West [ COMPLETED ]

XLII

Weston stood up and pulled me to my feet with him.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"I," he said, smoothing my hair down and straightening my shirt that he had messed up, " Have to go talk to your father."

"Oh..." I said, dismayed.

This, was not, going to go over well.

"Don't worry about it baby. It's gonna be alright," he said, bending to hug me and lifting me a few inches off the ground.

I smiled and although I didn't believe him, I nodded.

I was running on a delicious high, and I had never felt more pure happiness in my life at a single moment than this.

I was willing to deal with whatever the consequences were.

"It would probably...be better if you talked to him.... tomorrow," I suggested.

"I agree. But you need to get him back to bed at a decent hour so I don't have to deal with your dad on low sleep."

"Ah. Yes. You're right."

Weston took my hand and led me back up the steps, where everything was just as we left it.

He began cleaning up the eating area and I went over and nudged my dad awake.

After about two minutes of pestering him he sat up fully and mumbled that it was probably time to go home.

"Hey, thanks for coming over Daniel, it was fun doing that again," Weston said, walking over to slap my dad on the back.

"Yeah, thanks for the meal Wes, I'll pay you back sometime," my dad said, stretching and yawning.

"Get to bed Dan," Weston said, carrying our plates in the house.

I gathered the glasses and followed him inside, setting them down in the kitchen and heading toward the front door behind my dad.

Weston followed us out onto the porch.

"Goodnight Wes," I said, and reached out one arm for a hug.

"Goodnight Ave," he said, hugging me to his side and placing a kiss on the top of my head before letting me go.

I quickly glanced towards my Dad and he was looking right at us, so he had to have seen, but he didn't say anything.

I jogged down the steps and walked past my dad, and got halfway across the yard before I realized he wasn't following me. I turned and looked behind me and saw he was standing on the sidewalk with one hand braced on a porch pillar talking up to Weston who stood with his legs braced and his hands in his back pockets. It could have easily been something casual they were talking about, but I was too nervous to stay and find out, so I turned back around and walked back to my house as quickly as I could.

I ran to my bedroom and climbed up on top of my bed to open the window above it and try to see or hear what was going on.

But I could only see and not hear anything, and I couldn't tell anything from their posture because they stood just like they always did.

I gave up and jumped off the bed, going to my closet and changing into my night clothes.

I couldn't stay still though, and so I spent the next 45 minutes working out, doing push-ups and squats, planks and crunches, until I lay on my bedroom floor panting. I jumped back up on my bed to see if they were still talking, but I saw the porch light off and neither one were there anymore.

I didn't know whether to be relieved or terrified.

I tiptoed down the hallway to my dad's room and saw the lights off and heard him snoring. So whatever it was that they talked about, he wasn't talking to me about it tonight, and I took that as a somewhat good sign, because if he would have been furious with me he would have burst right into my room and let me know.

I realized that I still didn't have Weston's number and kicked myself for not asking for it earlier, because now I would have to wait until tomorrow to find out if he had talked to my dad or not.

I wasn't able to fall asleep until very late, but I eventually did.

The next day I realized with a start that Dego was supposed to come get me later.

I small sense of panic set in; so much had to happen within the next eight hours.

Before I consciously realized it, my mind was made up to move back to Florida. It was only a matter for me of returning home to get my few belongings and give the restaurant a couple weeks notice before I came back.

Quite frankly I didn't even want to go back, but I thought about it and decided maybe it would be a good idea to give my dad time to get used to the idea of Weston and I anyway, because if he hadn't found out last night, he was bound to soon.

I took a shower and took my time getting ready for the morning, and realized I was putting off having to face my dad.

I was not a person who liked confrontation, and most of the time, my dad was a very easy-going person, but anytime in my life I had brought up the subject of me dating, he showed a whole other side of himself that was not pleasant to deal with.

I finally worked up the courage to walk into the kitchen and face the music, and my dad was standing at the counter making a cup of coffee.

"Morning Dad," I greeted, sitting on one of the bar stools.

I was met with a long moment of silence before he spoke.

"So. It has come to my attention, to my great disturbance, that my friend of many years wants to date my daughter," my father began without preamble and without looking up from his cup of coffee. "And I told him that that will not be happening."