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17 - A Bar Filled With Horny Old Men.

17 - A Bar Filled With Horny Old Men.

"So you want to know where your dad has been?" Scott, one of my dad's co-workers, asks with a confused look on his face, I have clearly explained to him three other times about how I haven't seen him in a while.

"Did I not say that clear enough the first three times?" I ask, frustrated at his inability to comprehend understand what I am trying to say.

"He hasn't came in for work in a while, I thought you would know since you're his daughter and all," he says and shrugs, I guess that plan didn't work well.

"You know that we don't exactly have the closest relationship." I mumble in dismay then sigh, I guess there is no where else to check but the bar, which I'm not exactly very excited to do.

"I know, I know," he sighs then rubs his forehead and buts one hand on his waist, he does that whenever he is either stressed or thinking about something. Scott is like an open book, I can tell his emotions by his actions, and it's not because I have known him for years. Anyone around him with working eyes could read him. "Where else did you check besides here?"

"There aren't many places he would be, so I checked the bar just outside town and my grandparents house." I groan and glance at my watch. "I also checked the cemetery, there was no where else he would stumble around by himself for a long period of time."

"What about the town bar?"

"I am planning on checking their last, if he isn't there I don't know what else I could do besides go to the police about it. He has been missing since Thursday, and even then I briefly saw him for about five, ten minutes maybe."

"I better let you go then, the bar closes early on Sunday's." Scott says then smiles sympathetically, and opens his arms to embrace me in a warm hug. "I hope you find him soon, good luck."

"Thanks." I smile weakly then walk into his warm, comforting arms. "I will call you if there is any sign of him."

When I pull away from the hug I wave and walk towards the exit of the office building. My dad works in a giant office and is construction manager, honestly, I have no clue what he does it the office.

I jump into my car and quickly buckle up quickly, then pull out of the parking lot. The sooner I get to the bar, the sooner I could find him and finally go back home. Unless he isn't in the bar, then I would have to spend ages with the police being bombarded with questions. Where did you see him last? Where could he has gone? How long has he been missing? Why didn't you inform us sooner? All the not so causal questions they ask.

No matter how badly he treats me as a daughter I would never be able to hate him, he is the one who took care of me when I was little and my mom wasn't around. When I was eight and in the hospital I remember waking up to his warm, caring hand grasping mine.

Around that age I got the flu so I was stuck in the hospital for a while, and he barely left. When he did it was to shower and eat because they nurses urged him to take care of himself for me, which is why he would cave into their requests.

In the two weeks I was trapped in the hospital room we got closer; my mom couldn't be there with me because she was on a business trip in Ireland that she could't get out of, no matter how much she wanted to.

Then when I was finally released I remember his wide, joyful smile and him grasping my hand firmly as we walked back to our car, where my mom was waiting. By luck she managed to leave a day early and be there for me when I left.