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Patrick was in the living room watching something on TV and Dad was reading his newspaper on his favorite chair.
How was I going to do this?
“Hey kiddo,” Dad said when he saw me. “Your Mom’s been telling me about some boy named Owen from school.”
Oh God!
“Mhmm,” I squeaked.
“So? Tell me about this boy.”
I bit my lip, then stiffened my back and tightened my fists. I was going to do it.
“Dad, can I talk to you and Mom in the kitchen?”
That grabbed Patrick’s attention immediately. He turned to look at me with wide eyes and high eyebrows.
“You doing it?” he mouthed at me.
I nodded.
“Well dang, I gotta go,” Patrick said abruptly, standing and fleeing out the front door.
Mom appeared at the kitchen door and Dad looked up at me, folding his paper into his lap.
They both stared at me, waiting.
So, I opened my mouth and let it all out.
“Owen isn’t just a boy at school,” I admitted. “He’s one of the teachers there.”
Mom’s mouth opened in horror, but I trudged on.
“He’s the most incredible man I’ve ever met, and he’s successful, mature, strong, brilliant, handsome—”
“A professor?” Dad barked. “He’s one of your teachers?”
I shook my head.
“No. I mean, he’s head of the English department. He’s who I TA for, but none of that is affected by our relationship.”
Mom blinked rapidly, trying to process the words coming out of my mouth.
“I know it’s not conventional, but he’s a good man. And…I love him.”
Dad made a click with his mouth and looked down at the paper again without comment.
“Are you saying that you’ve been dating a…how old is he if he’s a professor.”
I gulped.
“He’s forty-two,” I admitted.
Mom collapsed into the couch and started waving a hand at her face.
“Forty-two?” Dad finally burst out. “He’s old enough to be your father!”
I cringed, hating when Dad yelled. I understood it though, which was why I trudged on.
