Reduced to Ruin

Chapter 6

I woke up feeling wonderful. Drowsy, yet refreshed. Nothing a strong cup of Jo couldn't remedy.

I was thinking how wonderful my day was going to be. Every Saturday I volunteered at Morgan's Hope, a local foster home for teen mothers and mothers-to-be. I enjoyed working with those girls and their babies. I knew the teen moms appreciated me, but little did they know how much they helped me even more.

After working at Morgan's Hope for most of the day, I decided to stop by my dad's house. He lived about thirty minutes from my apartment, but he was just a few minutes from the foster home. He still lived in the same house I grew up in. After my mom died, I always thought he would want to sell it and downsize, maybe move closer to the beach or to a more hip community for widows and widowers. After all, he was only fifty-nine years old and a good-looking guy for his age. But I sensed the house was the last connection he shared with my mother. He wasn't about to let that go.

Since my mom's passing, I'd been very protective of my dad. He was all I had left. I didn't have any siblings, either, just a few cousins and aunts and uncles scattered around California.

I knocked on the front door and could see my dad approaching through the leaded glass window.

"Honey!" he exclaimed as he swung open the door.

There he stood in a suit and tie, his hair slicked back by a bit of gel. He was more of a sweatpants and t-shirt kind of guy, so I was surprised by his appearance and cheery tone.

"Dad!" I entered and gave him a quick hug. I looked him up and down. "Look at you. You look so handsome. What's the occasion?"

He closed the door, and we headed toward the kitchen, our usual hangout spot.

"Well, actually, uh, I have a date. Sort of."

He sensed my shock. "Well, not really a date. More like two friends going out for coffee."

"I don't know the last time I got all dressed up for a cup of coffee."

"Well, no, I guess not. But she is a special lady."

He made little eye contact with me and kept fumbling with his coat buttons. I knew one day my dad could date again, but I never expected it so soon. It had been only two years, and that still seemed too early. But then again, what was the appropriate mourning period?

"I'm happy for you, Dad. Really, I am." I tried to muster up as much sincerity as I could, blinking back my tears, and patted him on the shoulder for reassurance. Surely, this was an Oscar-worthy performance.

I cleared my throat and swallowed my sorrow. "So, who is she? Give me the scoop."

"Oh, you know. She's just a gal I met at the gym."

"The gym? I didn't know you joined a gym."

Who was this man standing in front of me?

"Yeah, about a month ago. I figure I'm not getting any younger, and the doc says I need to get my cholesterol down, maybe lose this gut of mine." He patted his belly with both of his hands, like Santa Claus.

"Good for you, Dad. I'm proud of you. That's great."

"Are you really okay with me starting to date, Corrine? I mean, it's understandable if you're not."

Doubt was in his voice; he so badly yearned for affirmation from me.

"Of course I am, Dad. I want you to be happy."

"You know . . . I loved your mom very much. And I always will. There's no doubt about that. But I know she would want me to be happy and go on with my life."