Her Best Friend's Dad

Despite how well Jean and I have been getting along the past month, I am cautious to tip the balance. Besides, I don’t know if I can hide my post-orgasm glow from them. “No thanks. Finance dropped off papers for Beck this morning, and I want to get them in order for him. He should be back today or tomorrow. Thank you though; I appreciate the invitation.” The thought of anything with red sauce turned my stomach anyway.

“Would you like us to bring you something back?” Jean’s voice is way too sweet, and I know part of it is she wants an excuse to be up here, but their white pizza does sound good to me.

I try to match her tone, if not for her sake, for my father’s. “If it’s not too much trouble, Jean, their alfredo deep dish pizza would be amazing. Otherwise, I can just grab something downstairs or have it sent up.”

She promises to bring back their personal size deep dish pizza and run it up on her way back to her office. “Maybe even an Italian soda? You like their grapefruit one, right?”

I agree and thank her before hanging up the phone. It’s so weird being nice to her, not referring to her as the Step-Monster. I move over to the guest seating area and call Tasha to tell her about the lunch plans. Putting my feet up on the glass coffee table, I lean back to look out the windows and soak up a bit of the sunshine. It’s been too many days since I last saw it.

“Hey, Lia. What’s up?” Tasha is busy driving but assures me she’s on her handsfree headset. She laughs as I tell her about Jean, and we joke about the research department secretly working on personality switching. “I should mention that to my dad.” Tasha swears, and I hear a car’s horn blare repeatedly. “Mother fucker! That ass wipe tried to cut me off, and I almost missed my exit.” She swears like a trucker when driving, and my dad blamed Tasha for most of my bad language slip-ups during high school.

“Dad’s plane is landing soon. He said he was going to call and let you know.” Tasha and Beck have a ritual of her picking him up at the airport, spending time together to catch up on their weeks apart. It surprised me at first to find out that he didn’t pay to leave a car there or have one of the company drivers pick him up. He has always been an amazing father. “Oh, he did call,” I answer. It was quite the call…

I’d be lying if I said knowing he’s near doesn’t make my heart race. No matter my intention of trying to play it cool, I still want Beck. Thoughts of seeing him, of what our reunion   will be like, fill me with butterflies. It’s a different sort of nausea than what I’ve felt with his absence. I haven’t been sick enough to throw up, but I just feel funky. Emotions are a bitch. It could be the change in eating habits catching up to me. The cafeteria at work makes sure I eat lunch, and often supper too if I don’t get out the door in time to ride home with Jean. Jess is obnoxious about standing in the doorway until he sees that I’ve opened my meal and taken a bite. It’s as if Beck made sure they’re taking care of me in his absence. Not that anyone would admit to that…

The stress of the show is doing awful things to me too. I’m relieved that it will be over tonight. The gallery has been great at promoting my show—even having me talk to the local radio station about what it’s like as a local artist who has come home to make art here. I did throw up then thanks to my nerves. I promised my dad I would go to the doctor next week if I wasn’t sleeping better and feeling back to my old self. He threatened to complain to Beck that I was working too hard, thinking that two dads could keep me in line.

“You are still planning on coming tonight, right?” I ask Tasha. Despite staying over to keep her company often the past month, I know she requires constant reminders to get her there. “Chris is welcome, too.” I’ve met him a few times, and he is a nice guy. Tasha was right in thinking Chris isn’t exactly the type her father would want her dating, but I have faith that Beck would give him a chance. He wants his daughter to be happy, and anyone can see that Chris treats her well.

“Absolutely. I’ll be there when the doors open so I can make sure you don’t hide in the back corner until it’s all over. There’s my dad! I gotta help him load his luggage into the trunk. I’ll see you tonight. Love you lots!” The line goes dead before I can reply.