I don’t smile that often.
You do for me
Then I’ll try to bring my smile around more often. Just for you.
Beau doesn’t respond after that, and I don’t worry about where he’s gone, setting my phone aside while I finish eating, the wine going down as smoothly as I’d expected it to. It’s dark outside now, the late sunset getting a little earlier every night, and I think I want to breathe it in. It’s unusual for me to leave a mess in my kitchen, but I only pack up the leftover pasta for another couple of nights and leave most of the dishes to soak, eager to move on. Upstairs, I change into swim trunks and grab a towel from the linen closet. Then I’m in my backyard with a second glass of wine, the jets in the spa rumbling to life while I take a sip.
I’ve got my phone too, and once I’m chest-deep in the hot water, I call Lucy and put her on speaker.
“Hey, dad.”
A door slams shut behind her, and I hear the clatter of a couple of other things. “Bad time to talk?”
“Perfect, actually,” she says. “Just got home. Now you can listen to me shovel cold Chinese food into my mouth while I lookfor some old tv show to fall asleep to when I inevitably pass out on my couch in an hour.”
“Luce, at the very least, please start treating yourself to properly heated takeout.”
“Sure. Let me grab a pen. September’s an excellent time to start a list of New Year’s resolutions.”
I sigh. “Should there also be something on there about working longer hours than I do?”
“I knew it was part of the deal when I got hired. New GMs get a hell of a paycheck, but very little time off.”
“Nice paycheck and access to great wine,” I add, glancing at the glass next to me. “I opened the merlot tonight.”
“Mmmm, one of the best we serve here. And the winery’s practically down the street.”
“Ah, the swanky resort life. World-class restaurants, three swimming pools, palm trees as far as the eye can see, and a nearby winery keeping you stocked enough that you can ship a case to your dear old dad.” I get a hum in response and assume she’s busy eating, but I poke for more. “Everything else going okay? Nobody is giving you a hard time?”
Lucy hesitates, and as much as I want to keep blaming the food, she clears her throat to buy herself a few seconds. I tense until she answers with a calm she inherited from her mother.
“Relax, dad. I can practically hear you growling,” she starts. “It’s—my coworkers are awesome. Really. As for anyone else, I think you and I both know there are always gonna be people who—some people don’t like when anything is different.Anything. So, there’s some of that, but it’s nothing new, and I’m fine.”
I take her at her word—I couldn’t imagine doing anything less after a lifetime of loving her—but I also make a mental note to check my calendar and talk to her about booking a room for a long weekend. Maybe once the weather has cooled.
“Making any friends?” I ask.
“In between bad takeout and an early bedtime?”
“So, probably not a lot of dating either.”
There’s more noise on her end, and then a perfect little laugh. “For me? Absolutely not. But what about you? Is this the night you tell me there’s someone special?”
It’s not the first time she’s asked me that, but maybe I’m carrying a fresh bruise somewhere, my body made tender by something long intangible. Recent weeks have made me wish I could catch it and pin it down long enough to understand this thing that’s made me ache, but I lift the wine glass and take another sip instead. Once I’ve set it aside, I slip further into the water, the jets at my back as soothing as the music still playing inside.
“Already had someone special, Luce.”
“And she died nine years ago, dad.”
“Do you think I’m lonely?” I ask, the question almost an echo of the one I’d recently asked Darren with Guinness on my tongue.
“Nope,” she answers easily. “But you don’t need to wait to feel something objectively uncomfortable before wanting better than that. You can make yourself a snack before you’re starving. You can rest before you’re exhausted. And you—”
“Can find another someone special before I’m lonely.”
“Exactly.”
“How did you become so wise?”