Page 6 of A Daddy to Love

After closing my laptop, I wandered the house again, this time more dejected than dreamy. I sat at my huge dining table where I was served the excellent spaghetti I’d asked the cooks for, watching the sunset through my west-facing sliding glass windows. A sense of loneliness overtook me. Even with that view, the money, the house, the great staff who took care of me, I was alone.

Not trusting others because of the wealth had been normalized for me. But after last night, I was adrift. Seeing the darkness gather over the fading light and the first stars begin to dance, a restlessness came over me.

I jumped up before dessert was served.

Sorel, who had been walking by, observed. “No ice cream tonight? Are you sure you’re well?”

“I’m going out again.”

“I’ll call Donny.” Donny was the house chauffeur.

“Nope. I’ll drive.” I didn’t want anyone to see me drive up in Grandfather’s limo. It might get me attention, but all the wrong kind. But he didn’t need to know that if he didn’t already suspect.

“How’s that new car behaving?” Sorel asked.

“Great. I love it.”

It was a top-of-the-line BMW, sleek but small so as not to be too ostentatious, although the interior was all cream leather with every bell and whistle I could cram into it. But unless I gave somebody a ride, no one would ever know.

I had plastic toys of all kinds lined up on the dash, and fuzzy bunnies, ducks and bears peeking out the back window. At a glance, people might think it was a family sedan: Mom, Dad and kids. But it was just little old me.

I dressed for the night in a purple sequined t-shirt and pink shorts. I wore my yellow flowered socks and loafers that lit up when I walked. I didn’t know what the heck to do with my hair. It was a plain golden-brown color, and straight, so it looked fine left loose.

It was a little chilly outside, so I grabbed my fuzzy lime green vest. Then I looked around for tonight’s toy. My special guest ended up being Pinkster, the cat I’d been tossing earlier.

I drove back to the San Francisco Bar, anxious that it was the wrong move. If Truce was so popular, he could be at any bar. Or none. But my mind had formed an outrageous plan to go back as many times as it took to see him again. I had the free time and, hey, at least I had a goal. But beyond glimpsing him again, my plan fizzled on how to actually meet him.

When I walked in, the place was packed. And loud. Like last night, eyes followed me. I was a colorful mess, after all. But no one stole my focus. I was only hoping to see one man.

Several men offered to buy me drinks, commenting on my stuffed cat or my vest. I always said thank you but declined. I could’ve bought the entire house drinks and never notice the price, but no one knew that. I wasn’t being a Scrooge; I wanted anonymity. And I hadn’t come to drink.

For a while, I watched the sea of cute guys of all ages dancing. I searched their faces for Truce. But he wasn’t there. A tap on my shoulder made me jump.

“You came back?” Kimmie grinned. Tonight the tips of his hair were dyed green and wore a headband with devil horns on it. Beneath blue overalls he wore no shirt. Super cute.

“Hi. Yeah. I decided to come back.”

“Restless?”

“I guess.” I didn’t want to say anything about Truce. I didn’t know whether I was embarrassed or afraid Kimmie would laugh at me.

“Me, too. It can be boring to be single for too long.”

I had no reply to that. I’d been single my whole life.

Kimmie led us toward a small table and we sat. As we talked more, we had to yell over the loud music to be heard. Soon, a well-muscled guy asked Kimmie to dance and I was alone. A couple of offers to dance came my way but I squirmed with discomfort as I shook my head no.

If only there was some space I could find where I could hide myself but still view the whole bar. If Truce walked in, I wanted to see but not be seen. Pathetic, I knew, and I remained seated trying to act normal.

And then it happened. At first it was just a tumble of voices coming in a rush through the room. But it got louder and a crowd formed as if coming up from the floor right near the door. At that moment, I heard the chant of a name.

“Truce. Truce.”

My heart revved up. I couldn’t see him for the crowd but I stayed put. I wasn’t one of them. Not important. Not known. Not a follower.

Pinkster sat on the table in front of me beside a glass of Coke. Even though I’d been eyed by men and asked to dance, I felt like an imposter. What would I do if I even snagged a date? I wouldn’t bring them home, that was for sure.

Nope, this had been a mistake. What was I doing here? Inside, my body trembled.