The Father

Chapter 1

It's sweltering despite the fact that I am sitting in the shade. Even with my shirt off, no socks or shoes, and wearing only a pair of swim trunks, I am fucking sweating.

I glance at my watch and sigh. It's almost two o'clock.

"Has anyone talked to him? Where is he?"

Lena smiles.

"He'll be here any minute."

"It's my birthday," I say, pretending to sulk. "Late to his own fathers birthday. I oughta take him over my knee."

I wave my hand as if I'm spanking someone and everyone laughs. Truthfully, I just want to get this over with. I'm turning fifty-two today. Birthdays are just another day for me, though Lena hates when I say that.

The sound of a car door slamming shut prompts me to look toward the gate, where Maxwell is coming through a moment later, and with him is the girl he's been telling us about the last week or so.

"Sorry we're late. Traffic was killer. You know how it is."

I wave it away as he comes to me, stand, and he hugs me hard.

"Happy birthday, dad."

I tell him thank you quietly, ruffle his hair, and as I pull away I look to her, hold out a hand, and she shakes it.

"It's nice to finally meet you. Maxwell has been going on and on about you."

He rolls his eyes and I grin.

"Don't you remember me, Mr. Byrne?"

I furrow my brow and as I stare at her it hits me.

"Katherine? Little Katherine?"

She laughs loudly, along with Maxwell. He's mentioned her name once or twice, but I didn't even think about her.

"We didn't know if you would remember me."

"I'm an old man now, so I'm surprised I did. Christ, what's it been, eleven years?"

"Yes, something like that."

I definitely remember her and I think it's the hair that threw me off. She used to have the whitest, blondest hair, and I can't imagine why she'd ever dye it. Maybe it's not surprising. I've always thought Trish had the prettiest shade of brown and right now she's on color number three that she's dyed her hair so far, which is a dark blue.

Everyone seems eager to meet her and she's very polite and courteous. I'm sure Lena doesn't like the outfit she's wearing, but I imagine Maxwell more than enjoys it. A beige halter top with a bathing suit underneath, I can see the red string tied at the back of her neck, high waisted jean short, and Doc Marten boots. The get up goes well with her tattoos. A sleeve covers her right arm and I'm surprised that each tattoo is from The Wall by Pink Floyd.

That is one of my favorite albums.

Her other arm has tattoos scattered, one of her legs is completely covered, and there's a rather large one on her left thigh. She makes me think of a punk rock chick and without the tattoos, she reminds me of a girl I dated over thirty years ago, when I was barely eighteen. That was long before I met Lena, nearly twelve years.

And now I'm watching her from afar as Maxwell introduces her to Trish and her friends. They're talking animatedly and I think Trish compliments her outfit, which is something she wouldn't be allowed to wear out of the house, even though most of her friends are dressed the same way today.

She says something about the pool and as they all walk toward it, she pulls her top off. I look away quickly. That's not something I need to take a lingering look at and I begin to converse with Lena's father.