Page 51
Twenty-One
Of all the places in the fucking world, I choose a weekend escape to the same place Channing and her girly buddies are. I really wasn’t expecting a dinner invitation for her birthday — that would just be uncomfortable. Especially after I explained to Tala why she ended things. My daughter, bless her, wouldn’t be able to be nice for a whole dinner. The whole encounter leaves me scratching my head. I shouldn’t be excited to see her, my heart shouldn’t be doing that stupid ba-da-doosh thing that it just did. This was supposed to be a getaway, as in get-away from all of the things on my mind. I hang about the lobby long enough that I won’t run into them again; they seemed in an awful hurry to get away from me so I doubt I’ll see them in the halls. I wander about, aimlessly, my brain nowhere near allowing my body to sleep.
I knock on Tala’s door. “Tala.” I hear her shuffling around. She cracks the door open and looks at me, her eyes red and puffy.
“Dad.”
“Are you okay?” I ask her; she’s obviously been crying. This breakup is her first big one, and it’s hurting her.
“I’m fine, why are you up? What do you want?” She looks confused.
“I couldn’t sleep, so I went to the lobby to see if they had a book I could read.” She frowns at me. “I ran into Channing and her friends.” Tala opens the door and motions me to come in. She’s got all the windows open, the fresh night air makes the room cooler than the rest of the lodge.
“They’re here?” she says pulling up her nose. “For a car show?”
“No, for her birthday. Oakley’s father owns this place.”
“Oh, wow. Okay. That makes sense I guess.” I sit down on the sofa, with Tala in the wingback beside it.
“Do you think she’s stalking me?” I ask. Tala warned me about crazy women and stalkers. She chuckles at me now.
“I think Channing has much better things to do than stalk you, Dad. She doesn't fall in that category. I am pretty sure you’re safe.” Tala pulls her legs underneath her, getting comfortable.
“Her one friend invited me to her birthday dinner,” I say. “I declined, she looks a bit ditsy, and obviously had no idea what happened between Channing and I.”
“That would have been a bit of an uncomfortable dinner, glad you dodged that bullet.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, Dad. I just needed a good cry. All better now.” She gives me a soft half smile.
“Are you sure?” I check.
“I’m sure, Dad.” Girls are way harder than boy; neither of the boys cared when their hearts were broken. They just carried on, I guess as men we’re just expected to act like it doesn’t hurt — it still hurts, we just hide it well. I get up, suddenly a wall of fatigue has hit me full force and I am more than ready to get to bed.
“Okay, sweetheart. I’ll see you for breakfast then we can decide what we do for the day.” We had fun today, going out on the row boats in the reserve this morning and soaking up some pampering at the spa all afternoon. I am sure Tala is exhausted too, emotionally and physically.
Tala actually got me up early, which is surprising, I thought she would lie in for sure. There’s not many people having breakfast, and we enjoy a quiet meal. Tala eats some fruit and a piece of toast — new diet, I apparently missed the fact she had weight to lose.
“I have to think of my poor horse,” she says. I just frown and shake my head.
“Really?” I think this jackass that dumped her must have said some pretty douchey things. This isn’t like Tala, though dating dickheads wasn’t her style until recently either.
“You don’t understand, Dad.” She rolls her eyes and bites her toast. I try to understand, but she’s not wrong, I mostly don’t.
“I’m going to walk around the car show, and see what else is going on this morning. What do you want to do?”
“I’ll come with you,” she says. “I signed us up for an afternoon package at the spa. Then I booked us a table for dinner. We did room service last night.” She has the day all sorted by the sounds of it. I'm glad she wants to join me, even though I have a feeling she’ll be bored out of her mind.
“Sounds good to me,” I say, before I order another coffee; I still feel a bit flat after yesterday. “We can go after this cup.” She berates my love of caffeine, reminding me how unhealthy it is. I don’t care, when you’re in business the way I was for years, coffee and whiskey are better than turning to crack. We’re just enjoying the view and the coffee, not even talking anymore, when the sound of a familiar laugh catches my attention. I quickly put down my cup, stand, straighten my shorts — which in this heat I am glad for. Then I say to Tala, “Let’s go.” She glances over her shoulder to where my eyes can’t help but go, and hops up.
“Yup, let’s go,” she says grabbing her purse.
Channing and her friends are seated, and the waiter is taking their order when we escape without having to greet them. Last night was uncomfortable enough, I’d rather not do it again.
The car show is interesting — it’s funny how all collectors are the same no matter what it is they collect. Stamp collectors are just like this lot, puffing out their chests, their egos on full display. It’s a dick measuring contest – these car guys though, they’re really into it. Polishing, shining, and shooing away any unsupervised kid that may wander too close. I just saw one elderly car owner poke a toddler with his walking stick. There’s a concours d’èlégance happening today, and it’s very ‘serious’ business.
They also have a vintage car scavenger hunt starting later, where they adventure through the park and surrounding areas following clues to destinations, and the one to get to all the checkpoints and return wins a large cash prize. I understand their fascination, I am the same about my hobby.
