“Not today, pumpkin.”
Tossing the lighter on the table, I lean back in my chair. “How did you know Mama was the one?”
He seems intrigued I’m asking this by his raised brow and tight lips, but doesn’t call me out on it. He doesn’t ask if this has anything to do with Ford, and I don’t volunteer it.
“Your mother was the only one.”
“That’s sweet, Daddy.”
“Maybe, but she was the only choice I could make.”
“You mean to tell me no one else wanted you?” I tease. “I thought I heard something about you being as handsome as they come, and Mama saying you looked like a hunkier Sam Elliott?”
He grins like he always does when he thinks about his younger years. “Well, I did have my pick of ’em. Ladies were lined up from here to Atlanta to get a look at your Pop. One night I had three dates with three different women.”
“You were a man whore,” I gasp. “Daddy!”
“I was indeed,” he grins proudly, “but that was before your mama came to town.” He looks back at his Western. “There used to be a place you could go and watch a show for a dollar and a half. I was there one Friday night and there she was, sitting on the tailgate of Buddy Loren’s truck. Prettiest thing I ever saw.”
“Did she just leap off the truck and run to you like they do in the movies?”
He snorts. “It took me six weeks to get her to go on a date with me.”
“That man whore reputation probably sunk you,” I point out.
“Probably. But I got her to agree eventually.” He looks at me again. “I knew she was the one a few weeks after our first date. I was down by the coast, looking over the water and the sun was setting. The sky was this purple color and I remember standing there thinking how beautiful it was and I wished she was there to watch it with me.”
I wait for more, but he just looks at me. “That’s it?”
“That’s it,” he shrugs. “That’s the moment I knew that I wanted to share all the things in my life with only her. That’s really what being The One means, ain’t it?”
“Oh, Daddy,” I sigh.
“I reckon you’re asking me this for a reason.”
“Maybe.”
I pick up the lighter again and start fiddling with it. “His brother is going to run for office again.”
“I saw that on the television. They were talking about him being eyed for the Presidency.”
“Yeah.”
“Why does that have you bothered?”
“I’m pretty sure it would affect Ford too. Like, he’d have to go off with Barrett and do those things. Maybe even move to Washington if he won.”
Dad just looks at me.
“Well?” I ask. “Don’t you see?”
“See what?”
I look at the ceiling. “I’ll be honest with you, Daddy. I love him.”
“I know you do.”
“But . . .” I look at his handsome, wrinkled face. “But I don’t know if I’m willing to put everything on the line for someone that just takes off when they feel like it.”