Page 108 of Callow

She squeezed me a little tighter for a moment before pulling away and sliding back into her seat.

“Okay then. And Mom is gonna love that ring,” she told me, plunging another fry into her milkshake.

She was right about that.

And by the end of that year, I had a wife and a daughter.

Sabrina - 4 years

“Mom! Where are you?” Daphne yelled into the phone, but I could barely hear her over the band playing their hearts out.

“Concert,” I called, walking further away from the speakers. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Calling to check in,” she said.

“Baby, it’s a Friday night,” I said as I moved outside, Callow at my heels. “Why the hell are you calling your mother? Isn’t there some party you should be at, doing things you know I would not approve of?”

Though, considering I was four drinks and a few hits in, I would be a real hypocrite if I took issue with any of her college antics.

What can I say? I spent my twenties changing diapers and crying over bills. Now that my kid was grown and out on her own, I was maybe making up a little bit for lost time.

“Some of us have finals to worry about,” she said, sounding hilariously prim and proper.

“Nerd,” I accused, getting a small laugh out of her.

“What concert are you at?”

“Oh, one of those bands that you call ‘classic rock’ even though they are from just, you know, twenty years ago.”

“That is classic rock, Mom,” she reminded me.

“So, how are things? Are you still seeing that pre-med guy?”

“The one Dad called… oh, what was it?”

“The product of too much tequila and a drugstore condom,” I said, having to hold back a laugh. That wasn’t even the funniest thing he’d had to say about that particular love prospect of our daughter. It was still not quite as mean as what Callow used to call Daph’s first boyfriend who had an unfortunately large head, making Callow once say was a ‘sniper’s dream.’

What can I say?

Callow hated every guy who looked Daphne’s way. He was so certain in his belief that no man would ever deserve her.

He stayed true to that thing she told me he said to her the night he saved her at the bar.

Thatboys ain’t shit.

“That’s over. Long over,” she clarified.

Long over? I was pretty sure she’d still been dating him when I talked to her seven or eight days ago. But, I guess, when you were that age, time seemed a lot more endless than it actually was.

“Uh-oh. What did he do?”

“He’s just not right,” Daphne said. “You and Dad ruined me,” she declared with a dramatic sigh.

“I’m sure we did. But how, exactly, in this way did we fuck you up?”

“Are you drunk?” Daphne asked.

“Yes. Answer the question.”

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