The Porsche, The Beetle And How I Got Here

Chapter 8

"Karen!" Dad yelled as I walked the short distance from the parking lot towards the restaurant's entrance.
My arms were hanging down along my sides, to keep my dress under control in case of a breeze, but I tested my luck and waved at dad, who walked towards me and gave me a giant, bone breaking hug.
"It's so good to see you again." He told me, before holding me out in stretched arm and looking at me with a wide smile.
"Have you grown? You look taller." He said and shook me lightly.
"No dad, I'm as short as I've always been." I laughed, as he laid his arm around my shoulders and walked into Joe's, which isn't really called Joe's, but we've called it Joe's as far back as I remember, so that's what it's called in my head.

We greeted the receptionist, who then followed us to our usual spot (a small table in the corner furthest away from the toilets, and closest to the giant windows displaying London) 

"So tell me how my daughter got a job at the BBC." Dad said just as we had finished ordering. He gave me another of his wide, friendly smiles, and I noticed how old he had started to look.
His hair was starting to get grey, and as far as I could tell, it was starting to move into his beard too. And the winkles… so many new winkles!
It have been way to long since we last spend some time together, I thought sadly and got myself to send him the brightest of all smiles.

"Well I met the guys, we started talking and then BAM they offered me the job." 
"It can't have been that easy." He exclaimed and took his phone from his coat pocket. He saw that I’d noticed, and turned the phone around so I could see screen and the write letters writing “bye”, before laying the phone back into the pocket.

“I’m all yours tonight, Paul will take care of whoever calls.” He told me with a small smile. I stared at him in chock and he started laughing like crazy. Ok, listen up, I don’t think I’ve ever experienced my dad turning off his phone before, not even in the theatre!

“What’s wrong dear? Have you seen a ghost?” he joked still laughing.

“But what if someone important calls? What if something goes wrong at the firm? What if-..” he cut me of with a silent laughter.

“Good god is this what my work have done to our family? Nothing is as important as my daughter, who I by the way haven’t seen for months. I’ll take care of all the work stuff later, now I just want to figure out how my daughter is doing.”

So I told him about everything going on around me. About Rachel and David, my new job, my car needing new tires, especially if the race would ever become a thing. About the meeting I only survived because of strong coffee and Rachel’s painkillers, the tube being sucky once again and how I still considered adopting a dog or a cat or just some sort of animal that would liven up my everyday life a little bit.

Dad laughed at the last one, and told me to think about it for a little longer, or at least until I’d figured out how much time I’d end up using on Top Gear, especially if I intended to keep my job at the café, which of course was my plan! I can’t leave that job for Top Gear, it wouldn’t be right, which I of course told dad.

“Just be careful, al ´right? Don’t take too much onto your plate.” He told me with that fathery wisdom all dads have mastered. “-And talking of plates, here comes the food.” He said as a waitress gave us our food.

During dinner dad told me about how his own life was going: the firm was going great, Paul was getting divorced, Dad had stopped golfing after a weird German dude almost drove him down in a golf car and he planned to try out art as a new hobby.

“So… what about David?” dad asked as we’d finished our food.

“Again dad, we’re not dating.” I sighed and played with my blue dress.

“I know that, I figured that out years ago, why else would I let you invite him for sleepovers when you were younger?”

“Dad! Gross!”

“Hey, it was you who turned the conversation in that direction!” he laughed and took a sip of his wine. “But seriously tho, how’s David?”

“Haven’t I already told you about David?”

“Yes, but I’m worried about him.”

“Why?”

“He looked really down last I saw him.” He told me. I know that I might have made my dad sound like a workaholic and like a mean, non-family person, but that isn’t really the case.

My dad is a caring man, who would do anything for someone (or something) he loves. I remember once I was at a fine party at the firm and I was talking to Paul and he told me that my dad has two loves of his lives: me and the firm. And the common things about both me and the firm, is how both of us started out small and delicate and challenging. Dad and Paul started the firm together, and well, dad is the only family I’ve ever had, so in some ways, you could say that he has raised the both of us from toddlers to adults, I know it’s weird, but please try to understand what I mean.

But well, that wasn’t what I meant to say. My dad asked about David, and I know it might seem a bit weird for someone who doesn’t know our history, but back when David lost his parents, he lived at our place for nearly two years, until my dad helped us both getting our own flats so we could start our lives as proper adults. What that means, is that for about two years, at least, my dad was acting like a guardian or at least the kind of guardian David needed, like my dad became David´s make-pretend-dad. So with that in mind, the fact that my dad worries about David isn’t that weird, is it?

“He probably just had an off-day, he has them from time to time.” I told dad, hoping it’d somehow make him worry less. Which it did, because we quickly moved onto other subjects.

We’d just paid for the dinner and gathered our stuff, when I heard someone call out my name from somewhere behind me, so naturally I turned around, and saw Richard waving wildly with an arm around a pretty lady, who I assumed was his wife. My dad who’d also registered my name, turned around too and saw the happy looking couple.

“Is that Richard Hammond?” Dad asked blankly, so I took a light grip around his arm and went forth a few steps before I let go, knowing he followed me to meet the Hammonds.

“What are you doing here?” Richard asked as we joined them.

“Just having dinner with my dad. Dad, this is Richard, my now co-worker, I suppose? Richard, this is my dad.”

“Great to meet you. This is my wife, Mindy.” Richard said after he’d shaken dad’s hand.

“Amanda.” She told me as we shook hands, with a tight smile, I simply nodded and decided not to think anything into it.

We stood and chatted for a while, not long, but long enough for me to come to the conclusion that Richard’s wife really dislikes me, she didn’t say it in English tho, she said it in the silent way women communicate, a language in which I’m not fluent, but I know enough to draw my conclusion.

“But we’d better go, and let the two of you enjoy your evening.” I said, getting tired by all the stabbing looks I was receiving from Mrs. Hammond.

“Yeah right.” Richard mumbled and smiled slightly, while Amanda stood beside him, looking really pleased.

“Nice to meet the two of you.” Dad popped in before we turned around and left the restaurant.

We parted outside, seeing as we were going in two different directions. I told dad to call David if he was still worried and he told me that we have to do stuff like this more often, to which I agreed.

As I returned home, I slipped out of the blue dress and crawled into bed, reflecting on everything from if I should get a pet or not to why Hammond’s wife hates me. However, I never got to a conclusion before I fell asleep.