It Started With A Whisper

“You know sweetheart, why don’t we just go out today, a little father-daughter bonding?” I peer up at my dad over my black rimmed glasses skeptically.

                “Dad, we spend every evening together, don’t you think we get enough father-daughter bonding time as it is?” I shake my head before looking back down at the papers in front of me, letting my hair fall over my face but I can’t hide the miniscule smile that brightens my features.

                “Are you saying that you don’t want to spend time with me anymore? I can change, don’t do this,” I turn around just in time to see my dad fall to his knees and I can’t help but laugh at his dramatic antics.

                “Dear, it’s nothing you can change, I just can’t do this anymore,” I adopt a southern belle accent as I place my right hand on my forehead. We both look at each other for a moment before laughing hysterically.

                “Go change, we’re going out to eat,” he gets up from the carpeted floor of my bedroom before striding towards the door. I’ve always admired that about my dad, he doesn’t just walk into a place to blend in, his figure demands attention. A man who rarely ever stops to get what he wants, he has the attitude and personality to be the demanding lawyer that he is. His tall figure could seem imposing to any child but I used to find safety in his arms and the laugh lines around his green eyes are proof of all the adventurous memories I’ve stored in my head.

                “If you were going to take me out anyway why give me a choice?” I throw my right hand up as I continue to scribble with my left.

                “Well, I thought I’d give you the choice to do the right thing but I was getting my way anyways,” he drawls out before walking out of the room. I organize the papers for this weeks’ edition of the newspaper before heading up to my closet. I put on some black pants and a dressy shirt, my dad knows he’ll never get me into a dress, they repulse me. Maybe that’s one of the downfalls about growing up with a single father. Either way wearing a dress makes me feel like something could fly up under there at any given moment. I let my brown hair down in its routine waves before applying some lip balm and grabbing my bag. Hey, I’m a girl just one that doesn’t like dresses.

                “You ready?” he’s already standing by the door with a white button down shirt and black slacks. Another downfall about living with a single father is living with one women deem ‘sexy’ and are always chasing after. I used to get so jealous when I was a child that I eventually began to sabotage his dates.

                “Yeah,” I nod awkwardly as I hop in place putting my heeled boots on causing him to roll his eyes. I smile at him to signal I’m ready and we head out the door and pile into his car, being a corporate lawyer definitely pays off if your prize is a black Lamborghini. The ride is quiet except for the idle chatter here and there and in no time we pull up into the quaint French restaurant.

                “What’s going on?” I ask as I walk besides my dad and into the small but refined establishment. A host immediately escorts us to our table for two and my dad immediately orders a bottle of red wine. I give him a calculating gaze that he chooses to ignore.

                “This wine’s pretty good,” he smiles at a waitress in a very flirtatious manner that has me shaking my head. He can be such a player sometimes it’s not even funny. He sees me staring at him and downs another glass of wine. Why couldn’t he just get drunk in the comfort and privacy of our home?

                “An explanation would be pretty good too, you only bring me to this restaurant on special occasion or when you have bad news for me,” I take a sip of my coke while giving the man in front of me the ‘no beating around the bush’ look. He runs a hand through his hair, causing audible sighs to be heard in the room, a sign that he’s cautious of what he’s about to tell me.