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“I am trying to get this dang thing working, but I can’t. How do you work it?”
I stared at the bowl with cooked potatoes and then at the hand mixer beside it. “Why are you making mashed potatoes from scratch?”
“Because I wanted real mashed potatoes, not those fake ones you buy to cook in the microwave.”
“Those aren’t fake, Dad.”
“They also are not homemade. Now, are you going to help me or not?”
I rolled my eyes and stepped around the small island. “Well, you need to add some milk, butter, and salt and pepper to the potatoes and then mix them until they are smooth.”
He held up the mixer. “How does this work?”
I studied him for a moment. Was he losing his mind? Or was something else going on? “Dad, you need to plug it in.” I moved the bowl to the other counter and plugged in the cord.
He shook his head. “You must think I’m daft.”
“Well, I do wonder if you are alright,” I admitted.
“Yes, I’m fine. Just a little nervous, I guess.”
“Nervous? What do you have to be nervous about?”
He looked at me, and his gaze shot past me to the table. I followed his line of sight and noticed two place settings. “Who is coming to dinner?”
“No one.”
“You pretending that someone is eating with you?” I crossed my arms over my chest. “Maybe I do have cause to worry.”
“No, I have a guest coming.”
“Who is this guest?”
“A friend.”
“Dad.” I tried to keep the smile off my face. “Is this friend a woman?”
He glared at the bowl of potatoes. “It might be.”
I laughed. “That’s great, Dad. I’m glad you are dating again.”
His face snapped to mine, and fear crossed his features. “It’s not a date! How could you think I would be dating so soon after your mother’s death?”
I put my hand on his arm. “Daddy, it’s okay for you to have a life and find someone you enjoy spending time with. Mom would understand. You do not have to spend the rest of your life alone. I think this is great.”
He frowned. “You aren’t upset?”
I shook my head. “No, I’m not, and neither will my siblings be. We want you to be happy, Dad. Go on as many dates as you want and find someone who makes you want to live again.”
He immediately looked relieved, and I gave him a big hug. Then I showed him how to do the potatoes and told him I had to rush out because I was already late for my appointment.
Mrs. Carnegie completely understood my tardiness once I told her my father had needed my last-minute help, and I was able to wrap up their appointment in record time.
On my way home, I called Cara. “Hey, what’s going on back at home?”
“What makes you think something is going on?” I asked her.
“Because you only call me when you have juicy news to share.” She replied with glee in her voice.
