"Things get complicated everywhere."
"Less so when you've got sixty miles of distance and nobody knows your name."
Dad picks up his fork again, but doesn't eat. He's working through the next three moves of this conversation before I've finished the last one. I hate that look. I also learned everything I know from it.
"You can't spend your whole life keeping people at a manageable distance."
"I'm not, Dad. Really."
"You are." He says it without judgment, and somehow that's harder to deal with than if he'd been annoyed. "All this time and you've never brought anyone home. Not once. Not a dinner, not a passing mention. Nothing."
He's right. He's completely right, and I don't have a defense that isn't the truth, and the truth isn't something I'm willing to say. So I shove my plate away and reach for the easiest lie I know.
"Just haven't met the one, I guess."
Dad finally eats a forkful of pasta. "Okay. So what's the plan?"
"The plan is that at some point I'll meet someone I get along with and I'll build a good life with her. I'm not in a rush."
"Someone you get along with." Dad repeats it like I've said something in another language he's translating slowly. "That's your criteria? Getting along?"
"It's a solid foundation."
"Cal, every person in this town gets along with their mechanic. You don't marry your mechanic."
"Not with that attitude you don't."
Dad gives me the look he used to give me when I talked back as a kid. I let him, because the alternative is telling him the truth, and I'm not ready for that. Not tonight, maybe not ever.
"I want a good life," I tell him, keeping my voice even. "I want to settle down, have kids, do all of it. I'm not opposed to any of that. I just don't really care about the falling in love part. I want to find someone I like, someone I respect, and build something with her that actually holds."
A deep frown forms between his eyes.
"You don't want to fall in love?"
I know, in that moment, that I've disappointed him more than I ever have. I'm going about this the wrong way, but I need him not to worry. That matters more than being understood.
"I think you can have a good, solid marriage with someone you like without it having to be a grand love story."
"No girl will settle for like, son."
"I know that. I'm not saying I wouldn't love her. I'd love her. I just..."
I stop to take a long gulp of water because I need a second to figure out how to say this without hurting him.
"I don't want to fall in love the way you mean it," I say gently, watching his face. He just stares at his plate like he's lost his appetite entirely. I need to fix this.
"I think what you and Mom had isn't something most people get. It was the whole thing and I'm not saying therewas anything wrong with it. But I also watched you lose that. I saw what came after."
I hold his gaze, hoping he understands.
"I don't want to go through the same thing."
Dad's whole body changes, slouches, like I've taken the air out of him. All I want is to hug him the way I did eleven years ago when I watched him lose the love of his life and didn't know how to make it stop hurting.
"Buddy..."
"I know it might sound..."
