Just a Number(97)

I swallow a painful lump in my throat, and it falls like a lead weight into my increasingly nauseous belly. “I do,” I tell him softly. “I don’t know what our future holds, Dad, but what I do know is that he’s all I see when I look into it. He makes me happier than I’ve ever been, and I think I do the same for him… Which is why it kills us that we’ve managed to hurt the one person that means the world to both of us.”

“Amy…”

“He thinks you hate him,” I tell him point-blank. “It’s unbearable for me to see him like this…to see both of you like this.” He remains quiet, and I can see that Owen’s assumption is far from true, but I still want confirmation. “Is he right? Are you ready to throw in the towel after thirty years of friendship?”

Dad thrusts his fingers through his hair and then drags his hands over his face. “Jesus, Ames,” he mumbles behind his hands. “Of course I don’t hate him. I’m pissed off, sure, but I don’t hate him…or you. I could never begrudge either one of you your happiness.” He looks at me, his anger finally leaving his eyes. “Even if that means you’ve found it with each other.”

It’s a small step toward victory, and I accept it with open arms.

“I would never ask you to leave him,” Dad continues, making my eyes warm with tears again. “Not even at the risk of my own happiness. As your father, all I want is for you to be happy. I’ve been a selfish prick these last couple days, and I refuse to continue on down that path.”

I open my mouth to say something, but he shakes his head and continues. “I’m still hurt about being kept in the dark, so all I ask is that you both just give me time to sort everything out in my head. Can you do that?”

I wipe the few tears that have fallen and nod, a stupid smile spreading across my face. Hope shines brightly overhead, and I welcome its warmth. “Y-yeah,” I stammer, “we can do that.”

Dad smiles and places his hands on his thighs. “Good.” He hesitates a moment, looking around for a minute. “Well, I, uh, should probably head home. Carla’s probably wondering where I am.”

Understanding this is his way of getting space to think about everything we’ve talked about, I agree. “Yeah. Me too, actually. I should get on the highway before sunset, anyway.”

“Good thinking.”

We both stand at the same time, our chair legs scraping across the scuffed diner floor, and I move forward at the same time he does. Normally, hugging my father isn’t so awkward, but given everything that’s happened, I suppose this is to be expected.

He reaches out, wrapping his arms around me, and the minute I’m against his chest, I wind my arms around his waist and settle in. He rests his cheek on the top of my head, and I feel his exhaled breath as it weaves through my hair. I squeeze him just a little bit tighter, because just an hour ago, I was afraid that a moment like this might never happen again. I’m grateful that we’d been given this opportunity to talk.

I hold back a few more tears—of happiness this time—and he finally loosens his grip on me. I swear I hear him sniffle, and when I look up, I see that his eyes are also glistening and slightly red. “Drive safe, Amy.”

“I will, Dad,” I assure him, slowly removing my arms from around his waist.

Before he turns and leaves, he leans forward and kisses my forehead lightly. “I love you, Amy. I just…”

I sigh. “Need time. I know.”

Nodding once, he smiles as he drops enough cash to cover my meal and his coffee onto the table and turns to go. All the while, I stand there in the middle of the diner, watching as he gets into his vehicle and pulls out of the lot. Once his taillights are out of my line of vision, I reach for my purse and jacket and head for home.

Owen will want to know everything that happened, and I’m hoping that hearing what my dad had to say about their friendship being salvageable will make him feel better. Even if only a little.

The drive back to the city is a much more relaxed experience than the one here. While not everything has been settled between the three of us, I can feel the hope starting to break through the clouds of anxiety that have been hovering over me.

I’m excited to be returning to Owen’s condo and can’t park his car fast enough before rushing to the elevator. Naturally, because I’m anxious to see him, the elevator moves slower than molasses. I think he’ll be happy to hear that visiting with my dad was…well, terrifying at first, but it was definitely what was needed to get us one step closer to a resolution.