can hear the emotion in his voice. Dad and I have always had a special bond. It’s more than just being “the oldest” or his “first daughter.” We grew up together, battled together,learnedtogether.
“There’s no other name I’d ever call you,” I utter, my heart galloping in my chest and a massive lump forming in my throat.
“You used to call me Walk.”
I smile at the memory, even though I don’t really recall using that name. He started dating my mom when I was three, so while I have pieces of memories from my early childhood, I really only remember calling him Dad.
“Daddy Walk.”
He clears his throat. “Okay, I gotta go. Dirt in my eye. Love you, Lou.”
“Love you more, Daddy Walk.”
He doesn’t speak, but not because he doesn’t have anything to say. He’s emotional and is fighting it. I’ve only ever seen him cry twice. Once when Aunt Edna passed away, and the other when my sister crashed her bike and was found unconscious in the driveway. She had a pretty big concussion, a lot of superficial facial injuries that required stitches, and a broken arm. When she finally opened her eyes at the hospital, she asked him if her pink sparkled bike was okay, and I’ll never forget the relief on Dad’s face.
I sniffle and bat my eyes, clearing my own unshed tears. I need to get back to the bar and prepare for my shift. I push our conversation about Collin out of my head, because we’re not there, and I don’t know if we ever will be.
Does it feel good? Yes.
Does it feel different than previous relationships? Sure does.
Does that mean it’ll progress to something more? Not necessarily.
That thought sits like acid in my gut.
Just as I prepare to pull out of the lot, my phone chimes with a text notification. Smiling, I check my device.
Collin
I might know exactly who did that, and I’m positive he’s looking forward to that thank you.
CHAPTER
NINETEEN
Collin
The moment I walk through the door, my eyes seek her out. She’s behind the bar, pouring a draft beer, and laughing at something a customer says. Just seeing her brings out my own grin.
“Hey, Collin!” Burt hollers.
Throwing my hand up in a wave, I hold her gaze as I head toward her and round the end of the bar. “Hi.”
“Good afternoon,” she replies.
I slip my bag on the shelf and nod to Guy as he exits the walk-in cooler with cases of beer to restock the bar. “Let me help,” I offer, knowing he’s probably ready to finish the restock and get the hell out of here.
When his tasks are done, he bags up the trash, while I place a new bag in the can behind the bar. “I’ll take it on my way out.” Guy clears out the tip jar and shoves the cash in his pocket before clocking out on the sheet in the office.
I know a new sales system, complete with employee timeclock, is the next purchase Lizzie wants to make for the bar, but it was put on hold, choosing to refinish the floors and takecare of other updates first. The old register still works fine, so she hasn’t been in too big of a rush to buy the new system.
“What time is your sister supposed to be here?” I ask after Guy takes off.
“Umm, between eight and eight thirty. Dad is going to text me when she is on her way. She’s leaving straight from the game, not even bothering to change out of her uniform. The only reason Dad is okay with her not going home to shower is because he wants her on the road while it’s still light.”
“I get it,” I reply, but before we can further the conversation, a new group of the post-work crowd stops by for a drink.
