“The baby shower is tomorrow, right?” Madison enquired.
“Yes, all day, unfortunately.”
“How many peopleare going?”
“My dad said roughly fifty people.”
“Do you think Grace will be going?”
“I really hope not, but it’s possible. I didn’t really thinkabout that.”
“So, I will add her to the list of people to avoid. There’s going to be alcohol, isn’t there?” The statement was less of a question and more of a plea.
“Plenty. We’ll make sure we are intoxicated for the full event. Don’tyou worry.”
A 1969 white Chevrolet Camaro rounded the corner at speed, beeping at two different cars before pulling up wildly in the arrival bays. Ashley rolled her eyes, expecting some teenager to climb out and a blonde socialite to run into his arms.
“Is that your dad?” Madison nudged her sunglasses to the end of her nose to double-take. Ashley spun back around to find a bearded but balding middle-aged man with a pair of sneakers and a beige matching summer co-ord. That was Benjamin Stewart.
“Oh, God. Is he having a mid-life crisis?” Ashley muttered under her breath. She waved back whilst recoiling internally. “Is he wearing Jordans?” Ashley said through gritted teeth.
“Yes,yes he is.”
“Oh, God, Ican’t cope.”
Ashley gathered her case. “Here we go.”
Strolling over, she noticed the colour of her dad’s beard was darker, disguising almost all the grey, his grin displayed a set of whitened teeth that would stop traffic and his usual figure—what Ashley would categorise as a‘dad bod’—looked slimmer.
“My little girl, come here.” The embrace was slightly dramatised, as if he was in the running for some secret award unbeknownst to her. Since her parents split, Ashley had only seen her father a handful of times. Each time it felt uncomfortable; she couldn’t shake the blame she placed on him. She vowed to make sure this time was different. They had cleared the air. Even her mom had learnt the art of forgiveness over the past year since she’d found a new love interest, so it seemed there was no reason to be mad at Benjamin anymore.
“Hi, Dad.”
Benjamin turned his attention towards Madison. “Maddie, it’s great to see you, kid.Come here.”
Ashley smirked in the background, happy that Madison was also subject to the same weird, over-energetic treatment. The cringe when he called her‘Maddie’was even more amusing—her nickname as a child that she’d hoped had lost its value.
“Hi, Mr. Stewart. How are you?”
“You can call me Dad. Even better now the two of you are here.” Ashley looked at Madison confused. Benjamin placed the bags in the trunk of the car. “Getin, girls.”
“Does he think we are together?” Madison whispered.
“I have no idea.” They clambered into the small 2-door Camaro.
“When did you getthis, Dad?”
“About six months ago. I got a great deal. I’ve always wanted one, but your mother disapproved, said it wasn’t a family car.” Benjamin smiled. “She had a point at the time, but now my girls are all grown up so it’s time to treat myself.”
Ashley observed the interior. It was in great condition considering it was forty-six years old.
“What about Julia’s kids?”
Julia Raynard, aka, the mistress. The thirty-five-year-old desperate housewife wannabe, as Ashley liked to refer to her. She was fifteen years Benjamin’s junior with two young children and a schedule that included soccer, tennis, ballet, piano lessons and weekly PTA meetings. Ashley wasn’t 100% sure of her career. The desire to know much about her had never been present; the part she played in ruining their family unit stood the test of time.
“They’re old enough now. They love hopping in the white stallion. They feel cool when they arrive at school,” Benjamin said proudly, clearly overjoyed with his purchase.
“Did you just refer to your car as the white stallion?” Ashley raisedher eyebrow.
