20 Questions

Chapter 70

Hunter

Spending time with Jenna's dad has been better than I could have ever expected. He is so much like her...kind, intelligent, hysterical and easy to talk to. He is hands down the funniest dude I have ever met. It's no wonder that they are best friends. I never had a real father so having him in my life now is pretty damn incredible. I look forward to all things he could teach me about Jenna, about marriage, about being a man...really about life in general. He's been an amazing role model for Jenna and I could easily see him doing the same for me.

I take him to the sports memorabilia store first because I need a little more time before I have the serious talk with him. I don't know what I would do if he didn't give me his blessing to marry Jenna. I can't wait any longer. I want her to be my wife, like, yesterday. She is the greatest thing that has ever happened to me and I don't want to waste another day without her.

I find out that he is a huge Colts fan and, much like his daughter, has a soft spot for Peyton Manning. We banter about our Indiana versus Kentucky rivalry, but it's not hostile, it's all in good fun. Neither one of us purchase anything, but it was a good time just walking around, checking out the merchandise and talking sports. I never had a father to talk sports with or honestly, talk anything with. I'm envious, but not resentful, that Jenna grew up with a father who actually wanted a child and parented them with unconditional love and respect.

On the drive to the restaurant, my nerves are getting the best of me. Walking around the store was easy and the conversation was light, but Jenna is the most important person in my life and I don't want to mess this up. By the time we enter the restaurant, my stomach feels like it is being attacked by killer bees and I am on the verge of vomiting. Jenna is my lifeline, my rock and always knows how to settle me down, but she's not here. I take a couple deep breaths as we take our seats at the table.

"Hunter, is something wrong?" Rich asks as he slides in the booth across from me.

I take a couple deep breaths and pray I don't pass out in the middle of this restaurant. I'm not sure how I am going to get this out, but I must. If I want to marry the most beautiful person on the planet, I have to man up and get my words out. I need a beer, or ten. Maybe a sturdier set of balls.

I stand up and tell Rich that I need to go to the restroom. I ask him to get me a beer when the server comes. I stop by the bar and order two shots of whiskey. I shoot them down quickly and pray they take effect before I go back. I stalk into the bathroom and splash cold water on my face. I can barely get the paper towel out of the dispenser because my hands are shaking so badly. The damn paper towel gets stuck and despite jamming my fingers inside and cussing it like it has personally offended me, it remains permanently lodged inside the fucking dispenser.

"Come on, you little piece of shit. This is the last thing I need right now. Just come on out. Just come to Daddy."

"Everything ok in here?" a voice behind me says.

Well shit.

I'd been so focused on getting the paper towel out that I hadn't even noticed another dude come in. Now I stand here, red-faced and sweating, looking like a paranoid schizophrenic giving the paper towel dispenser a rectal exam. And I wasn't just mid-finger deep in it, I was talking dirty to it like I was coaxing some chic into a hand job.

My life is awesome.

"Uh, yeah. The paper towel got stuck in here. I need to dry my hands."

"Not sure it's worth losing a finger over. Next time, maybe just use your pants."

"I'll keep that in mind," I deadpan before he turns on his heel and chooses a stall.