Page 72 of Keep Your Guard Up
Guess today is a good day then.
I couldn’t help but hug him back, letting go of Chance’s hand and wrapping my arms around his strong frame.
“Hi, Dad,” I mumbled, blinking away the tears that always made an appearance in his company. Good or bad day, it had been the two of us for seventeen years now.
“I’ve missed you, Mari.”
That did it. The tears I had been fighting off were replaced by fresh ones as my dad held me tighter in his embrace.
Suddenly I wasn’t Mari, owner of Knock’s. Or Mari, JJ’s best friend. Or Mari, Marilyn’s granddaughter and namesake.
I was Mari, a ‘dad’s girl’.
I was Mari, a girl whose dad loved her.
I was Mari, a girl who just needed a hug from her dad.
“I missed you too, Dad,” I croaked.
To Chance’s credit, he didn’t back away awkwardly or make his presence known. He simply stood behind me, a small smile on his face, and waited.
“Wherever you need me to be—just say the words.”
I sniffled and pulled away, turning to bring Chance forward.
“Uh, Dad. I’d like to introduce you to someone.” I wiped one of my hands over my eyes, the mascara I’d stupidly put on this morning was definitely already smudged. “This is Chance. Chance Riordan.”
Dad looked Chance over, up and down, left to right. Chance was about two inches taller than Dad, but somehow made sure he wasn’t looking down at him. He stayed silent until Dad extended a hand, a joyful grin breaking out over his face.
“UFL 150, Darlington Harbour 2014,” he said, gripping Chance’s hand.
Chance, on the other side, had his jaw hanging wide open in shock and blue eyes beaming wide with surprise. “Yes, sir,” Chance replied slowly.
“You were there. You came up to me after the show and asked me how the hell you could ever land in my footsteps,” Dad continued, still gripping Chance’s hand.
Chance nodded, lips parted. His eyebrows flicked up to encourage Dad to continue.
“Do you remember what I told you?” he asked, finally dropping the handshake.
Chance’s pink, full lips tipped up at the corners in memory. “Yeah. You told me to find someone who you can well and truly fight for. Someone who completely changes the meaning of fighting,” he replied. “The UFL called and offered me a spot in the prelims on a fight night the very next week.”
“And did you? Find that someone?” Dad asked.
“I have now,” he replied. “I used to think you meant my team, but someone has recently opened my eyes.”
Dad smiled and gestured for us to follow him outside. He gently opened the delicate glass French doors, waving a hand for me to go first. There were four intricately welded, weathered green chairs on the balcony. Rectangular, long planter boxes draped over the railing, overflowing with blooming baby’s breath.
“Quite the garden you have here,” Chance commented, looking over the balcony and fingering one of the dainty flowers.
“Thank you.” Dad smiled, picking up a metal watering can. “Baby’s breath is my wife’s favourite flower,” he added, as if he was talking about something as simple as the weather. He pushed the thin spout of the watering can into the planter boxes one by one, pouring the same amount of water across each.
“That explains a lot, actually,” Chance replied, and my heartstutteredwhen this man bent down and sniffed the flowers.
“Like?” I asked.
“Your Nan has baby’s breath growing everywhere.” He shrugged. “I offered to help her trim them the other day, but she was adamant about it being her ‘Wednesday Job’.”
“You’ve met Marilyn?” Dad asked, sitting down on the other side of the doors and placing the watering can beside him.
