“She’s professional.”
“I like it when she’s not.”
“Like the time we all had dinner together?”
She nods. “And when she was out with your friend.”
We’ll have to see whether or not he’s still my friend.
“And the fireman isn’t bad, either.”
I glare at her.
“Not for me! He’s old enough to be my granddad!”
“Hey, he’s only my age, you know.”
“Well, he’s still old. That’s so gross!” She gets up, irritated. “I just meant that he could be good for someone like her.”
I don’t like the way this conversation is going; and I like what I’m about to ask my daughter even less. But my parental skills have never been put to question, because I don’t have any. Simple. So I carry on.
“And you don’t think someone like me would be good for her?”
She lifts an eyebrow.
“I mean…” I get to my feet, too. “Do you think someone like me would be good for someone like her?”
“You shouldn’t be asking me.”
I scoff. She’s right.
“But seeing as youareasking me, I’ll tell you what I think.”
“I’d be really grateful if you did.”
“No, Kerry. I don’t think you’d be good for someone like Ms Hill.”
I don’t feel quite so grateful, now.
“You’re different, the two of you.”
“Different?”
“It would be a disaster.”
“Different in what way?”
“She’s intelligent, independent, confident and beautiful.”
I swallow, waiting for her to deliver the final blow.
“You’re…” She looks me up and down, then furrows her brow. “You.”
Wow.
“No offence.”
“None taken.”
