Page 59 of British Daddy to Go

“Aren’t you going to ask how I know exactly what has your brain befuddled?”

“No, because you have no idea,” I tell him. I down my beer and order another. The amber liquid is already warming my core.Thanks, Mum, I think.This was a fantastic idea.

My father laughs and asks the bartender for the same beer I’ve been drinking.

“Don’t like the hard drink?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “I don’t know why I bothered. Everyone knows a pint is the better choice.”

I hold my glass up to his. “I learned that from you.”

“You know what else you learned from me? Your love of women.”

I groan. Is it possible that my father is already drunk after only one drink? I know there’s a lot of alcohol in an iced tea, but he’s never been a lightweight before.

“I’m not sloshed, boy. I’m speaking truth that you need to hear.”

Well, apparently my father is a mind reader.

“Or maybe you’re saying everything you think out loud,” Dad says with a hearty laugh. “Three beers, andyou’realready tipsy? Have the States made you a lightweight?”

“I don’t drink much anymore. I think old age has taken my tolerance away.”

Dad nods. “That’ll happen. I can’t drink like I used to.”

I take a slow sip of my beer. Mum wanted us out of her hair, but I don’t think she genuinely wanted us drinking too much this afternoon. The restaurant she booked for us this evening is as classy as they come in this city. They have a dress code and a code of conduct. Staggering through the door isn’t an option.

“Anyway, tell me what happened with that gal you were so excited to tell me about that you called me at two in the morning.”

“I’m really sorry about that, Dad.”

He waves his hand as if to say it doesn’t matter. “You know I was packing for this trip at the last minute anyway. Talking to you was a lot better than packing my suitcases. Do you have any idea how much you need to bring for a month-long trip?”

“Thirty pairs of underwear?”

Dad laughs. “More like forty, just in case.” He takes a long sip of his foamy beer and sets the glass down on the table. “Now, get on with it. What happened with the girl? Did you forgive her like I said?”

“I did, and we had an amazing night together. This morning, it got all screwed up.”

“That explains the crease between your eyebrows. What happened?”

The fight was only this morning, but it feels like months have gone by since then. “She has a complicated home life, and she ended up staying the night last night when she hadn’t meant to. She freaked out and started saying some awful things. She basically compared what we did to prostitution.”

Dad sits back like I’d slapped him. “You’re not seeing a married girl, are you?”

“Of course not!” I say a bit too loudly. The waitress eyes us wearily, so I lower my voice. “She’s just… younger than I am. Twenty-five, so perfectly legal. But she lives at home with strict, conservative parents. She has a curfew and everything.”

“Well, that is complicated. And it doesn’t sound healthy to me.”

I nod. “That’s my thought, too, but she wouldn’t hear of it. She took off after the prostitute comment, and we haven’t spoken since.”

“That was this morning?”

“Just an hour or so before your flight got in.”

Dad considers the story while sipping his beer. “I knew it was girl trouble, but I didn’t expect this. And you haven’t tried to call her?”

“I needed to cool down. She literally compared her spending the night with me to prostitution. I don’t care how crazy her parents are, that’s just not something you say to a person. I’d never pay for sex!”