Chickening
Pt 2/2

Andy's Saturday was a total let-down. He was loath to admit that, especially since his daughter had wanted to stop by at his for a private lunch or brunch or whatever it was better called. He had gone to bed angry and alone and woken up even more alone, but rather hurt than plain angry. How dare she trivialize their relationship!

The problem was, he really thought they were moving towards something. Even if not, they had a good relationship. All the difficult things they already had right: unity, trust, respect. Well, generally right, but right nevertheless.

However, he was showed to his place with a pitying laugh and thanks of friendship. Garnished with a stamp of 'casual'.

And she dared to marginalize it all down to him wanting to get laid! He regretted not asking if she would like to help out with that, seeing that he obviously was so lacking and in such a need, but suspected she would have slapped him. After all, she wanted him to stop flirting with her. A head-on proposition might have been a whole county past of her precious lines.

And what were all those mentions of Jack again? If she was so hung up on him, she should go take her dearest hubby to bed instead of court. Oh, but maybe him not being so easily taken was the whole reason for their ailing relationship. One more thing he could have mentioned.

And he especially disliked the way her eyes had drifted to his lips before she walked away. He used to think it sweet, a good sign for him, but now he saw the error of his ways. Sure as hell he wasn't going to be that friend who ended up being a rebound guy for a fragile divorcée.

Oh, sure he understood all the complications and obstacles in their way were they look to move ahead, but that didn't matter to him. They could discuss it, work it out, bounce solutions and ideas like they did in regards to everything else. Everything could be solved if you wanted it enough.

But oh no, she said stop, back off and forget it.

Damn it, damn the woman! He was through.

The basket of fresh bread he brought to the table bounced with the force of his thoughts seeking escape. Luckily his daughter was busy with a stubborn string of tagliatelle.

They had eaten the majority of their lunch (yeah, he had given up on the conundrum between brunch and lunch and just made her pasta, bread, salad and plenty of everything) in silence, but it hadn't felt uncomfortable. Not as comfortable as it did when Sharon was —

"No!"

"Dad?"

"Huh? Sorry. Just remembered I forgot to use a bunch of basil that's not going to keep."

"You can always make a packed lunch for yourself and Sharon. I'm sure she would appreciate it."

Probably, but at the moment, he was definitely not going to do anything on that basis.

"So, what time are you and Sharon coming?"

"Huh?"

"The 'Back to School' party tomorrow. You promised to let me know when you're coming."

"Ah. About that..."

It had totally slipped his mind. In his wildest dreams tonight he would have brought up moving to date for real, she would have laughed and smiled and nodded a yes, perhaps even kissed him. Tomorrow, they would have gone to the party happily as a real couple. After tomorrow, they would have gone everywhere as a real couple.

However, their relationship was — what did she call it? — a sham without all the good bits. So, what was the point of keeping the less-good bits?

"I think Sharon might not be able to make it. But I'll come. At one?"

He heard the unfortunate potential and knew for sure she was going to latch on it, even if he tried to act nonchalant. Admit nothing, never.

"'Might'. Why haven't you asked her!"

"Well —"

"Dad! It's tomorrow. You can't ask a lady out this last minute."

"Yeah. Well."

"No." Nicole stared at him like he had just broken her favorite doll in front of her eyes. "No. You are not telling me you've broken up!"

"Sweetheart, we never were together to break up."

See? he heard Sharon laughing in his ears, Not hard at all to come clean.

He shook his head to clear the memory of the sound, and the soft touch of her hand on his arm.

Nicole, for her part, shook her head in unhearing horror.

"No. You need to go and fix this. Talk to her. Apologize. Beg."

"Honey, don't worry about it."

"Dad. You go and apologize to her or I'm never talking to you again. Never."

Andy watched his daughter in that mixture of hurt and anger he knew would soon moisten her eyes. It took him by surprise, rendering his brain and speech limited.

"Nic," he said laying a hand on hers, "what does it matter? She is just a friend. And what makes you think it's me who should apologize to her?"

Her look turned cold, doubting.

"What did she do?"

"Nothing." Like hell was he going to spill his hurt over her uncharacteristic insensitivity to his daughter. Better make her doubt him than delve in the mess or invent a story about Sharon's misdeeds. "We are still friends," he reiterated standing up and gathering the empty dishes. "Do you want pie?"

"No! You talk it out. Forgive her. Try again. Do something!"

Andy sighed and ridding his hands from the dishes, placed them on his hips.

"I have other friends. And Sharon and I, we are still friends. I'm saying she might not want to make it tomorrow, but you will see her again. If you want, you can call her, I'm sure she'd love to hear from you."

The promises and explanations weren't placating her or erasing the pointed, stern look she had adopted.

"Dad. Fix this. Now."

Stubborn seemed to be how he liked his women. Sighing again, he went to get his phone from the sideboard.

There was no way on God's green Earth he was going to talk to Sharon, especially in front of his daughter. When he talked to her next, it was going to be in private. How he managed that, remained to be seen.

So, he texted her the question. No pleasantries, no jokes, no nothing else. One step above breaking up with someone via text message, but one step was a step.

Theatrically he pushed the 'send' button to humor his daughter.

"Pie?"

His daughter only scowled at him. What was she, eleven?

Come to think of it, she acted like all of eleven with divorced parents who fought constantly and a mother who wanted to move her across the state where she would never see any of the people she had ever met. Oh yes, she was back to eleven.

The atmosphere was turning northern and the silence harrowing. The looks were bordering on staring matches.

The pling of his cell was a welcome interruption.

"She'll come."

"You're lying."

"Here." He turned the device towards Nicole and read the message aloud for further proof. "'Of course I will. See you tomorrow.'"

"I don't want you two there fighting."

"We are not fighting, Nicole."

"Then what? You are great together and now you don't even want to see her."

Resigned, Andy sighed and took his seat again.

"Trouble is, I want to see her a little too much. More. Too often."

"And she has another?"

"No." Jack he didn't bother to count as anything, but other than that... Could he be sure? "At least I don't think she has." Trying to get out of the 'you're fighting' circle, Andy thought to offer Nicole a bit more information in the hopes it would make her drop the issue for good. "We both said stupid things and it's better this way. Staying friends is just fine."

"Yeah, fine like no dessert."

The distaste in her tone made Andy tilt his head and scoff sarcastically.

"So now you want that pie, right?"

"Don't you?" she countered without the mirth.