On his days off Lee Dubenko typically still worked, albeit from the comfort of his home. He had intended to do just that when he settled into an over stuffed chair with his laptop around mid afternoon. He checked his email, laughed at something wholly inappropriate that his daughter had sent him and fired off a tongue in cheek response. That was as close to doing any work as he managed to come.
Sitting there in pajama pants and bare feet, he found his thoughts wandering in the direction of his dinner plans that evening and a certain young redheaded woman. Young indeed. She's probably half your age, you old letch. How would you feel if Sophie was dating someone your age? Dubenko closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the wall with a soft thud. He repeated the motion. Again. It's just dinner. Nothing wrong with getting to know your coworkers, is there? Even when they think you are cute. She's pretty cute herself: freckle faced, bright eyed and well the rest of her body isn't bad either. I sound like I'm fifteen. Sighing, Dubenko closed his laptop and wandered back upstairs to his bedroom.
He paused in front of a full-length mirror and gave himself the once over with a critical eye. He supposed the he didn't look terrible for someone nearing fifty. He stayed in relatively good shape, ate a more or less healthy diet if a little heavy on the take out and burgers, and other than being abysmally near sighted he had little to complain about.
"But am I really that attractive to someone roughly half my age?" He laughed at himself and the absurdity of the situation. Running a hand through his tangled mop of curls Dubenko walked through his room and into the adjoining bath to take a shower.
Towel around his waist, hair dripping down his back, he browsed through his closet trying to figure out what to wear. You do this every day, Lee, just grab a pair of pants and a shirt. Add a belt and shoes and you're done. While he was debating his clothing choices, Dubenko grabbed the towel from around his waist and began to dry his hair.
The sound of his phone ringing caused him to drape the towel over his shoulders and swiftly make his way across the bedroom to the phone. He hoped it was anyone but the hospital calling, but he couldn't afford to take the risk of missing a call from work regardless.
"Dubenko." His monotone greeting was anything but welcoming.
"Did I call at a bad time?" It took the doctor a moment to place the voice belonging to his dinner date.
"Chapman…Allison, no. Not at all. I was just preoccupied." He twisted the phone cord between his fingers as he spoke.
"Oh, well, I won't keep you then. I just wanted to make sure we were still on for tonight. And to see if you needed directions."
He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, still nude. He automatically stood up straighter and sucked in his gut. "Ah, no. No, I know where you live. I mean, I'm familiar with the area. I'll see you at seven?" He turned sideways, still studying his reflection from across the room. Yeah, not bad looking for a forty-six year old man, Dubenko.
"So what are you doing right now anyway?" Allison couldn't hide the curiosity in her voice.
Without thinking Dubenko blurted, "Standing here naked, dripping water all over the place."
A loud burst of laughter from the other end of the line caused him to realize what he'd just said. "I, uh, just got out of the shower and was drying my hair when the phone rang…"
More laughter on her end, "Mmm…thanks for the lovely mental images, Lee. Can't wait to see you later."
Hanging up the phone Dubenko brought his hand to his face and chuckled woefully. I am a USDA certified grade-A moron.
As he parked his car near Chapman's apartment building, Dubenko checked his hair in the rearview mirror, wondering not for the first time if he should give in and get the massive mop cut once and for all. I've worn my hair like this for years; maybe it's time for a change. Then again maybe I'd look like a completely different person with short hair. Is that such a bad thing? He adjusted his glasses and got out of the car, setting the alarm as he walked the short distance to the apartment's entrance.
Dubenko waited while Allison's roommate buzzed him into the building and opened their apartment door for him. He barely managed to get out a hello before the brunette had disappeared in a blur of fabric samples and ribbons. He fought the urge to chuckle as he heard an exasperated male voice coming from the back of the living space, "Come on Joey, does it really matter if the table cloths are white, ecru, cream or eggshell? Is there even a difference? You're killing me with this stuff, sweetheart."
"Just agree with her Andy, nod and smile. It's what I do," Allison yelled back to the hapless groom to be. She was pulling on a jacket as she walked into the living room where Dubenko was waiting. "Welcome to the madhouse. Let's get out of here before we get asked for our opinions."
"After you," Dubenko opened the door for her and once they were in the relative quiet of the hallway, looked at his date questioningly. "Are they always like that?"
"No, sometimes they're worse." She laughed at his expression before continuing. "I'm kidding, no, they are both really great people and I'm going to miss having my roommate around once they get married. Anyway, the weather's pretty nice and the restaurant is close, do you mind if we walk?"
He offered her his arm and nodded his agreement. She led him to a small quiet bistro that was several blocks away and by the way the hostess greeted her, Dubenko guessed that Allison frequented the eatery.
They opted to sit outdoors on the patio and enjoy the unusually pleasant weather for the time of year. "The pesto is to die for, but really, everything is great here," Allison remarked as Lee scanned the menu.
"Do you come here a lot, then?"
"Yeah, I'm not much of a cook. I make a mean bowl of cereal though. How about you?"
"The last time my daughter came to visit, she claimed that she was going to die of malnutrition because I don't really bother to keep much food in the house. But I can prepare more than a bowl of cereal." He smiled, remembering his daughter's overly dramatic rant about grocery shopping.
"You have a daughter?" Allison looked surprised by his admission.
"Hmm? Yes. Sophia. She's actually planning to spend Christmas here this year." Dubenko didn't offer more of an explanation as the waiter came to take their orders.
"Do you have joint custody or something? Every other weekend and alternate holidays? That's got to be rough."
"What?" Dubenko looked puzzled.
"You said your daughter would be with you for Christmas. She lives with her mother, right?"
He smiled softly. "Ah, no. Sophie's in college back east. Virginia." He wasn't sure how to broach the rest of Allison's query. He played with his napkin and stared off into space as he gathered his thoughts.
"Lee?"
"Sorry, just thinking. Sophie's mother, my wife, she died almost six years ago, Allison…I, ah, never really know how to impart that information." His voice trailed off as he looked at her across the table.
"I'm sorry, God, I feel like an ass." She looked sheepishly abashed.
"It's alright. You couldn't have known." He gave her a sympathetic smile.
"So, ah, college, huh? I wouldn't have thought that you had a daughter old enough to be…" She trailed off as Dubenko's smiled broadened.
"I'm forty-six, I assure you I'm old enough to have a nineteen year old daughter." He watched Allison's expression change from amusement to befuddlement to something he couldn't identify.
"Since we're playing the numbers game here, how old do you think I am?" She rested her chin on her fist as she waited for his answer.
"Ah, twenty-six, twenty-seven?" Inwardly he winced, having a feeling that he was way off the mark.
"Nope."
"Twenty-eight?" Sure and you're built like Brad Pitt.
"Do I seriously look twenty-eight to you?"
"No. Twenty-five?" Can you say "cradle robber," Lee?
"Guess again."
"Twenty-four?" Please say yes, dear God.
"Nuh-uh. Nice try though." She was smiling now.
"Twenty-three?" She's younger than your group of med students…way to go.
She snorted. "As of two weeks ago." She was watching him for a reaction.
You are seriously out of your mind, Dubenko. She's half your age. She could be your daughter. Why are you even contemplating this? Thoughts raced through his mind as he processed this information. "I, ah, never would have guessed. You've been at County for a few years, haven't you?"
"Three years. Graduated high school a year early and busted my ass in college taking classes over the summer breaks to get my degree as quickly as possible." She bit her bottom lip and reached across the table to touch his hand. "Does it bother you? That I'm a lot younger than you are, I mean?"
He wasn't quite sure how to answer her; he had assumed it would be she who had the problem with their age difference. He admitted as much after the waiter brought out their food.
"I've always considered age to be relative. Besides, have you seen the average twenty-three year-old guy lately? No thanks. I prefer dating higher life forms. I need more in common with someone than basic autonomic functions."
He laughed at that, realizing that his daughter had expressed much the same opinion about her peers. Dubenko took a bite of his dinner and nodded. "You were right about the pesto. So, besides excellent taste in dining venues, where else do your interests lie?"
"Well, I love a good suspense novel, adore changing the scenery in my goldfish aquarium and I'm a film addict. Good, bad, ugly…I pretty much watch them all."
"Does that extend to foreign films?"
"As long as it isn't horribly dubbed. I can't stand that. Give me subtitles any day."
They spent much of the remainder of the meal discussing assorted films, directors and personal favorites in various genres. They eventually worked their way around to discussing pop culture hits and the trilogy of films based on The Lord of the Rings, which led them on a tangent discussing medieval weaponry.
"The Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch does not count as a medieval weapon." Allison snorted as Lee Dubenko, in mock seriousness, claimed it to be the most effective means of waging war.
"Do you mean to tell me that Monty Python would portray historical events with anything less than absolute accuracy?"
"Next you'll be asking me about the airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow."
"Fine. A trebuchet."
"A tree bough what?"
"Trebuchet. The trebuchet was the dominant siege weapon in Europe from 850AD to 1350AD, lasting a hundred years after the introduction of gunpowder. In England it was called an ingenium, and the technicians who worked on the weapon were ingeniators, which by the way is where we get the term engineer. Large versions were able to throw boulders, cows or even shunned negotiators. Rotting flesh was also popular. It operated by harnessing the potential energy of a suspended weight." Dubenko stopped when he noticed the look of information overload on Allison's face.
"Let me explain it this way: you know how a see-saw works, right, Chapman?" To demonstrate Dubenko used the salt shaker that was on the table in front of him and his spoon as an impromptu visual aide. "You'd load your ammunition of choice," he placed a crouton in the curved end of the spoon, "and the counter force applied to the other end of the arm would launch it at the enemy."
As he spoke, Lee brought his hand down on the flat end of the spoon, sending the small piece of hardened bread into the air. He watched in horror as the food projectile bounced off Allison's chin and fell down the front of her blouse. He closed his eyes briefly and cursed under his breath. You just had to ruin a good thing, didn't you Dr. Dumbass? Do you like being single? You must, because there is no way she's going to want to go out with you again. "I'm sorry—"
As she dug the offending bit of salad topping out of her blouse, Allison laughed. "Thanks for the history lesson, Professor. I believe this is yours." She handed the crouton back to him as she continued to chortle.
Dubenko looked at the proffered object and couldn't resist a chuckle himself. "I, um, really do have better table manners than that. I promise."
"Better to be hit with a crouton than a cow, don't you think?" She winked at him.Later that evening, as Dubenko was walking Allison back to her apartment, he couldn't help but think that overall, the date had gone well. She had a sense of humor and was willing to overlook the awkward moments that normally would have sent him into a nervous panic.
"Well, this is me." She smiled sheepishly and pointed at the brownstone walkup behind them. "I've had a wonderful evening. Thank you for dinner and the movie."
Lee returned her smile with one of his own. Great. Now what? Do I kiss her? Do people kiss on the first date? Hug her? Shake her hand? Kick myself in the ass? he frantically thought as the slender redhead stared at him expectantly. Automatically, his hands went for the zipper of his jacket and he began to fiddle with the little metal tab. "I—I'm, um, I'm glad. Glad you had a nice time." He stopped and closed his eyes briefly, forced himself to take a deep breath.
Allison took the opportunity to step closer and place a gentle kiss on his cheek. "Good night, Lee."
"Good night." He fought the urge to press his hand to his cheek where her lips had just been. Instead he reached out and cupped her chin, tilting her head to the side before pressing his lips to her mouth once, twice and then, smiling, a third time. "Good night."
"Night." She leaned back on her heels and smiled softly. "I, um, I'm going to go inside."
"Night." Dubenko repeated, again playing with his jacket zipper.
"We've already said that three times now." She laughed at him as she turned to leave. Once she opened her front door she looked over her shoulder and said again, "Good night Lee."
He raised one hand in a half wave as she closed the door. "Night." He couldn't help but smile as he stood out on the sidewalk by himself. Maybe I can do this dating thing after all. At that moment the realization that he hadn't asked her out on a second date dawned on him. Dubenko hung his head and chuckled forlornly. So close and yet so far, Mr. Smooth.
Over the next few weeks, Dubenko saw the young technologist outside the hospital as often as both their schedules would allow. During working hours they made a point to meet for coffee, often resulting in Allison joining him in his cluttered office where they'd steal a few extra moments together.
He was enjoying the opportunity to get to know her, letting her know him. He was less awkward and more relaxed in her company as time wore on. It had always taken him a while to find that comfort zone with people on an individual basis, that is if his sometimes odd behavior didn't put them off cultivating a relationship in the first place.
Some of the hospital staff had noticed, and commented amongst themselves, about the marked change in the surgical attending's manner. He was still the efficient, sometimes brusque, no nonsense physician but he was also a lot more outgoing with the staff, jovial at some points. Dr. Lockhart in particular had noticed that Dubenko always had an amused, somewhat distracted smile on his face. She had confided in Dr. Lewis one morning that she was afraid the eccentric surgeon was going to start trying to cozy up to her again.
"Lockhart, good morning. How are you?" Dubenko chatted amicably as they both stood in the elevator bay.
"Um, fine." She gave him one of her less than encouraging looks.
"How was your weekend?"
"I was working."
"Oh. That's a shame; the weather was wonderful. I was at the lakefront and for the first time in years I realized how much I miss sailing. Not that I've done much sailing on a lake, but I used to spend summers at the Cape…" He trailed off as Lockhart yawned and looked at her watch.
"Am I boring you, Lockhart?" Before she could answer, the elevator chimed and the door opened. Dubenko allowed the resident to enter the lift first.
"Hmm? Didn't know you sailed." She answered in a disinterested way that implied that she really didn't care if he sailed or fell overboard and drowned.
Dubenko just smiled at her. "When the weather's warmer, you should give it a try. I'd be glad to show you the ropes."
Lockhart just stared at the senior doctor in disbelief.
"It's not hard. My daughter was tying knots and manning the sails while she was still in primary school."
"Look, I'm sorry but I'm not interested in sailing or anything else with you, okay? I don't want to publish any more papers, I don't want to have dinner and I don't want your advice and lectures on becoming a more assertive doctor." Lockhart stepped out of the elevator and disappeared down the hall before Dubenko could react.
Susan Lewis, the ER Chief, was standing just outside the elevator bay and gave Dubenko an odd look. "What was that about?"
"I think she thought I was coming on to her." He shrugged. "Something I can help you with, Dr. Lewis?"
"Actually, I was up here looking for you. Weaver's on a record keeping warpath and there is a pile of charts I just dumped in your office for you to review. Surgical consults for the ER where my residents never got you to actually sign off. Can you get those to me as soon as possible?"
"I'll see what I can do with them this morning. Have Lockhart check in with me later and she can bring the charts back down to the ER." He smirked.
"You are a glutton for punishment."
"Not really, but I think Lockhart may be."
The blonde doctor laughed as she departed.Upon entering his office, the brown haired doctor realized that it was more than a pile of charts that his colleague had left for him. "Well, Dr. Lewis, what have we been doing? Stockpiling these things since the Hippocratic oath was penned?"
Dubenko began sorting through the charts, arranging them in neat piles on the floor near his desk and chuckling to himself as he pictured Lockhart's face when she found out she was going to play messenger boy for him. "Lewis must have made at least three trips up here."
Picking up a stack of charts, Dubenko reached for his phone as well. He dialed his daughter's phone number absently as he scanned the first file in front of him. "Blah blah CT yada yada chest tube blah blah—" he mumbled until he heard the answering machine pick up on the other end.
"This is the refrigerator speaking, the answering machine's on strike. If you'd like to leave a message I'll do my best to spell it out in magnetic poetry." His daughter's recorded voice droned on emotionlessly.
"Somebody needs their medication adjusted, Sophie monster. Are you home baby? Pick up the phone. Sophie? Sophie, Sophie, Sophie—"
"God Papa, could be a little more annoying next time?" She sounded sleepy as she grumbled into the phone.
"Did I wake you?" Dubenko tried his best to sound innocent, but he couldn't keep the amusement out of his voice. Though it was an hour later on the east coast, he knew that Sophia would still be in bed.
"Yes, I'm simply exhausted after a night of drunken debauchery and wild sex," Sophia deadpanned.
"Ah well, so long as you had a good time, baby. How wild? Because you know I strictly look down on anything involving the use of farm animals." He could play the game of one-upmanship better than his daughter and he knew it.
"Disgusting, Papa. Then again, I suppose most frat guys could be classified as farm animals so…what did you call me for anyway? I hope it wasn't to discuss my sex life or lack thereof."
"Trust me, Soph, the less I know about that the better. No, I, uh, wanted to verify just when you were coming in next month. I can't seem to find the paper I wrote your flight information on the last time we spoke." He scribbled a few notes on a chart and signed it, adding it to the pile of completed files for the ER.
"For the love of…Papa, write it down and staple it to your forehead, okay? If you leave me stranded at O'Hare I'll never forgive you." She rattled off flight times and gate arrivals.
"Will it suffice to merely tack it to my bulletin board, Soph? I can't find my stapler." He dropped another chart in the finished pile.
"What are you doing?" Sophie heard the clattering and shuffling noises on her father's end of the line.
"Charting. The fun administrative side of being a doctor."
"I find it comforting, this attention to detail you put forth, Doctor Dubenko."
"Is that sarcasm I hear, Sophia Marie?"
"Nooooooo. Of course not. Never. Look, as much as I love talking to you, can I call you later tonight Papa? I really want to go back to bed." She yawned for emphasis.
"Don't you have classes today?" His daughter was attending UVA in Charlottesville, Virginia.
"Not until this afternoon. Convenient for those of us who hate the morning hours, no? I love you, Papa. I'll call you tonight, okay?"
"I won't be home, Sophie."
"Jesus, you'd think that by this point in your career you'd be able to get away with not pulling those godawful shifts."
"I'm not on call, baby. I have a date. Besides, my staff would hate me if I tweaked the schedule like that. What's good for the goose is good for the gander and all that."
"You are crazy. Wait, what? Date?"
"I thought you wanted to go back to sleep?"
"Sleep can wait, this should be good. Spill it, doc."
"Why is it that I never get to hear about your dates?"
"Because I never have any worth mentioning. Details, please."
Laughing, Dubenko filled his daughter in on his plans for the evening, and the fact that he had been seeing Allison Chapman for the past couple of months. "She's really nice, Sophie. I think you'll like her."
"What? You want me to meet her? Aren't afraid I'll say something horrid? Is this serious, Papa? What's she like?"
"Why do I feel like we're playing twenty questions? Yes, I'd like you to meet her when you come to visit. I don't plan on ignoring Allison for the two weeks that you are here. As for you saying something horrid, you will be on your best behavior and not act like the vicious little imp that you are."
"You never let me have any fun, Papa."
"I'm sorry you feel that way, baby."
"Seriously, what's this mystery woman like? And why haven't you said anything about her before? Two months, Papa? If I was seeing someone for two months, I'd tell you."
"She's smart, funny, works here at the hospital. I don't know, Sophie. I just like spending time with her. She's…nice."
"You sound happy. Okay, I'll quit grilling you. I want my bed."
"Sweet dreams, Sophia. I can't wait to see you."
"Mmm. I'm calling you tomorrow. I want to hear about this date."
Hanging up the phone, Dubenko went back to signing charts and thinking about his plans for the evening. He didn't hear Dr. Abby Lockhart walk into his office, or notice that she was standing behind his chair glaring daggers at him.
"Susan said you wanted to see me." Abby's lackluster statement startled Dubenko and he spun around in his chair, accidentally elbowing Lockhart in the stomach. "Oomph."
"Lockhart. Sorry. I, uh, I didn't know you were in here. How long have you been standing there?"
Rubbing her stomach and giving him another baleful glare, Abby replied, "Long enough to know that you have a date tonight."
"Eavesdropping is rude, Lockhart."
"Why did you want to see me?"
"I just thought you'd like to apologize for your uncalled-for behavior this morning. I realize that you have a great deal of disdain for those with authority over you, myself in particular; however, that doesn't excuse you from showing some common courtesy to your superiors. Oh, and you can take these back down to Dr. Lewis. She's expecting them."
The brunette resident just stared at him, her arms now full of charts and paperwork. "That's all, Lockhart. You can go." He dismissed her without so much as giving her another look. "I have work to do, Lockhart. Leave."
Dubenko was sitting by himself at a table near the back of Ike Ryan's. The fact that he was dressed in a turtleneck layered with a sweatshirt gave the impression that he was of a bulkier stature than the actual truth. His back to the door and his attention focused on shredding the label on his beer bottle, he didn't notice when doctors Lockhart and Lewis sat at the adjacent table. It wasn't until he heard his name mentioned that he looked over his shoulder and recognized his colleagues.
"I mean really, Susan. That man is such a creep. I don't know how you can stand to spend time with him outside of the hospital, in your house, even. Aren't you afraid he's going to warp Cosmo?"
"Come on, Abby, he isn't that bad. He's kind of quirky, sure, but he's also brilliant. And a hundred times better than Romano. I know we shouldn't speak ill of the dead, but he was a real creep. Not Dubenko. Besides, he's actually great with Cosmo. You should have seen him, sitting on my living room floor, baby on his lap and research materials scattered around them. It was sweet. He didn't even get annoyed when Cosmo snatched his glasses right off his face."
Dubenko smiled softly to himself, recalling the series of papers he and Dr. Lewis had published together. He had enjoyed the evenings spent working with her and getting to know her family.
"You sound like you've got a crush or something, Susan." Lockhart sounded repulsed.
"Hardly. I just don't think he's a bad guy. In fact, Chuck keeps bugging me to invite him over for dinner, I think he wants to play matchmaker."
"Supposedly he has a date tonight. Chuck won't have to sacrifice any of your friends on the altar of Dubenko weirdness." The brunette's sarcasm was biting.
Dubenko turned in his seat and made eye contact with Susan Lewis, letting her know that he had heard every word. The blonde smiled sympathetically before he turned back around.
"Ah, Abby?"
"Fine, you like him. He hasn't sidled up to you to make you his pet project, or tried to coerce you into dinner dates, or even made you into a messenger boy after dressing you down in a humiliating manner."
"You kind of deserved that, sorry."
"What?"
"You went off on a senior attending in the middle of the surgical floor for no reason. And you should probably know that he's sitting right behind us." Susan winced as she watched her friend do the same.
"I need a drink. A big drink. Maybe one with a little umbrella in it."
"Yeah."
Allison Chapman chose that moment to walk past the female doctors and join Dubenko at his table. She came up behind the seated man and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, placing a kiss on his cheek and grinning. "Hello, handsome. Sorry I'm late. In case you were wondering, it is never a good idea to put Jell-o in a centrifuge."
"Chapman, I'm afraid to even ask." He stood up and pulled out a chair for her.
Susan Lewis learned across the table towards Abby and spoke softly. "Hey, she's cute. Looks like I can tell Chuck that Dubenko doesn't need a matchmaker after all."
Abby looked over her shoulder and smirked. "She's also young. What is she? One of the candy stripers?"
"Abby!"
"Tell me I'm wrong about him now, Susan."
Allison cleared her throat and spoke up, her comment directed at Lockhart. "How about if she just tells you what a catty bitch you are? I don't see you out on a date with anyone, so what happened? Did you scare them all off with your oh so pleasant disposition?"
Before Abby or anyone else could say anything, Allison was standing up and addressing Dubenko. "Why don't we go elsewhere? I don't want to continue to offend anyone's sensibilities--besides, we'll be late for the movie if we don't get moving."
Dubenko muttered an apology and farewell to Susan as he passed their table, not even bothering to look at Lockhart who was sitting there, her mouth agape.
"Allison—" Dubenko started to address his date as she stormed down the sidewalk towards his car.
She rounded on him, her eyes flashing with anger. "Lee, how can you just sit there and let her talk about you that way? I don't understand it."
"Allie, it doesn't matter. It's not like it's anything I haven't heard before. Do you honestly thing that Lockhart is the first person to ever think I'm a little odd? Or to call me weird? Let it go." His voice was calm and reasonable, masking the hurt his eyes held.
"I can't let it go. It's rude. And mean. And for God's sake, what about at least respecting your position at the hospital?"
"We aren't at work, Allie. I'm not going to hold her personal opinions against her. Besides, like you said, I'm the one with a charming companion for the evening. She's having drinks with her boss."
"I'm charming?" She grinned up at him.
"And when you are angry, you are really quite attractive." He kissed her nose playfully. "We have a movie to catch. And, um, why was there Jell-o in the centrifuge?"
"I thought you weren't going to ask. I hate lab geeks. They think it's so funny to fill test tubes up with questionable content and see which unsuspecting tech will run them through the standard work up and freak over the results. Don't you dare laugh at me either, doctor."
It was fairly late when Dubenko dropped Allison off at her apartment and made his way home. When his cell phone rang, the doctor groaned, assuming that it was the hospital wanting him to come in for something. He let out a sigh of relief when he recognized his daughter's number on the display.
"Zdravstvujte! Kak dela?" He smiled to himself as he cheerfully answered the phone for once, waiting for Sophie to find something else to complain about regarding his phone skills. It was an old game and one he enjoyed.
"You have a cold or something Papa?" Sophie didn't speak a word of Russian, other than the foul ones, regardless of how often Lee had tried to teach her. He knew she understood the language perfectly well; she was just stubborn.
"What's up, Sophie Monster?" He sat in his car, now parked in the driveway, as he talked.
"How many times do I have to ask you to stop calling me that?" His daughter feigned annoyance at his pet name for her.
"Three, maybe four million more times. If you are calling to pump me for details about my date, forget it." He remembered all too well just how she had tormented him about his quasi-date with Dr. Lockhart many months earlier and had no desire to repeat the experience.
"Spoilsport. Fine, I won't ask about your date. What about the mystery woman you had the date with? Can I ask about her? What's she look like? How'd you meet? How old is she? Is this serious? Does she put out?" She rambled off a litany of questions.
"Yes I am. And yes you may." Lee laughed as he rapidly answered her questions with as little detail as possible, "Pretty, hospital, twenty-three, maybe, none of your business." He guffawed as Sophie blew a raspberry over the phone in response.
"Wait, what? Please tell me you did not just say twenty-three. Are you dating a med student? A Candy Striper? A patient? Good god, Papa…that's just…you are kidding, right?"
"No I'm not kidding, Sophie. Allison's twenty-three and she's a lab technologist. We've been seeing each other for a few months and I really like her. She's funny and sweet. We have a good time together, Sophie, you'll like her."
"Yeah, I'm sure Papa, considering she's in my peer group. Hey, you know my friend Michelle's single, want her number in case things with Allison don't work out? How about Georgia? You've always said she was cute…dear god. Please tell me you weren't checking her out when you said that. She's my age."
"Sophia, you are really pushing it, young lady. Look, I didn't realize how young she was when we initially started dating, okay? I wasn't intentionally looking to date someone half my age. And even if I were, I would never date one of your friends. Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb give me a headache," he added, referring to the two girls with whom Sophia spent most of her time.
"I still say that's twisted Papa, but whatever floats your kinky little boat."
"Sophie…stop it, okay. Please? Look, it's late and I'm going to bed. I love you. Good night." He didn't really feel up to justifying anything to his daughter at this point.