He Loves Me Back.... Probably

Chapter Four

Four

It’s been two days since I’ve last seen Charlie.

Not that I’m worried. He said he wasn’t playing me.

He’s not playing me… right?

I laughed out loud, here I am sitting at the table, eating Cocoa Puffs, and talking to myself. I’ll be in the Asylum in no time.

I sighed, I did miss him though. And Dad likes him, so that’s a plus. Dad said Charlie was honest and kind...

“You think he’s what?” I laughed.

“Honest. Kind. He’s respectable, I think,” Dad grunted that night at dinner.

I laughed to myself.

“I thought you said you weren’t interested in any boys?” Dad asked.

I turned bright red, “I never said boys weren’t interested in me.”

“So this Charlie kid… you don’t like him like that?” Dad asked.

“Dad!” I giggled.

“What? Isn’t this the kind of stuff women talk about?” Dad laughed with me. “I thought you teenaged girls giggled about boys all the time.”

I laughed, “Yeah, but you’re not a teenaged girl Dad! You’re my Dad!”

“Well, I remember you whispering about a boy with your mother before she died,” Dad said softly.

I sighed, “Oh Daddy, just because Mom died doesn’t mean you have to fill in her place. I’m doing okay without her.”

Dad nodded, “I know. It doesn’t mean that I am though… plumerias are her favorite flowers too.”

I sighed, “I’m sorry Dad.”

“It’s fine,” Dad said. He wiped his eyes, coughed, got up, and put his plate in the sink.

He walked over to me then and kissed the top of my head, “Goodnight, Shawna. I love you very much.”

“I love you too, Dad,” I said.

After I made sure he went upstairs I bawled. I didn’t know Mom’s favorite flowers were plumerias too. I’m a terrible daughter, I forgot how much Dad misses Mom.

Mom and Dad had sort of a boy next door love story. Mom lived next door to Donovan, my dad, all her life, she fawned over him. She thought he was the greatest thing since sliced bread. But Dad didn’t see her like that. He thought she was just Jamie Lee the cookie cutter blonde, skinny girl with blue eyes. A few days after she turned eighteen, Donovan noticed Jamie working outside in the hot sun, trimming the bushes. Something caught his eye.

No, not her pretty blue eyes or her blonde hair, it was her freckles.

Curious, Donovan went outside to ask her how long those freckles had been speckled underneath her eyes.

She responded with “They’ve been there for as long as I have loved you, Don.”

“So you’re not the cookie cutter blonde I thought you were,” Don said.

And then Julie blew up on him, “If you think I’m cookie cutter, you’ve got another thing coming to you. I’m not tan on purpose, I like to go outside and fish. I like to climb trees and shoot the damn squirrels that mess up my mom’s plumerias. I’m not blonde by choice; I’d rather have brown hair. I’m skinny because I exercise, not because I don’t eat. I’d prefer steak and potatoes to a salad. I’m probably the most outdoors-y blonde you’ll ever meet, Don. And I take offense to you calling me cookie cutter.”