As we walked to the tabled area, Andrew was beaming at his actions. I, on the other hand, was still very caught off guard.
"Riley Rannells, huh?" I asked mostly to myself.
"It does have a nice ring to it, doesn't it?" He added.
I, feeling as if he had been left a bit out, said, "sure does, dad." He stopped dead in his tracks.
"Okay," he admitted. "Ew."
"What do you mean ew dad? Don't you like the fact that you've been graciously blessed with me; your loving daughter?" I pushed with a smirk.
"I guess I'm just not used to it," he explained feeling defeated. "I mean not even Tuc's kids call me dad."
"What do they call you?"
"Andrew. Same as you."
"It's not that I don't want to be called Rannells, it's just a big change. Same as you going from Andrew to dad. I just need to get used to it." He nodded in agreement as the silence grew. "Would you prefer me call you Andrew or dad?" He thought about it for a moment. Well a long moment.
"I'd prefer Andrew for now I think," he finally replied. We waited nodding before he looked up. "Come on. These fries are getting cold and I see a table!"
We got seated and Andrew started to unload the now grease-stained, paper bag of it's equally greasy cargo. Not really paying attention, I caught a glimpse of the contents.
Those. Fries. Looked. amazing.
My mouth started to water.
I had seen "fries" at school. Thin, pale, limp, sticks of potato.
But those were Fries.
Perfect seasoned, beautifully breaded to a fantastic crisp. A basket of golden brown curly goodness lay before me.
"Are you drooling?" Andrew looked discussed and a little confused by my own expressions. I was quick to break my trancelike admiration of such a beautiful food, wipe my mouth, and look his way.
"Pffh...no!" I answered with a hesitation, looking at anything but the food or the man.
"We'll like I said, it's getting cold so dig in."
I paused before taking a fry up in my hand. I examined it, Careful to keep a somewhat professional demeanor, and placed it in my mouth.
My expectation ruined.
Turns out they already were cold. The crisp was satisfying but the taste was lackluster. Being a newly adopted, biologically orphaned child, however, they were better than any fried I had ever had. The burger was just as delicious looking but didn't have that toasty warm feeling you look for in a beacon cheese burger. But again, orphan, what do I know of burgers or fries.
The last to sample was the sprite. What even is it? I had no idea. I brought the straw to my lips and took a sip.
Immediately I was attacked by the bubbles. In shock, I sprayed the drink everywhere. The table, the left over wrappers, Andrew. Covered.
"What the heck!?" We both yelled in sync. Then the man started laughing uncontrollably.
"I'm so sorry!" He laughed in real remorse. "That's sprite, it's a soda. They have bubbles to make them more fun to drink, I guess!" Still laughing. " I meant to warn you but I guess I was thinking of something else." He finished just starting to calm down.
"Oh my god," was the most of what I could get out and, "I'm sorry about you outfit, will it be okay!"
"It's no problem. really. ...If your finished we should probably head back to the house. Tuc's coming over tomorrow and I have a meeting in the morning."
I'm sorry, what?
