Chapter 5: Family Dinner

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As I took a taxi home, trying to shake the feeling of Jerry's creepiness off me, my Dad called me.

"Hey honey, have you eaten yet?"

"No, I just left work. I had....an exciting day."

"Well, Susan is cooking for me. She's inviting some of Angela's friends over, and I'd love for you to join."

Susan was my Dad's girlfriend, and also happened to be my uncle's ex wife. But Dad was happy, and I loved Susan.

"Is she a good cook?" I asked. "Is Stephanie coming, because I want to chat with her."

"I think Stephanie is coming, and Susan cooks very well."

"Ok, I am in. God, I've missed home cooked meals since..."

I almost said it, the thing I'd been trying to forget. Things had been different and lonely since Mom died. In the few weeks since dad got a girlfriend, it felt familiar. Susan was filling a void, and we weren't talking about it. I liked her, but I also felt guilty for liking her.

Immediately after I started saying my sentence I regretted it.

"Dad, I'm sorry...that was weird..."

"It's fine," Dad said. "I will always miss your mom. And having Susan in our life is bound to bring up confusing feelings. But I just try to remember that your mother wanted us to live our lives still. She told me once that after she passed, if I didn't move on after a few years, she'd haunt me."

"Oh Mom," I said wistfully. "I agree. But I'll try to avoid comparing the two women. Susan, she just reminds me of mom. Is that weird?"

"No, it doesn't have to be. I think you feel whatever you feel, and that is ok as long as you deal with issues."

"I know," I said. "Hey Dad, can I ask you a weird question that is completely unrelated?"

"Please do sweetheart," He said.

"Do you believe that monogamy is outdated?"

"I don't know what that 'Robert' guy told you, but I never liked him. And that cockamamie idea is just something men say to do whatever they want."

"It's not about Robert, it's something about a client. But thanks, you're right. That is a cockamamie idea."

"I'll see you soon honey," my Dad said.

****

I didn't change out of my work clothes, but I did apply some lipstick and pulled my frizzy hair into a ponytail. As I entered the door to my Dad's house, the smell of roasted tomatoes and garlic drifted up. Oh God, please let that be lasagna. I called out, letting them know I was there. I'd already had the tragic experience of catching my Dad getting risky recently, and I didn't want to repeat it. Susan walked into the living room, wearing an apron. Her hair was cut just above her shoulders and she didn't wear much makeup, but you could still see that she was a beautiful woman. Sure, she had wrinkles, smile lines, and a few stubborn greys peaking out above her chocolate brown coloring job, but she was lovely. Why did women, like Lucinda Del Vaughnn, prefer to inject poison into themselves than learn to be what they were: grown women. I suddenly got an image of Lucy Ravinne in twenty years, full of botox and still dressing the same, and I sighed. Maybe Robert and I were right to end it; we lived in different worlds. And in my world, I wanted to be like Susan, growing old gracefully.

"Hello Ann," Susan said. "My goodness, is it raining out there?"

"A little, but it's no big deal. It's sort of a nice change of pace, actually."

"Oh, I love to read when it rains." She said. "There's nothing like curling up with a good book and a blanket."

"Dad is the same way. He loves those Grisham novels."

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