The Truth

“You and my dad?” Elle asks as I start blotting at the tea on the rug. Luckily, it was herbal and doesn’t seem to want to leave behind a stain.

“Yeah, uhm, you know.”

Of course, Elle knows. “You’ve been talking about him for years. When you didn’t do anything after I moved to England, I figured that you were just trying to irk me. Was I wrong?” She already sounds more inquisitive and, dare I dream, supportive?

“No, it’s real. Very real.” I gulp and finish blotting up my spilled tea. The irony isn’t lost on me. “At least, I want it to be.”

Elle hums thoughtfully. “I guess I always pictured him with someone elegant and refined.”

“I’m gonna pretend I’m not offended by that because I know you mean older,” I comment dryly. “If it’d help, I can dye my hair gray? That’s a thing now.”

“Oh, God, please don’t,” Elle says, sighing, but she admits, “Yeah, I mean older.” There’s a long pause, my gut clenching as I await her verdict. “So, you really like him?”

I can picture the wrinkle in her forehead as she imagines it. I think to her, Daniel is an old man, the father who grounded her and made her do the dishes, but to me, he’s something else entirely.

“Have you seen him? He’s walking sex with a brain to back it up.”

“Blech. Don’t talk about my dad and sex in the same sentence.”

“Seriously?” I gasp, rolling my eyes. “You talked about Colton in outrageous detail when you were dating. Hell, even now, I get to hear all the sordid ways you have to hide in the pantry for a quickie so Neve doesn’t find you. I don’t need to know how he puts his clotted cream in your crumpets.”

“Point taken. And puh-leeze do not ever utter the words ‘clotted cream’ again. I’m going to start gagging at tea tomorrow and have to explain why. Besides, this is different.”

I don’t quite see how, so I shift tactics. “So you don’t want to hear about Daniel’s dick poking me in the cheek?”

She makes a gurgling sound of shock before loudly shouting, “No!”

Distantly, I hear Colton calling out, “You okay?” and Elle shushes him before turning her attention back to me. I should get him on speaker. He’ll take my side, I think.

“How did that happen?” Elle demands. But an instant later, she shouts, “Wait! Which cheek—ass or face? Do I want to know?”

I let her off the hook, at least a little, after I’ve made my point. “It’s not nearly as exciting as it sounds,” I admit. “I drunkenly fell asleep on the couch, and he stayed up to keep an eye on me. I woke up with my head in his lap. But it’s good to know that everything’s still in working order. And bigger than I’d ever dreamed.”

Okay, so that last little bit was extra filthy for Elle’s benefit.

“No, no, no. La-la-la-la,” she sings in horror. “I’m hanging up now and losing your number.”

I laugh, as if I don’t have her husband’s cell phone and office number and the old-school landline number to their house already. “Fine, I’ll stop. For now. He’s . . .” I search for some way to describe what Daniel represents to me. What he’s always represented. He’s the bar I compare every other man to, and they always come up lacking compared to him. “Everything. Daniel is what every man should be, but only he is.”

That gets through to Elle, and she takes a big breath. “Wow. That’s . . . wow. I understand how hard it is to find that special someone, and I wouldn’t dream of standing in the way, for you or him. If you think you stand a chance, go for it. But Tiff . . .”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t hurt him.”

That’s reasonable, and I smile in relief. This could have gone about a thousand percent worse. “I won’t.”

“No, I can hear you smiling, but I mean it. He’s not going to know what to do with someone like you—bold, strong, and willing to chase what you want. He’s gonna freak. About dating, about our being friends, and probably about your age,” Elle says, zeroing in on the major issues a lot faster than I did. “But I know you, and you won’t let any of that stop you. So, not that you need it, but you have my permission as long as you really mean it. Just don’t hurt him.”

“I won’t,” I repeat again, letting Elle know I understand her concerns and take them seriously. “I promise.”

“One other thing, honey. Also don’t let him hurt you,” Elle says quietly. “He’s my dad, but he’s got some damage from what my mom did to him. He’s built up the walls around his heart thick and high and doesn’t let anyone inside. It’s gonna take a bulldozer to get through to him, but . . . and I mean this in the nicest way possible, you’re kinda the best bulldozer I know.”