“Can you please set the table, Dad?”

“Sure thing, honey. Dinner smells amazing.”

I smiled proudly as I turned back to the stove. I was very confident in my cooking because I only liked to eat nice things, and I didn’t go out to each much, so everything I made had to be amazing.

After Dad set two places on the table fit for five, I served and carried the food over. Dad sat at the head of the table, and I took the seat to his left. We both ignored the seat directly in front of me and to his right that had been empty for a while now.

“Go ahead and serve,” I offered, waiting for him.

He rubbed his hands, grinning as he eyed the dishes on the table.

“It also looks amazing; I don’t know what to start with first.”

I smiled as I watched him fill his plate. Ever since Mom died, Dad had been lonely. I tried to spend as much time with him as I could, especially since he was the only person that I still had contact with outside of the university. I hadn't made any new friends yet, and I didn’t have other relatives. The people at the university were friendly, but I didn’t think we were close enough to be hanging out outside of work yet.

It was somewhat pathetic that the only chance I had to spend around someone else outside of work was dinner with my dad.

I pushed those thoughts aside to worry about other problems.

“Did you know?” Dad started. “I went to a function at my old college last month. It’s hard to think just how many years have passed since then, nearly three decades! I met this girl that used to be in the same class as me; she was so bright back then and she caught my eye.” He sighed. “She was such a beauty but had a boyfriend back then. She’s widowed now, I think I’ve fallen in love again.”

I knew he was talking, but I wasn’t listening to what he was saying. Dad didn’t look at me, either, like he was just speaking out loud to himself, so I didn’t pay attention, either. Instead, I was busy thinking about what to do with Ben.

Maybe it would bring unnecessary trouble onto myself, but I didn’t want to deal with his shit, so even if there were repercussions, I had to knock that kid down a peg. Ever since the last time that he walked out of my class, I couldn’t help but think about him at the oddest times, and I got irritated every time I did.

Aside from Ben, I’d been thinking about the mystery man I’d been sexting with recently. He’d sent me a message that surprised me. He wanted to meet up, so I wondered if he’d finally figured out he’d been texting the wrong number. I was cautious about it, but I was also curious.

Who could it possibly be?

So far, all I knew was that they were someone in the same area. It might have even been a prank all along. I couldn’t even say for sure if it was a guy or not, or their age. I hadn’t asked for the details, because there wouldn’t be a way for me to confirm it unless I met them face to face, and what if they asked about my details, too? I didn’t want to tell some stranger all about my life. I wasn’t that lonely yet.

He’d asked to meet, and I’d tentatively agreed. I hadn't received another text from him, since then, though.

Then, my phone vibrated in my pocket.

I startled, surprised. I was in casual clothes today, and I’d decided to wear jeans, so I could keep the phone in my pocket. I quickly pulled it out and checked under the table. The text was from my mystery man.

“I’m going to be getting married again.”

I blinked and looked up at Dad. My mind was preoccupied, but this statement caught my attention.

“Getting married again?” I repeated in surprise, distractedly putting my phone away. “What do you mean?”

Since Mom’s death, I’d wondered if he’d meet someone new, but Dad had never mentioned remarrying, so it was a shock for him to say it now. Not that he was too old, or anything. He and Mom were young when they had me, so while I was in my mid-thirties, Dad wasn’t too old at fifty-four.

He chuckled. “Yes, married. It’s only been a month since we met again, but we both feel it’s the right thing for us. After all, neither of us is young anymore.”

“Why so soon, though?” I asked. “You still have a lot of years in you, Dad. How can you know you’d want to be with this woman for the rest of your life after one month?”

I dated Stuart for a couple of years before the actual wedding, and I regretted it in the end.

“I know,” Dad said. “I didn’t pursue anything with her back then because I had your mom and she had a boyfriend. It was nothing more than a moment of interest that quickly disappeared. I don’t regret marrying your mother, nothing can replace the years I spent with her, but I’m not going to let this opportunity at happiness go again.”

Finally, he looked at me, and the light in his eyes was something I hadn't seen in a long time. His gaze wandered away quickly, but I didn’t mind. Dad and I had always been awkward. It was fine when there was Mom between us, but now that she was gone, it was always there. There were times I didn’t know how to talk to him, and when I visited, we would spend the entire time in silence, besides a few words like ‘dinner is ready,’ or ‘please pass the salt’ at the table.

“Fine, I guess,” I murmured.

I wasn’t interested, not really, though I had been surprised for a moment. I’d spent my life trying to get my dad’s attention, but at thirty-five, I was far past that phase. I never really got it before. The whole reason I even became a business professor was to please him, and I hated the job. I did love my dad, he was my only remaining family, and I would worry if something happened to him, but we might as well live separate lives.

“Listen, Angela,” he said, turning to me with a serious expression. “I know I wasn’t always there for you like I should have been as your dad. Especially after your mother died. But even though I’m remarrying now, I still want us to be close. I know… it’s what your mom would want, and you are my only daughter. If I ever made you feel like I didn’t care for you, I’m sorry.”

I looked down, his intent gaze only made me feel more awkward.

Of course, I knew he cared for me. He’d just always cared more for Mom. When she passed away, he practically closed himself off. He still contacted me to come home and spend time with him sometimes, and I’d been doing it more often after the divorce. I didn’t think it would be a simple thing to close the distance between us, but if he was willing to try, then I wasn’t going to say no.

I’d always been closer to Mom, and it had caught us both completely off guard when she died. I didn’t want to have any regrets when Dad left me, too.

“That’s fine, Dad,” I said, clearing my throat. I looked up and smiled. “So, when are you guys getting married?”

His expression softened. “In about six weeks, we’re still working through some things, so I can't give you a specific date. Will you come?”

“Sure, Dad.”

He was holding an olive branch out to me for the first time in decades; I wasn’t going to say no. Besides, I was truly curious about who this woman was. Dad had only ever had such a soft expression when it came to Mom, even when it was me, he’d face me with a stern look no matter what.