“Oh, I kinda do… in a way. It’s just that Daddy is an intense kind of guy. He’s a very private person in some ways. He’s not perfect. I can see that. Neither is Mom, though she has good traits. I just think that Mom has more… psychological baggage or whatever and I’m not always convinced that she’s a good person. Sometimes. I waver, back and forth on that issue. I’ve never had any doubts that Daddy is a good guy, even when he does things that bother me,” the young woman told me now.
“So, who raised you?” I asked her next.
“Both of them… at first. Then they divorced, and of course, Mom got primary custody. Daddy got secondary and/or visitation. That sucked ass, not because I hate Mom. I don’t. But we all wanted more time with him. I don’t doubt that he wanted more time with us. He has a poker face most of the time, but every time he had to take us back to Mom’s, I could see the pain in his eyes, in his face. It was the strained, forced smile of an unhappy father who already missed his daughters. Like you, Daddy had no sons, just daughters.
“One time, he had to discipline my little sister Lauren, and she refused to see him on the next visit. I could see how much it hurt him. I told her as much and she put on a stubborn face at first. But next time around, she didn’t refuse to see him. She gave him a bigger hug than our sister or me,” my prospective date said next.
“Your sister’s name is Lauren?” I reacted to that, “so is my daughter’s. My youngest daughter, in fact. I have Angela, Becca, and Lauren.”
“Oh, wow… my name is Angela and I’m the oldest. Lauren is the baby of the family. Is your Becca the middle daughter, by any chance?” the young lady informed me.
“Yes, as a matter of fact. Your name is Angela? Do you go by Angela or Angie or…?” I trailed off.
“I go by ‘Angel,’ because that’s what Daddy always called me. I refuse to be called ‘Angela’ or ‘Angie’ or even ‘Ange’ by folks. Daddy calls me ‘Angel,’ so that’s who I am. I wish that it wasn’t such a lie sometimes. I mean, I’m not as angelic as I could be. I’m sure that Daddy knows, but being Daddy, he still calls me that,” the reply came next.
“Angel… wait, what is your mother’s name? Is it Ashley, by any chance?” I panicked, realizing something now as a possibility.
“Yes it is. Is your name… Simon, by any chance?” she retorted.
“Yes, it is. Why do you ask?” I toyed with her a little, wanting to have a moment’s fun for the confirmation of my fears.
“Um… are you… Simon March, aged forty-eight, of Dayton, Ohio?” she queried now.
“Yes… are you… Angela aka ‘Angel’ March, currently living in Columbus?” I probed next.
“Daddy… is that you? Have I been talking… and flirting, with my own father?” my daughter basically spoke the unspoken truth that we both feared up to now.
“Yes, Angel, I’m afraid so. Apparently, I’m an old pervert or creep or whatever, flirting with my own daughter, no less,” I accused myself next.
“No, Daddy, you didn’t know. What are the odds, right? Anyway, can we still meet… for dinner or something? I know that I’m not what you were looking for, but I really want to speak to you. I want to hang out with you. I only live in Columbus. It’s not too far away. It hasn’t been for you to visit me at college and all. Pretty please?” Angel pleaded with me, clearly wanting some time with her old man.
Well, I was admittedly not looking for a dinner date with my firstborn daughter, or any of my daughters, in fact. Angel was right about that at least. Even so, I would never pass up an opportunity to hang out with any of my girls… the ones that were still my girls. I didn’t count their mother as one of those, of course. I smiled through a few unshed tears at that unexpected chance.
“Sure, sweetie. I’ll pick you up, of course. We’ll find a place close to your campus. I’ll get to see where my money’s been going for the past three, almost four years, now that you’re so close to graduation. Obviously, I’ll pay, too. I was going to, anyway, but definitely for one of my girls,” I reassured Angel, who apparently decided to call me in response.
Yep, I heard my cell phone buzz and I picked up, instinctively knowing that it was my eldest daughter on the other end. I was a bit nervous, but I cleared my throat and prepared to discuss things further about this upcoming “date” with my own daughter. I wondered if she would tease me for being on one of those apps and looking for girls her own age.
“Angel?” I asked.
“Yes, Daddy… so, when… tonight? I’m free for once. Finals just finished. I’m very likely to graduate in a week now. I got a little playtime available. Surprisingly, I didn’t have a place to go tonight. Maybe I’m just out of habit. I was looking for a date, though, of course. I guess that I got one now… and with a very handsome silver fox to boot,” she joked.
“Yeah, just refresh and whatever it is you girls do. I’ll be there in ninety minutes, tops, depending upon traffic this Friday night,” I replied now, “I suppose that I’ll hear about it from your mother, but I can honestly tell her that it was you.”
“Yes, well, Mom, as much as I love her, needs to learn to stick her nose out of your business. She gave up any right to ask those kinds of questions when she cheated on you and ended her marriage to you. I’ll be ready in that time, I swear. I don’t know how, but I will. I don’t want to make you wait, Daddy,” Angel reassured me, “I love you, Daddy. I’m sorry that we didn’t have as much time together when my sisters and I grew up.”
“I love you, too, Angel. I’m sorry, too,” I gulped, as I hung up and began preparing for my daughter… a date with my own eldest daughter, no less.
I have never been quite so nervous before a date… not even with her mother.
Chapter 2
“Do you want to know who you are? Don’t ask. Act! Action will delineate and define you.” Thomas Jefferson
“Three may keep a secret, if two of them are dead.” Benjamin Franklin, Poor Richard’s Almanack
“Never give up… No one knows what’s going to happen next.” L. Frank Baum
Later that evening…
“Daddy!” Angel’s eyes came alive as she rushed to embrace me once I arrived in my Ford Ranger pickup.
Sure, it wasn’t super-stylish, but I found that it always drew the right kind of attention. For whatever reason, it suggested a subtle hint of unapologetic masculinity of the type often declared “toxic” in some circles. Women, interestingly, often found it either attracted or repelled them, depending upon their attitudes. This was in spite of the usual TikTok nonsense about how women expect men to become less traditionally masculine or whatever, how insecure and immature men are if they don’t comply with the feminist agenda. In reality, a lot of ladies in my experience seemed to feel differently on an intuitive level.
“Angel baby!” I held my daughter tight as she briefly shed a couple of tears and then wiped them away.
“Daddy…, I know that we see each other now and then, but we haven’t done this kind of thing… not in a while. I missed you! So have Becca and Lauren, I swear! It’s not your fault, but we never did get as much time with you as we wished… or you wished, for that matter,” Angel reassured me as she sat in the passenger seat of the cab.