Page 52 of Cuffed to my Roomies
“You would’ve been about three, maybe. Anyway, it wasn’t too long after that Mack hired me on full time. It was a lucky thing, because I was half asleep at that nursing home. The floors didn’t get too clean on my shift,” he said.
“You must’ve been tired. It’s like me doing the internship in the daytime and then going to the restaurant for my shift,” I said.
“You’re a hard worker like your old pop,” he said with a satisfied smile. “How’s waitressing? Still bringing in more tips than anyone else?”
“I’m not waiting tables anymore. I switched to bartending. The timing of the shift works better with my internship hours, and the people I work with are really nice.”
“A bar, though. Lynnie, we talked about this when you were in college. You insisted you knew best, but didn’t you have trouble with men trying to hit on you?”
“That’s true of waitressing too,” I said, “and bartending’s easier. Less rushing around on my feet. And I make better money.”
“I’d be happier if you were working as a waitress. You know what it looks like when a woman makes alcoholic drinks. I’m sure not all female bartenders have tank tops and big hair, but it’s not as respectable as waiting tables. That’s a woman’s job. Bartending, dealing with men who drink too much, that’s men’s work. A smart girl would stick to what is safer,” he said, his voice gentle but scolding. It took everything I had to bite back a sigh.
He ate his burger and fries. I didn’t have much appetite. I tried to let him know I got to attend staff meetings and talk to editors and other interesting people at the magazine, and that I never walked home alone from work.
“My roommates, the two cops who helped me out when my car broke down, they’re really protective. They come to the bar every night after their shift, not to drink but to look out for me and drive me home.”
“That’s good of them. Like older brothers,” Dad said. I tried to think of something, anything to say that would clarify the relationship without giving too much away.
“We’re all three good friends. It’s a safe building, and I like it there,” I said.
“Are you dating anybody?” he asked, eyeing me.
“Well,” I hesitated, “I’ve been seeing someone special, but it’s a little early to introduce you.”
“Good, good. Now, since you’ve caught me up on what’s going on in your life, I feel like I ought to tell you the truth. I’m seeing someone,” he said, his eyes firmly fixed on the napkin beside his plate.
“Seeing someone? That’s great,” I said, taking his hand, “I’m really happy for you.”
“You are?” he said, the concern in his brow smoothing out until he looked almost younger.
“Yes! Why wouldn’t I want you to be happy? Mom’s been gone a very long time.”
“I drove up here to clear the air with you about dating again. I didn’t feel right keeping it from you. I’m glad to hear you say you’re okay with it. I thought you might be upset that I was serious about somebody after your mama.”
“She’s been gone since I was little, Daddy. It’s high time you did something for yourself. I just want you to be happy, no matter what,” I said, a little bit tearful.
“Thank you, sweetie. That makes me real happy to hear you say that,” he said, patting my hand.
Why wouldn’t I be happy for him? I loved him and wanted the best for him. It dawned on me then that he must feel the same way about me, that as long as I was happy and healthy, nothing else was important. He’d understand.
I got to my feet, “Daddy, I know you’re driving home this afternoon, but do you have time to go somewhere with me? I think I changed my mind. I want you to meet who I’m in love with,” I said bravely.
“In love with? Well, that right there’s pretty serious, sweetie. Of course I’ll come meet your boyfriend. I hope he’s a standup guy from a good family.”
We got in my dad’s old pickup, the familiar smell of peppermint and motor oil wafted to my nose. I breathed it in, feeling such a rush of familiarity, of good memories from my childhood riding beside him while we went to pick up parts from the salvage yard, playing country music on the radio. This was my dad, the one who taught me to ride a bike. He’d never want to hurt me, would never give me up because I disagreed with him. Love and family were stronger than that. I knew it.
I texted the guys, who were both at home. “I’m bringing Daddy to meet you. Forgive me for doubting,” I messaged them.
We pulled up to the firehouse, and I explained it was converted into lofts, that I rented a room in one of them. We went up the stairs.
