Page 25 of What Are the Chances
I decided to lock Will Caufield in a jar and hide it in the back of the pantry.
“Riley!”
I peered up at Parker. “Yeah?”
“Your phone.”
It was vibrating on the counter. Picking it up, I noticed two missed calls from dad and a follow up message asking to meet him for lunch – now. I knew what would happen if I ignored him.
My approach with dad was similar to my mentality with going skydiving. I wanted to skydive one day, but whenever that happened, it needed to be spontaneous – a spur of the moment decision. Having it planned, knowing it was coming up, would be too tiresome. Too much weight to carry.
Comparing having lunch with my dad to jumping out of a plane was sad, but hey, beggars couldn’t be choosers.
I text back that I would meet him in an hour then headed upstairs to shower. By the time I came back down, Parker was asleep on the couch. I draped a blanket over her before grabbing my keys and heading out.
Dad was a creature of habit, so there were only a handful of places to meet. Times like this, I was jealous Tanner had the smart idea to apply to Allentown. It was close enough to his mum, but far enough from dad that he couldn’t be summoned.
In high school I’d applied to colleges far from here. West coast far. I’d gotten in too, but I couldn’t fathom leaving mum alone. The irony that she’d ultimately left me alone wasn’t lost on me.
I pulled my Jeep in besides dad’s luxury SUV. It was the kind of car celebrities were chauffeured around in. I guess dad still considered himself to be of that calibre.
Once inside, I found him sitting at the bar. Usually I avoided Lastlings, Phil-U’s most popular sports bar, but it was generally only filled with college students at night.
I slipped into the barstool beside dad. We didn’t hug or kiss each other on the cheek in greeting. I doubt we’d ever be there.
“Hey.”
He nodded. “Hi.” He cleared his deep throat. “I ordered for you.”
“Ugh, okay.”
“The salmon poke bowl. It’s what you got last time.”
And probably what I would’ve ordered again this time, which is why I decided to let his presumption drop.
His attention was focussed on the screen above us, which was playing a Bruins versus Islanders game. I didn’t care for either team, but the distraction was good.
“How are classes?” he asked.
“Good.”
“Have you spoken to your brother recently?”
“I saw him yesterday.”
“He’s good?”
I nodded. “Everything’s good, dad.” I took a sip of the soda he’d apparently also ordered for me. “How are you?”
Those three syllables were hard to get out.
I hated this awkwardness with my dad, but the reality was that it existed and I honestly couldn’t imagine it evernotexisting.
“Good.”
God, if one of us saidgoodagain I was going to hurl.
The waitress appeared, setting our meals on the bar. We reached for the salt at the same time. With a small smile, dad leant back and gestured for me to go first. I handed it to him once I was done.
