Karen doesn’t say anything, but turns around and then back again. “You better bring that bottle and two glasses with you.”
Did she just say two? She doesn’t need to ask me twice. I'm trying not to stare at her body. I know that this conversation isn’t going to be an easy one; I just didn’t think that Colt would make it so difficult. Then again, I don’t blame him. He was right. I haven’t exactly been in touch and then here I was, expecting him to help me with the business just like that.
I sit down on the couch and put the bottle and the glasses on the table in front of us, within easy reach. I can’t believe that she wants to talk to me. Colt didn’t, and I had practically raised him from when he was young. Karen has only been living with us for a few years, and yet she’s showing more patience than Colt has shown up until now.
“Okay,” she says as she takes the bottle and starts pouring the scotch as if she’s pouring a glass of water.
She passes me the glass and then knocks hers against it and says, “Cheers.”
I’m about to object—to ask her if she knows what she's doing because this isn't a hard cider or whatever people her age normally drink, but I bite me tongue because it’s too late. She’s already coughing as she takes a huge sip of it.
I run to the kitchen and get her some water. I even make it halfway there before I hear the sound of her sweet laugher.
Fuck.
I turn around to see her laughing at her joke at my expense. As I come back, she’s still giggling as she sits on the chair.
“I’m not so straight-laced anymore, Daddy,” she tells me.
I relax, knowing that she was pulling my chain and marveling that Karen isn’t a little kid anymore. Of course she’s tasted scotch. I bet that she’s had a lot stronger in college, and here I am acting as if I need to protect her.
I sigh as I sit down, “I bet you think that’s funny. I was really worried about you. I thought that you were choking and anything could've happened.”
She sighs, “That’s a bit dramatic.”
“I’m still your father,” I tell her and I immediately regret the situation I’ve set up. It’s able to be escalated so easily.
“Sorry, Daddy,” she says, pouting at me. “Do you want to punish me?”
My cock has turned into 12 inches of lead in my pants.
But Karen has moved on.
She shakes her head, “I was kind of disappointed with what you had to say earlier … and let me finish.”
She lifts up her glass and takes a sip, stopping me from interrupting her again. “It’s just that I’ve never understood why you stayed with mom. She was a mess. Promised to get better and then never did. She was full of lies.”
I’m not sure what she’s getting at. I give her my full concentration, feeling good that the scotch is doing its job and making me feel lightheaded. I don’t want to deal with this conversation, because I know for a fact that Karen’s not going to like what I have to say.
“Clara was never in love with me,” I blurt out. I know what she’s getting at, and I want to save her the heartache of thinking that this was anything other than what it was planned to be.
“Look you’re not a kid anymore.” I look at her from head to toe wondering if she’s moved closer toward me, or if it’s all in my imagination. “I was lonely at first, my first wife died too young and I thought that your mom could take her place somehow. Then it was clear that your mom needed a husband as a namesake and I just fit the bill. I accepted that. It was good to have someone to go out with, instead of always being alone.”
The truth was that I was more in love with Clara then she ever was with me, but I got over it in time. I allowed the business to satisfy my needs and I never felt disappointed about the path that she decided to take, especially when I found out how selfish she was deep down inside. I’m not going to tell her daughter the truth beneath it all; at the end of the day, she’s her mom. That has to count for something.
“So you’re not still in love with mom?”
She lifts an eyebrow, and then I realize that she’s nearly sitting on my lap. She’s taken the glass from my hand, and her blue eyes seem to be alight as she starts tracing her fingers along my arm.
“Are you single now?”
I should move away from her. Tell her to stop; my mouth’s saying one thing and my mind another. “Look, this isn’t the conversation that you should be having with your dad. Besides I moved on a long time ago…”