Things I Want My Daughters to Know_ A Novel - Elizabeth Noble [106]
“That’s different. Me parent, you child. You underage minor, to be precise.”
“Gross. Anyway, stop deflecting. I want details.”
“I ate a tricolore salad, sage gnocchi, and a fabulous tiramisu…we had a bottle of their finest…”
She hit him playfully with the pillow she had been holding. “Daadd!”
“What do you expect, Hannah?” He drew out the syllables of her name, like she had done with his. “She’s a very nice woman; I liked her. The conversation flowed well enough. It was a pleasant evening.”
“That’s more like it. Pleasant is a bit of a killer word, though. Sounds like you were at some classical music concert. I’d kill a guy who described an evening with me as pleasant. Will you see her again?”
He realized that Hannah wasn’t really expecting there to have been anything else for him to confess. Of course not. She’d be shocked/disgusted/furious if she really knew, wouldn’t she? It was a first date—if a date was indeed what they were calling it—and when you were in Hannah’s world, nothing more than kissing would ever happen on one of those.
“I’m sorry that my vocabulary displeases you. Would you prefer…rocking evening, killer evening? Sick evening?”
“Good vocab, Dad!” She giggled. He sounded ridiculous.
She lay back and put her head on his shoulder. She smelled of shampoo and the kind of sugary perfume that only young girls thought smelled good. “Will you go out with her again?”
He sighed, suddenly serious. “I don’t know, Han.”
“But you liked her.”
“I liked her. She’s a nice person. If I’m allowed to say ‘nice.’ But…”
“But what, Dad?”
“But I’m not sure I’m ready for all this. I’m not looking for anything….”
“You don’t have to be ‘looking for anything,’ Dad. It doesn’t have to be ‘going anywhere,’ does it?”
He squeezed her arm. “Why are you so interested, anyway?”
“I don’t want you to be sad, Dad. I want you to be happy.”
IT WAS DIFFERENT FOR HANNAH. FOR HANNAH, BARBARA HAD been gone now, for eight, nine months. Going for a couple of years before that. Her recovery time frame was different, he knew. It wasn’t less, or more, or better or worse—just different.
Maybe he was leaning on her too much. Maybe she wanted him to find someone so she could share the burden of him with someone else. He didn’t mean to be a burden, of course, but he recognized that in some ways he was. Jennifer hadn’t visited since…since what had happened last month. He hadn’t been in touch, either. He was still angry with her, still embarrassed for her. Lisa came when she could. But her and Andy’s weekends were often taken up by Cee Cee, and they both worked all week. Amanda was all wrapped up with her new bloke. Maybe it was all a bit much for Hannah, being stuck here with him all the time.
Maybe his head hurt and he couldn’t think about it anymore right now.
“You make me happy, Hannah.” He kissed the top of her head. “Tea in bed makes me happy, Hannah.” She sat up and smiled at him. He glanced at his alarm clock. “An extra hour of sleep followed by a bacon sandwich in bed would make me happier still….” She smirked. “Then this Sunday is all yours—we’ll do whatever you want…chick flicks excluded. I can’t do a chick flick today, even for you.”
She jumped up and backed toward the door. She was growing up, for sure, but there was still plenty of the bounding puppy in her.
“Can’t. I’m going out. You don’t mind, do you?”
“So the tea was to butter me up?”
“No. The tea was because you’re my daddy and I love you.” She was batting her eyelashes at him, and it made him smile.
“Hold the sugar, please.”
“So it’s okay?”
“That depends. Who, what, where, why, when?”
“God, Dad.” She was rolling her eyes at him.
“God, Hannah.” He rolled right back.
“My mates, shopping, maybe a film or a pizza, town, because, by nightfall. That thorough enough for you?”
“Don’t be sarcastic.”
“I’m just answering the questions.”
“Have you got your phone?”
“Yes, I’ve got my phone. And clean knickers and a handkerchief.”
“Again, I’m not loving the sarcasm.”
Actually, he