Father of the Bride

As Time Goes Bye

After that morning and every morning after that Daryn evolved. He found everything about him fascinating and beyond his keen. He likened himself as some angelic voyeur peering down from on high, wrapped in a warm pink fluffy cloud, which looked and tasted something like cotton candy.

He lost all interest in his own friends and hobbies. He even forgot about his perennial search for a career that suited his peculiar gifts and temperament.

"Hello, Robertson residence," Daryn smiled into the telephone almost exactly one month later.

"You're back!" Some schoolgirl smiled back.

"Who is this?"

"Vicky you dunce. Anyway you've just got to hear what's happened between Mathew and I.

Whoever this Vicky was she was both licentious and a chatterbox. Not that Daryn didn't find every syllable wondrous if a little embarrassing and eye-opening.

Whenever possible he'd interject random, you-don't-says, good-for-yous, and serves-him-rights.

"I'm sorry," he finally admitted, pitching his voice as low as it could go. "But I'm afraid Amelia is not here."

"She's not. Then who is this?"

"This is Daryn, her father."

"Wow! Amelia is right. You are wonderful to talk to."

"Thanks. Anyway for what it's worth. Mathew sounds like a complete jerk. I'm sure someone as beautiful and intelligent as you are, can do better than that loser."

"You're right. Bye."

"Girls," Daryn said, reluctantly putting the telephone into its cradle.