My Dad's Best Friend Read online

  “Uh-huh,” I say hurriedly, while trying to look nonchalant. Then my dad changes the subject.

  “So how’s your friend, Kara? The crazy one with the blonde hair?”

  I laugh.

  “She’s not crazy!” I admonish. “In fact, Kara is very sane, and a very good friend to me.”

  My dad’s eyebrow arches.

  “Is she?”

  I nod.

  “Yes, definitely. And she’ll be dropping by maybe tomorrow or the day after. She always does, Daddy. Kara and I have been best friends for years. You know that.”

  Rick goes silent, but I notice that the air in the room is a bit charged. I sneak a slight look at him. Is there something that I don’t know? But then, the oven dings, and I go to get the casserole.

  “Almost ready,” I say with satisfaction before closing the oven door. When I turn to look at Rick, I notice that he has a dark flush on his cheekbones, and that he’s stirring rather slowly. “Everything okay?” I ask.

  My dad turns to look at me.

  “Of course,” he says with a smile. “I’m just glad you’re back, kiddo.”

  “Me too,” I say enthusiastically, even though my heart’s pounding with the news I’m about to reveal.

  The doorbell rings exactly at five o’clock--Christopher is always incredibly timely. I give myself one last look at myself in the mirror, surveying my dress, hair, and makeup with a critical eye. Deeming my appearance satisfactory, I run to get the door before my dad can, yelling, “I’ll get it!”

  Chris looks casual yet dashing in dark-wash jeans and a button-up, and comes bearing green bean casserole and my favorite kind of wine. Seeing me, he winks and gives me a quick peck on the cheek.

  “Had to bring the best wine for my best girl,” he whispers in my ear.

  “Hey, Chris!” My dad greets his friend as Christopher comes inside. I close the door behind him, suddenly nervous. We’re going to have the discussion after dinner, so there’s plenty of time for me to stress about it beforehand. When my dad heads into the kitchen to put away the wine and casserole, Christopher grabs my hand and squeezes it. He looks deep into my eyes, and suddenly, I’m reassured. Everything is going to be okay as long as this man is by my side.

  Christopher and my dad chat as they bring all the dishes out, and I set the table using our nicest china. I catch my reflection in one of the plates, and my face is tightly drawn, my eyes wide with worry. Relax, I order myself, hurrying to place the rest of the plates, cutlery, and glasses. Suddenly, I feel a sweet kiss on my cheek--Christopher has come up behind me while my dad is in the kitchen.

  “You okay, baby?” he murmurs.

  I nod, smile at him, and we pull away just as my Rick enters the room, carrying the turkey. Christopher and I ooh and ahh over it, and after Rick sets it down, he performs an elaborate bow.

  “Time to eat!” he announces, and we sit.

  Everything, as usual, is delicious. Thanksgiving food is my favorite, all warm and comforting, and I allow myself to get out of my head and savor the familiar flavors. Christopher and my dad chat for a while; no one protests as I drink some wine, and I feel suddenly very much like an adult.

  “Bailey, tell Christopher how school is going,” my dad says as I’m enjoying some mashed potatoes. I watch Christopher press his lips tightly together, presumably to keep from laughing--he and I talk every day, and he probably knows more about how my college experience is going than my dad does. Still, dinner isn’t over yet. I play along.

  “Everything is fine,” I say, wiping my mouth with a napkin. “I really like my English classes and really hate math, as usual. I’m doing mostly gen eds right now until I decide what I want to do.”

  “How’s Kara doing?” Christopher asks innocently. This time, I try not to quirk a brow at him, as I know he spoke to her when he came to campus looking for me.

  My dad, for some strange reason, immediately looks up.

  “She’s fine, too,” I say, digging into the corn casserole (which, if I do say so myself, is delectable). “We’re just going day by day. College is full of new experiences, and we want to savor them fully.”

  Rick nods and eats a forkful of green bean casserole.

  “Watch out for boys on campus,” he warns. “They’re green and don’t know what they’re doing.”

  I share a quick look with Christopher. My dad has no idea that I have absolutely no interest in the boys on campus whatsoever.

  “Don’t worry,” I say cheerfully. “I’m just focusing on my studies right now.”

  My dad nods with satisfaction and then leans back.

  “I’m trying to weasel it out of Bailey if she’s dating anyone yet,” Rick says to Christopher with a grin. “Although as you can see, I’m torn about my daughter actually dating the opposite sex.”

  I watch a shadow pass over Christopher’s usually open, confident face, and I squeeze my hands together under the table. We haven’t even gotten to dessert yet. Are we going to have this conversation now?

  Christopher looks searchingly at me for a long moment. Finally, I nod. There’s no time, I suppose, like the present. Let’s get this over with.

  “Rick,” Christopher says, setting down his fork and knife. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you.”

  My dad takes another sip of wine. I notice abruptly that my dad has had a glass or two--this could either work in our favor, or not.

  “What’s up?” my dad says. “Is it okay that Bailey hears it too?”

  I open and close my mouth, gaping like a fish, unsure if I’m supposed to interject. Thankfully, Christopher smoothly says, “Absolutely. Actually, it also involves Bailey, so I’m glad she’s here. I’m always glad she’s here.”

  My dad raises both brows, looking between the two of us.

  “I am, too,” he says slowly. “Chris, what’s going on? Is everything okay?”

  “Everything’s fine. More than fine,” Christopher says, his voice calm and commanding, as if he’s completely in control of this difficult conversation. I trust him completely, and my heart swells as he aims a comforting smile at me. “Rick, this may be difficult for you to hear, and I understand if you need some time to fully absorb it. But I’m in love with your daughter, and Bailey is in love with me. We’re in a committed relationship.”

  There. It’s out in the open, hanging in the air like smoke. I wonder how badly we’re about to get burned.

  My dad sets down his wine glass.

  “Excuse me?” he says, as if he misheard something in a casual conversation.

  “I’ve always loved your daughter,” Christopher says, looking unperturbed, “but a few months ago, that love became something different and new. I’m sorry we didn’t tell you sooner--”

  “How many months?” my dad asks, his voice low.

  “We’ve been in a relationship for about three months,” Christopher responds.

  “Three months? And what the fuck were you doing with her before you were ‘in a relationship?’” my dad growls.

  “Dad, I’m nineteen,” I interject, as Christopher’s eyes narrow. I can sense a fight brewing between them and want to mitigate it as much as possible. “I’m sorry, but I’m an adult now, and I can date whoever I want.”

  “That does not include a 45-year-old who’s known you since you were a kid!” my dad finally explodes, pushing his chair back and rising from the table, his fists clenched. Christopher also rises, but it’s to come to my side, placing his hand protectively on my shoulder.

  “Get away from her!” my dad snarls, looking like he wants to lunge across the table.

  “Dad, please calm down,” I cry, feeling tears prick at my eyelids. I had tried to brace myself for this reaction, but it still stings. Christopher squeezes my shoulder, and I look up at him to see that he still looks impassive, in control.

  “Rick, I know how hard this must be, and how much you love Bailey,” he says, calmly. “But I love her, too. I would move mountains for her. This isn’t
just a fling; I’m never going to hurt her. We’re really, truly in love.”

  “You son of a bitch!” my dad shouts, and begins to stalk around the table towards us. I can’t help it--I cry out, and Christopher immediately sweeps me into his arms, murmuring soothing words against my hair.

  I prepare for my dad to wrench Christopher away from me, but it never comes. I tentatively open one eye and peek. My dad has stopped cold, staring at us, slack-jawed.

  “You really do love her, don’t you?” my dad asks, almost tremulously.

  This is my chance. I disentangle myself from Christopher’s arms and slowly, carefully take my dad’s hand. Ricks lets me, but won’t meet my gaze.

  “Dad, I love you so much,” I say. “And I love Christopher, too, so much. He makes me want to be the best version of myself I can be. He makes me laugh. He makes me feel confident. He makes me brave. And I want to do all those things for him, too. Forever.”

  My dad takes a deep breath, lets it out, squeezes my hand, and looks at me--really looks at me. Whatever he sees makes him smile the tiniest bit. At that, I fling my arms around him and hug him as tightly as I can. “I love you, Dad,” I whisper. “Please don’t be angry.”

  “And if you are angry,” Christopher says, “be angry at me. Bailey did nothing wrong.”

  My dad looks meditative for a moment, staring at our clasped hands.

  “Neither of you did anything wrong,” Rick sighs, holding me at arm’s length before turning his attention to Christopher. “I can really see that you two care about each other. I admit it--it’s going to take me a while to get used to this. But if you two are really, truly happy together, then how could I not be happy?”

  “And,” I pipe up, jumping at the chance for some humor, “at least I’m not with Donnie anymore, right?”

  Thank God this makes both my dad and Christopher laugh. They shake hands, we all make up, and, most wonderful of all, we dig into the pumpkin pie.

  When it comes time to leave, I tell my dad that I’m going with Christopher. He blinks a few times, shakes his head, and kisses me on the cheek.

  “Take good care of her, okay?” he says to his best friend. “She’s the only daughter I’ve got.”

  “He always does,” I assure him.

  I shrug into my coat, and Christopher holds the door open for me. The autumn night is beautifully crisp, chill, with the moon hanging high above us. It almost looks like the face in the moon is smiling approvingly down at us.

  “That was certainly a Thanksgiving to remember,” Christopher says as we get into his car. He turns my face to him and kisses me deeply, tasting sweetly of pie spice and wine. He caresses his hand down my arm, and I run my fingers through the thick black waves of his hair.

  “Our first Thanksgiving together--really together,” I murmur between kisses.

  He pulls back to look at me, those blue eyes piercing my very heart. “Our first of many,” he says, and takes my hand in his. “I love you, Bailey Prescott.”

  “I love you, Christopher Maddox,” I whisper.

  We pull out of the driveway and into the night, moonlight illuminating our path to a new life together.

  Epilogue

  Christopher

  * * *

  “Come home from work, babe,” Bailey says in the voicemail she left on my phone. “I have something super exciting to show you.”

  Usually, I’m busy enough that any pleas to return home early can’t be accepted. Today, though, I’m done with my meetings, and everything seems to be running smoothly. Bailey isn’t typically one for exaggeration--if she says she has something exciting to show me, it probably will damn near bowl me over.

  “I’m out of here, Jenna,” I tell my secretary, and she wishes me a good night as I head out of the office.

  Commuting an hour from the business to my new townhouse is taking some getting used to, but it means I get to live near campus with Bailey, who’s still going to school full-time. It’s been a full year since we confessed our love for each other, and revealed our relationship to her dad. I knew it was going to be difficult for Rick to completely swallow despite his initial acceptance. For months, we were on rocky ground as we traversed this unfamiliar territory. I only knew he was starting to come around for real when he invited me over for beer and brats one day. Now, my buddy fully embraces my relationship with his daughter, although he still teases Bailey relentlessly for going after an “old man” like me.

  But to be honest, I suspect that at the moment Rick’s dating someone his daughter’s age. It’s just a feeling, but it would kind-of explain his change in demeanor. He hasn’t introduced the new woman to us yet, but something tells me we’re going to meet Rick’s secret girl soon.

  “I’m home, Bails,” I announce when I walk through the door of our townhouse. She’s parked at our kitchen table, as usual, with a mountain of books and papers in front of her. I smile at the sight. She’s chosen to pursue a marketing degree with a concentration in interior design. I’m proud of her work ethic, and how deftly she balances her classes, her friendships, and her relationship with me. We even find the time to go visit Rick some weekends, and have made a trip or two to her mother’s, as well.

  “Hi honey!” Bailey jumps up from the table, runs over to me, and kisses me like I’m the only man she’s ever wanted. I smile into the kiss and dip her dramatically backwards, making her laugh against my lips. I would do anything to hear that sound every day for the rest of my life.

  “So,” I say as I hang up my leather jacket. “What was so exciting that I needed to rush home?”

  “Well…” Bailey hustles back to the table, then proudly holds up a thick stack of papers. “Tada!” It’s an essay she slaved over for five nights in a row, and it’s emblazoned with a scribbled “A--well done!” at the top.

  I scoop her into my arms again and shower her with kisses.

  “Hell yeah, babe!” I congratulate her. She consistently earns stellar grades, and it’s no surprise to me, knowing how hard she works. “But… Is that really something I needed to come home to see?”

  She suddenly looks shy, and I tip her chin up to look at me. A soft smile plays at the corner of her lips. “Well…” she says, her eyes dancing. “Maybe there’s something else.”

  She goes back to the table, grabs an item, and holds it behind her back. With a deep breath, she presents it to me.

  A pregnancy test.

  A positive pregnancy test.

  “Holy shit,” I breathe, losing my composure immediately. I’m not an overly emotional man, but somewhere, deep down, I’ve always wanted to be a father. I just never found the right woman to parent with, and figured as I neared my fifties that my time was up. I look at Bailey to see tears streaming down her beaming face.

  “Are you sure?” I ask.

  “This is the third positive one I’ve had,” she says, laughing shakily. “I’m very sure, love.”

  I hold her hips and press a kiss to her stomach.

  “Hi, baby,” I whisper to it, my voice hoarse. “We can’t fucking wait to meet you.”

  “Don’t teach the baby how to swear while it’s still in the womb!” Bailey laughs, and then I’m holding her again, kissing her again, like we’re the luckiest people on the planet--which, in my mind, we are. I’m close to tears myself. This is everything I’ve ever wanted.

  Well, almost everything.

  “Bailey,” I whisper, holding her close to me. “I don’t have a ring yet; I want us to pick out something you’ll love. But, considering the circumstances… I think that maybe…” For once, I’m at a loss for words.

  Thankfully, she’s always there to catch me when I’m stumbling.

  “Yes,” she murmurs sweetly while staring soulfully into my eyes.

  I cup her beautiful face in my hands. “Yes, what?”

  “Yes, I’ll marry you, Christopher Maddox.”

  I hold her, so closely that I can hear our hearts beat, hear our breath begin to flow in sync, in and out, lik
e the tide. I imagine our wedding, either an extravagant affair or something low-key; it doesn’t matter, as long as it’s ours. I imagine the first time I notice Bailey’s stomach swelling with new life. I imagine our new house transformed into a home for our growing family, a little boy or girl toddling around.

  I open my eyes to see Bailey staring straight at me, smiling gently, as if she’s imagining the exact same things.

  And I realize there’s no need to imagine, when the most perfect reality is standing right in front of me.

  * * *

  THE END

  * * *

  Curious about the sparks between Kara and Rick?

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  Then pick up My Best Friend’s Dad, available here!

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