Chances

Chapter 4: Liberty or Drama?

"I already promised your mother I will drop you home as soon as my break is over." Dad responded.

We left the office the minute Dad tells his boss where he's going. I waited near his desk, looking through his sticky notes. Just when I turned to the second page, I heard men snickering in their coffee cups.

"The deadly Ben Hamilton has a soft side, eh?" one of them asked. "Come to think of it, he never mentions his family to anyone."

"I heard that the rumors of his wife is pretty hot, and his daughter's a weirdo."

Unable to hold my anger, I stared hard at them. "Hey guys!" I squealed. "Why don't you pick on somebody else-"

"Cleo," a stern voice interrupted. I looked up and saw Dad, staring down at me.

The men who were making fun of me, stopped talking.

"Hey Charlie," Dad said coldly. "How's betting horses coming along? Great, right?"

"Oh, and Davis Walters, the next time you talk about my wife and child that way, I will ruin your family. Got it?"

The men gave him pale looks and excused themselves to go to the restroom.

"Cool," I breathed. "You can do that?"

"Cleo, I told you a thousand times to be polite to others." Dad scolded.

I stared at him in disbelief.

"But Dad," I whined. "They're jerks-"

"I don't care," he says calmly. "Are we going to Liberty Park, or should I drive you home?"

I blushed fiercely.

"Liberty Park," I mumbled. "I'm sorry, Dad."

Sighing, he ruffled my hair then walked me out of the office.

Ever since I opened my mouth, things were almost quiet between us. Just when I thought Dad is cross with me, he says something only Mom and Uncle Seth would understand.

"This isn't the first time my colleagues whisper about me," he explains. "Because I ignore women and avoided their flirts, they have been spreading rumors that I was gay."

What? I thought. "But Dad, you're not gay." I insisted. "If you are gay, then I'm okay with it."

"That's not the point," he sighed. "The point is that you are a child, and you shouldn't be involved in what they're saying."

I bit my lip and tried to process it slowly.

"Does Mom and Uncle Seth know about this?" I asked.

Dad didn't answer my question, only he dodged it and moved on. 

"I packed the chessboard pieces inside," he says grinning at me.

"Let's pray that the park is still open."

"Of course it's still open," I pouted. "It's a park, not a bank."

"Okay, he chuckled. "I'll take your word for it."

I buried my face in his coat and inhaled his musky scent.

"Got a hot date with Mom?" I guessed.

"Stop asking me questions your uncle would say," Dad giggled.

I rubbed my cheeks against his leather brown coat, to which he smoothed my puffy hair.

"Since when is your hair so fluffy?" he asked.

"I have no idea," I shrugged. "But I like touching it, though."

Dad chuckled some more as he smoothed out my curls.

As soon as the elevator doors slid open, we arrived in the main lobby then stormed out of the building.

As I followed Dad to his black Buick, he reached into his pants pocket and pulled out his car keys.

As he press the unlock button with his forefinger, the bolted doors opened automatically.

I sat in the front passenger seat while Dad sat beside me and shut the door across from him.

"Put on your seatbelt," he insisted politely.

I quickly obeyed his order and prevented my mouth from speaking.

Without a word, Dad shoved the key into the slot and started the car.

On his orders, the Buick roared to life and rolled out of its reserved spot, almost as if it was a raging beast.

Dad tightened his grip on the steering wheel as his left foot rested on the gas pedal.

The street was now clear of oncoming traffic, I wonder if it's just a coincidence.

"I'm thinking of a number between thirty-seven and fifty-five," Dad said.

"Forty-two," I responded.

"Right again," he replied.

I smiled triumphantly. "I'm thinking of a number between fifteen and thirty-one." I say confidently.

"What is it?"

"Twenty-seven," Dad answered without even thinking. "It's your favorite number."

I leaned over his shoulder and shut my eyes for a second until I asked him a question.

"Have you ever been on TV before?" I ask.

Dad nodded before he gently touched the corner of my face with his right hand.

"It was before you were born," he explained. "Your mother and I were in Today Show, six years ago."

I quietly did the math.

"So, you and Mom were nineteen years old?" I asked.

"Yeah, something like that." he replied.

We passed various fast food chain restaurants: Burger King, Wendy's, and Pizza Hut.

"Are you really curious about me?" Dad asked suddenly.

"Your mother tells me that you have been questioning about my activities."

Lifting my head off of his leg, I shyly bobbed my head.

"You never tell me about yourself," I say. "Most of my classmates think you're some kind of movie star or something."

A chuckle escape from his mouth.

"A movie star?" Dad repeated. "I don't know about that."

I gave him a disbelieving look.

"Think about it," I urged. "Why do you think all of my female teachers act strangely when they see you?"

He raised his eyebrow at me.

Despite their commitment to their wives and husbands, my second grade teachers have crushes on my parents. Even though I was a good student with straight As, I suck at Recess.

But instead of scribbling low scores, my P.E. teacher, Coach Vermin, sticks gold stars next to my name. I suspected that he's trying to get Mom's phone number just by giving fake praises.

"I am aware of that," Dad said slowly. "I'm the reason why Coach Vermin got fired."

What? I thought. Coach Vermin got fired?

That did explain why the principal showed up at the gym last month.