My best friend’s dad

I have returned home for the first time in four years. My parents were delighted to see me, but I could sense that neither of them, especially my dad has forgiven me for breaking my word and not coming home after a year in Europe. How could I explain it to them, though? They would never understand. Their honeymoon in Mexico and mom’s second one in Italy with George was the peak of sophistication as far as they were concerned. To completely abandon ones entire family and friends only to live out of a suitcase and be a stranger wherever one went was beyond their comprehension.

They enjoyed my tales of old towns and cities in England and Greece, small villages in Scotland and Ireland and my mom even found Morocco to be more than just a hellhole on the map; still, I don’t believe I quite persuaded them of the intoxication one experiences when one leaves a small, oppressive, ‘friendly’ town and heads out into the big wide world.

They also failed to understand how I could have returned to the States and heading for Chicago, enrolling in college there rather than somewhere closer to home. As far as they are concerned, we’re talking about another hellhole on the map.

They have been taking turns keeping their eyes on me for the past three days, after which I was finally able to make a phone call without their suspicious glances following me, as if I was just about to dash out of the house never to return.

I knew Janie’s mom had passed away about a year after I left, and occasional letters that I received from my friends in Europe have told me that things in everybody’s lives were changing very rapidly. A few months away from home I began feeling like I couldn’t catch up anymore, things have been different for all of us. I never called any of my friends in four years, occasionally mailing a postcard, just so that they would know I was still thinking of them. I don’t believe they knew quite how often they all crossed my mind.

On the third day after I returned home, I finally gathered enough courage to call Janie, somewhat surprised, but pleased that the phone number had not changed. My mom told me that after her mother’s death, Janie and her father have finally moved to a new house, which had been a plan when we were still in high school.

“Hey!” was all I said and Janie screamed in delight. It felt good to be remembered so well.

She was so happy I called. What? I was at home? Oh my god, now she was really happy! She doesn’t have time to talk; she is on her way out the door as we speak. She is sitting for an exam, a really hard one, so she shouldn’t be late. Yeah, college is a drag, but it’s not all that bad really. She should be back in the afternoon. I absolutely have to come and we’ll go out and find other girls. But she’ll be back at four and do I know where she lives now? Yeah, I should come by exactly at four and we’ll hang out. And by the way, she’s pissed at me for not keeping in touch, but she’s very happy I called!

The avalanche of words seized as I hung up, memories of the past slowly creeping into my head. We had some good times together. I was glad I was about to see her again.

I made a few more calls to my old friends, but just like Janie, most of them were at colleges or their summer jobs and I didn’t get to talk to anyone else. The time seemed to slow down that day and I found myself antsy with anticipation of meeting my best friend again.

She showed me around her new home, which is absolutely amazing. Her dad, an architect, has decorated the entire place himself and the effect is astonishing. Unbelievable colors on the walls, furniture of unconventional shapes and sizes, abstract paintings, bowls of fruit, flowers and plants everywhere – her home looks like something out of a magazine. I have to admit I felt a bit envious at one point. Then, I remembered which town this beautiful home is in and my envy evaporated. No matter how stunning the house, I wouldn’t want to live here again.

As I sat in Janie’s bedroom, watching TV while she was taking a shower I was startled by a sudden appearance of her dad in the door. I didn’t hear him enter the house; his steps drowned by the running water in the attached bathroom and the TV sounds.

“Hello!” I said and he smiled. Still the same Mr. Davey I remembered. No grayness to be seen in his dirty blond hair, tall and sporty, his eyes full of mischief. When we were kids, Janie’s dad was the most fun of all our parents. He was always late bringing everybody home after soccer practices, having taken us to the local ice-cream parlor. He always cheered the loudest at our games, laughed the hardest at our jokes and tales of childish escapades. He dressed the coolest and listened to the same music as we did, never minding the loud volume, which would have made any other parent delicately point out that the neighbors will complain and would we please turn it down. Still the same, handsome Janie’s dad. I have always suspected most of her friends, including myself, have had a secret crush on him. Of course, we couldn’t discuss something like that in her presence. Danielle and I have had a few heart-to-heart talks, though.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” He said and walked into the bedroom. “Nikkie?”

“Yes,” I smiled and he approached me, offering his hand in greeting.

“When did you come back?” he asked and sat down on the bed next to me, very predictably smelling of the most intoxicating cologne a man could find.

We chatted for a while and I found myself staring into his eyes, trying to see him as Janie’s dad, a guy who used to make sure I only got chocolate ice cream, no sprinkles or nuts, exactly as I liked it.

“You look good, Nikkie.” He said and my thoughts of him being my friend’s dad went out the window.

“You do, too, Mr. Davey.” I said and returned a top to bottom stare that he had just given me, nodding my head. I couldn’t believe I just did a little flirt.

“Oh, please. Sean, just call me Sean.”

The water in the bathroom stopped running and we could hear banging of the shower door as Janie was coming out to dry herself off.

“I’m in here, Janie!” yelled Sean towards the bathroom. “So, come out decent.”

Just before Janie re-entered the room, her dad got up and walked to the desk beneath the window, leaning against it, smiling at his daughter as she came into view. He asked her about her exam and she told him that we were just about to go out and meet with other girls. He insisted that he would fix us a quick dinner first; he was starving and did not want to eat alone.