Page 69 of Truth or More Truth
“Feet off or shoes off. You pick.”
“You want me to take my feet off?” She raises an eyebrow and gives me a look. If you’ve ever met a teenager, you know the one.
“You know what I mean.” I sit next to her, make a show of taking off my shoes, and then put my socked feet on the coffee table.
“Don’t change the subject.” She pokes my side, where she knows I’m ticklish, and I swat her hand away.
“There wasn’t a subject.”
“There was, and her name is Melissa.” Kelli kicks her shoes off and then rests her head against my shoulder. “I think you should call her right now.”
“With you as an audience? I don’t think so.”
“I’m gonna be with you for the next twenty-four hours—and a lot more after that—so I don’t think you have a choice. I haven’t met Wendy, but something tells me she’ll follow through on her threat.”
I cup my hand around my ear. “What’s that? Do I hear Whitley telling her mom she wants you to come over tonight?”
My daughter pokes me again. “Don’t be silly. Be serious and call your cup of tea.”
“You really think I should try to date someone who lives in Chicago?” Why am I asking a thirteen-year-old for dating advice?
“I do. You don’t know that it can’t work out. And yeah, you’re a busy man, but I mean, aren’t you old enough to retire already?” The tone of her voice tells me she’s only partly joking.
When Kelli has mentioned this in the past, I’ve brushed it off. I’m still a few years from forty—not nearly old enough to retire, though I could financially afford to stop working today, and I’d never have to worry about having enough money for myself,Kelli, and Nanette. My daughter’s mother may be my ex-wife, but she may never be able to work full-time again, and I’ve vowed to myself I’ll take care of her financially for the rest of her life if necessary.
“You know I’d go crazy if I weren’t working,” I say.
My daughter sits up straight and turns to face me. “Yeah, but you could spend soooo much more time with me. You could coach my soccer team and take me to and from school and math club and stuff.” She grabs my hand. “Maybe you could work part-time. Like only have Uncle Diego as a client, and get rid of those other guys that cause you so much trouble and take you away from me. Then your work would only take you to Chicago, because Uncle Diego told me he wants to play there until he retires. And since that’s where Melissa lives, that’s perfect!”
Kelli makes some compelling points. I would love to spend more time with her, especially since somehow we only have five and a half more years until she goes to college. And with my workload where it currently is, I don’t have much time to spend with her or any worthwhile amount to spend with Melissa. Also, what I said to Melissa about not wanting to keep working in the way I have in the past is true. I need to make a change not only in the way I work but also the amount I work, but I don’t know that retirement is the answer.
However, there’s at least one thing Kelli hasn’t thought about. “Yeah, but that doesn’t solve the problem of me needing to live here and Melissa needing to live there.”
She falls back against the couch cushions. “You’re right. But you need to at least try, right? Maybe you can figure something out. You won’t know unless you try.” She hugs my arm and bats her eyelashes at me. “Please, Daddy? Please call her. I can tell you really like her.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah. You’ve never talked about a woman in front of me before. For all I know, you’ve never been on a date with anyone since you and Mom divorced a thousand years ago.”
I’ve been on dates, but not with anyone I wanted to see more than a time or two. Melissa, though? I want to see her many, manytimes. And everyone is right. I can’t make this decision on my own. I owe it to Melissa to let her decide what she wants once she knows everything. But there’s one more thing I need to make sure of before I start anything with her.
“You really wouldn’t mind me dating someone?” I’m already not able to spend as much time with Kelli as either of us would like. Dating would mean spending even less time with her.
“You care if I mind?” she asks.
I look down into her brown eyes. “Of course I mind. You’re the most important person in my life, and if I date, you’d have to share me with someone else.”
“I already share you with your clients,” she says, not realizing how that pierces my heart.
“I’ll think about cutting back on work, all right? But that’s different. This is someone I might potentially love, get engaged to, and marry. She could someday be your step-mom. How do you feel about that?”
“I feel like you deserve to have somebody to love who loves you back. But …”
“But what?” I prompt when she hesitates.
“What if I don’t like her?”
I cup her cheek in my palm. “I’m certain you’ll like Melissa, but if you don’t, then it wasn’t meant to be.” I kiss her forehead. “I’m not going to marry someone you don’t like.”
