Didn’t seem like Joanne would be into that. She had a sense of humor, but also seemed like she could be all serious and no nonsense when she needed to be. Oh god, I shouldnevercompare.
Tearing my gaze away from the lamp, I went into Dad’s bathroom. I started riffling through his “grooming” supplies. Technically, yes, they counted as grooming products. Only technically. Why would anyone ever use them? Aside from dumbness. Hey, that’s my dad.
“Ryan, let’s talk,” Dad said. Hey, that’s my dad! Behind me, the mirror showed helpfully while I riffled through his belongings.
“I have the right to an attorney!” I yelled in a totally casual way.
“What, what are you doing?” he asked, like he had to ask even though he didn’t want to know.
“You can’t come into my room and just start demanding answers.” Got him there.
He crossed his arms. “Good thing we’re in my room then, huh?”
“Noticed that, did you?” I asked while grabbing the little trash can in his bathroom and trying to put all his “grooming” products in it.
He didn’t let me do him a favor.
I didn’t find what I needed anyway, so I went back into his room, opening his closet doors and sitting on the floor while rummaging around. He had exactly one pair of dress shoes and next to the closet was a painting he swore he didn’t get on the side of the road when someone threw it out.
There was a pink box in the closet that held sparkly ruby shoes. Those were the touch of whimsy for Mom’s feet. She’d loved theWizard of Ozwhen she was a girl. I avoided the box and looked through the rest of the stuff in the closet
“Can we talk about when we ran into Joanne?” Dad asked my back as I rummaged around. “Still doing okay with that? Still ready to see her more? Do—”
I pulled my head out of his closet to smartly inform him, “Questions work better when you give the other person a chance to answer them.”
“Maybe,” he agreed, then tilted his head. “But how would you know for sure?”
Touché, old man. Touché. The thing about talking 100% of the time was that, if you believed in math, there wasn’t any room for other people to talk. I put my face back in the closet.
“We were talking about getting together next weekend,” he said. “Or maybe the weekend after that? If you’re still okay with that. Whatever you decide.”
I made a triumphant noise and emerged from the closet… Wasn’t the first time I’d done that. Coming out joke! Nailed it! And Luke! Wait, not the time for that thought.
After opening the shoe polish I searched so hard for, Dad immediately informed me, “Donotput that on your face.”
“You never support my dreams!”
“Breaking out right before going on a date with Luke is an ambition of yours?” he asked, crossing his arms again. “Do we need to look into counselling? Didn’t think you were so self-sabotaging.”
“You’re not funny and I’m putting you in a home.” We were in our home right now. “Not this home, a home for old people.”
Dad just watched me, wondering if I was done.
Apparently not. “Which you are. You’re an old. That’s the joke. You’re old and I’m going to subject you to inadequate senior care.” I frowned. “That’s better implied than stated.”
“Are you done yet?” he finally asked.
“I need camouflage,” I declared. “For reasons.” Aesthetic reasons. I wanted to put a streak of black paint or something under my eyes to signify I was a badass.
“Nice try,” Dad told me dryly. “Thinking for reasons is sufficient.”
“I’m telling the truth. It is for reasons!” Being vague for the win.
He thought about it. “If you agree not to put that stuff on your face, I won’t even ask what those reasons are.”
That was a sweet deal. I already wasn’t going to use the shoe polish once dad said breakout, but still, might as well get something for the thing I was already going to do.
I set the tin of shoe polish down. “Terms accepted,” I answered quickly before he could change his mind.
