“What’s up, kid?” he asked. I gave him a suspicious look.
“Um…nothing.” I closed my magazine, sitting up higher in my recliner. “Why are you being weird?” I laughed.
“I’m being weird? Really?” His eyes stretched wide, and then he shook his head. “I just wanted to pop in. Say hello. It’s also my day off. Wasn’t sure if you had any plans with Frankie or anything…”
“I don’t. She volunteers at a summer camp on the weekends,” I told him.
“Oh, okay.” His eyes lit up then, like he’d had an idea but wasn’t sure it would work out. “Well, since we’re both free, I thought we could have one of our father-daughter dates again. You know, like how we used to have, with a movie, some popcorn, and those peanut M&M’s you like? You still like those, right?”
I laughed. “Yeah, Dad. I still like them.”
“Well, good. Let’s catch a movie then. Figured we should try and hang out since me and your mom will be going to Paris soon. What do you say?”
“That sounds great, actually.” I climbed off the bed. “I’ll meet you downstairs in ten.”
“Cool, cool.” He stepped back and grabbed the doorknob. He was about to turn back and say something, but he stopped himself, deciding to close the door behind him instead.
If there was one thing I knew about my dad, it’s that he was never really sure how to handle my teenage self. When I was younger, he said I couldn’t get enough of being around him, but as I developed, he realized that I wanted to be alone more. I became closed-off, feisty, and talked less.
Dad said he didn’t have any siblings and also that his parents weren’t very good role models, so he was still learning. For that, I cut him some slack. He wasn’t doing a terrible job. Not by a long shot.
Dad drove us to the same movie theater we always went to when I was a little girl. It was the one that had the pink riding dragon in the lobby, where I used to punch in a quarter and ride the thing for two exciting minutes. Sometimes more than once.
We ordered a large popcorn with extra butter and a king-sized pack of peanut M&M’s. We were seeing some action movie that had Michael B. Jordan in it. While we did, I realized that I missed these moments—hanging out with my dad one-on-one, cracking jokes on him and letting him do the same to me.
He always teased me about my hair, saying I most likely got it from him because when it frizzed up, I looked like I had an afro. He could be such an ass. It was no wonder he and Cane got along so well.
Thinking of Cane instantly brought my mood down. His best friend was all I could think about, and he didn’t even know it. My dad had his issues, yes, but overall he was a great person and didn’t deserve betrayal or secrets.
After the movie, we went to grab some frozen yogurt. I got the cheesecake flavor and topped mine with gummy bears and chocolate chips. When I sat down, Dad looked at my sweet concoction and scrunched his nose.
“What?” I laughed, digging right in. “Don’t hate. You’re just jealous that mine has more flavor than yours. Who comes to a place like this and only gets vanilla yogurt? So lame,” I joked.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” His laugh rumbled deep. That one really tickled him. “Won’t be surprised if you start complaining about how much your stomach hurts later.” His eyes widened. “Oh, man. That reminds me. I remember when you were seven, and we went out to a self-serve ice cream parlor for your birthday. I let you get whatever you wanted on it. Girl, you piled it high with everything. Gummy worms, chocolate fudge, cookie crumbles, caramel, more chocolate fudge—everything! Your mom flipped out!”
I busted out laughing. “Oh—now that you say it, think I remember that!”
“Yep. But I told your mom it was okay, that it was your birthday, and you could have whatever you wanted.”
I bobbed my head. “Mm-hmm.”
“Turns out you weren’t okay. You got home, jumped all over the place because you were pumped with sugar, and then you threw up all over your bed. It was a mess.”
“Oh, God,” I groaned, wincing.
“Your mom told me off. You know how she is,” he chuckled after taking a bite. “But it was cool. I told her I had it handled, so I tossed your sheets in the washer, helped you get in the shower, and then took you down to the man cave so we could watch your favorite princess movies.”
“Really?” I smiled, dropping my gaze.
“Yep. I remember that day so well because it was the first time you asked me to take care of you. Before that, you would always ask your mom to help you with stuff like that, but when you asked me, it made me proud, you know? I felt like a real dad in that moment. And holding you in my arms as we watched those cheesy, girly movies was the icing on top. Wouldn’t trade that moment for the world.”