Chapter 12 – Daddy's Girl

"Hey Dad," Alex said as she got out of the car, greeting him with a small, sheepish smile. Blake got out too, and went around to the back of the car to get Alex's bag for her. The man stared at Blake, and greeted his daughter by patting her shoulder.

"Hey," he said in a sombre tone, "You're late home."

"She's going for a hat trick," Blake muttered, passing Alex her bag, and fell silent under her father's confused gaze. He wasn't sure why he'd said it, other than that he was extremely nervous. Alex stepped in to explain.

"I was late to school, then to rehearsal and now home," she said with a faint smile. "He's joking," she added, as if she had to explain.

Her father nodded and crossed his arms. Blake tried to keep his chin up under the man's scrutiny; at easily six foot tall and with the stature of an athlete, his bright blue eyes were penetrating Blake and making him feel uncomfortable, and he couldn't help but feel he was only allowed there on approval. He was terrifying. Yet Alex had described her father as kind, and funny, so Blake searched for signs of that in his countenance.

No, he was just annoyed.

But who could blame him? His daughter and he had been in a fight, and she had stayed out late with a boy that, although could be trusted, he'd never met properly. Fathers had to worry about that sort of thing.

William stared at Blake for a little longer, taking in his physique. He hadn't expected the boy to be quite so charming and...well...good looking. With dark hair and very grave eyes, he could tell Blake wasn't like a lot of the male dancers he'd seen when he'd gone to Alex's concerts. This one seemed self assured in a good way; as opposed to the cocksure idiots he'd been privy to backstage. He seemed very serious for someone his age, with a frown that he often only saw on adults.. You could tell by the eyes that he was much older inside than out, and that was comforting. Maturity in a guy that spent a lot of time with his daughter was reassuring.

He had wanted to believe the worst in Blake when his name first reached William's ears several weeks back. But actions speak louder than words, and the actions he had witnessed from this Collins kid were nothing short of exemplary. He had wanted to be wary when Alex first told him about the boy giving her lifts home, but he had never heard report of him over stepping the mark, and he knew that Alex wouldn't take bother from anyone if she didn't want to. He'd raised her to hold her own, and she could damn well do it.

He wanted to be mad she had been out with Blake instead of coming back home, but he just couldn't. She was in one piece, and she was smiling and that was definitely an improvement on this morning.

"You could have rung me," her dad said in a low voice, turning his attention to his daughter. "I've been worried. I rang the school, and the Director said no one was in the studio."

"Yeah, sorry. I guess I was still mad," Alex said guiltily, tucking her hair behind her ears. "Blake took me out for ice cream to cheer me up."

"I'm not angry, you're old enough to take care of yourself," William said with a sad sigh parents often used when they realised their child was grown up. "I just...after you left this morning, I felt awful. Considered skipping work to come see you," he admitted scratching his head. "But you're home now, so that's ok."

"I'll leave you two alone," Blake muttered, wanting to leave their father daughter moment, but William's eyes fell on him again.

"No, wait," he commanded, lifting a hand. "Blake Collins isn't it?" he said, pacing towards him, ready to shake the boy's hand. Blake eyed it with a frown but took it and shook it firmly.

"Yes."

"William Hale, Alex's father," he said in a deep voice. "It's nice to finally meet you face to face. I want to thank you for getting Alex home safe these past few weeks. You didn't have to, and my mind's been put at ease knowing that she's not walking back through the Green," he added with a sideways glance at his daughter, as she rolled her eyes.

Blake gave him a crooked smile, and fought the urge to look over William's shoulder to throw Alex a smug look. "It's not a problem."

"And I gotta say," William chuckled. "This is one sweet ride. A Ford Mustang – I didn't think kids your age would be interested in the classics."

"Well, I like it," was all Blake managed.

"Did your parents buy it for you?" William asked with a hand on the roof, examining the bodywork.

Blake raised an eyebrow. "No, I bought it myself."

Alex looked at him with astonishment. She hadn't known that. Once again, another surprise from the enigmatic Blake Collins.

William nodded appreciatively. "Well, I'm always saying to Alex what good taste you have."

Blake nodded. "Thank you Mr. Hale."

William grinned and looked at Alex. "Well behaved isn't he? Thought you said he was a bit of an as..."

"Ahhh, Dad, inside," Alex said in a high pitched voice, laughing nervously as she pulled him away and pushed him towards the house. "I didn't say that," she whispered, with a screwed up face to Blake. "He likes to joke – remember, I said he was funny. Hilarious," she said pushing her father again, and thumping his back.

William halted by digging his feet in and turning so quickly, Alex nearly fell over. His face spread into one of sudden thoughtfulness. "Hey, Blake!" he called out. "You like baseball?"

Blake, who had been getting into his car, stopped doing so and leant on the top hood. "I guess so," he said, with a frown. "Why do you ask?"

"Come by this Saturday – it's a big game. Atlanta Braves versus the Cleveland Indians," William said, ignoring his daughter's dazed face. "If you know anything about the game, you'll know what a shocking final that is."

"I don't know..." Blake rubbed his head.

"I could do with the company! I can get rid of Alex," William suggested, wincing as she punched his arm. Blake couldn't help but smile.

"No, that's ok..."

"We'll have carrot sticks..." William said. "Cos I know you dancers aren't really into Doritos's. Call it a thank you offering, for taking care of my girl," he said wrapping an arm around Alex's neck. She looked embarrassed at first but looking up at her Dad, Blake saw a real love fill in her eyes. He was almost jealous; he almost certainly couldn't be that way with his mother, and though his father often ribbed him the way William did Alex, it didn't feel the same.

"I guess so," Blake answered finally. He had nothing else on in the afternoon, and he quite liked the prospect of having something to do that wasn't related to dance. "I have work in the morning, but I'm free after that."

"Excellent, it's a date," William smiled, squeezing Alex's shoulders. She made a strange noise, her cheeks flushing a deep red, but she kept her smile.

"Bye Mr. Hale, goodbye Alex," Blake said, giving them a quick wave and getting into his car finally. He exhaled deeply as he sat there for a moment. Well, he'd gotten his wish hadn't he? He'd met William Hale. And it hadn't been so bad. The guy could have hated him instantly. Fathers, he'd observed, had a way of knowing when someone was interested in their daughter, even if it was just a small spark. Blake frowned as he started the engine and pulled away, a cold hand gripping at his stomach. Was that why he'd be invited round? For approval? To be sized up as a potential partner for his daughter?

Suddenly Saturday didn't seem like such a good idea.

XXXXX

Alex shut the door behind her father and sighed. It wasn't even seven yet, and she was exhausted – completely ready to crawl under her covers and go to sleep. But she hadn't eaten anything except for the ice cream, and even she couldn't deny the rumble in her belly. Her father had gone through into the kitchen as if anticipating her need to eat, and she followed him dumbly to find him getting a plate of food out from the refrigerator and sliding it into the microwave. She sat down on a stool at the breakfast bar. William glanced up as he leant on the counter with a smile.

"So that was Blake Collins huh?"

Alex shrugged. "Yeah, I guess so."

"You didn't mention how good looking he was," William probed.

Alex raised an eyebrow, and donned a smirk. "Are you gay?"

Her father laughed at his daughter's ability to hold her own against even him, and went to the fridge to get a bag of salad out. Pulling her plate from the microwave and arranging some tossed salad leaves for her, he slid it across the table with a knife and fork. She murmured some thanks, eyeing the lasagne suspiciously but digging her fork into it none the less.

"How is it?" he asked after a few mouthfuls, sitting down opposite.

"S'good. Did next door make it?" 'Next door' being Mrs. Shepherd, whose son had also attended MSA and had since flown the nest. She occasionally made the Hale's meals as a good will offering, knowing Alex was often busy and William was hopeless.

"Nope, I made it myself," he said. Alex coughed and put down the fork, one step away from spitting it out. She swallowed her mouthful, and stuck her tongue out, reaching for a glass and walking to the tap for a drink.

"Let me see the recipe," she demanded, downing some water with a wrinkled up nose. William laughed loudly and shook his head.

"It's your recipe! I followed it to the letter. And you said it was good. I figured you need a break from taking care of us, when you're trying to do school and stuff. So I bit the bullet and started teaching myself." He leaned in close to his daughter who still looked sceptical. "I made dessert..."

"From scratch?" Alex said, not bothering mask her incredulity.

"Nah, it's Betty Crocker, but the thought was there," William admitted with a shrug. Alex snorted, sat down and carried on eating. William waited patiently until she'd finished; she'd been hungry alright, not a scrap was left on her plate. But she was subdued, and although she'd arrived home smiling, and they'd been joking before, the weight of this morning seemed to press on them both.

"Thanks," Alex said quietly pushing the plate aside. "Sorry we didn't eat together."

"That's ok," her father said glumly.

Alex sighed. Every year on the anniversary of her mother's death, they would have their mother's favourite breakfast – maple syrup pancakes, which would be the only time of year Alex ate anything like that for breakfast – and talk about her. It was a simple thing, and for one day they made an overt effort to keep Nina alive by bringing back her memory. In the afternoon, they usually sat on the porch, just in view of the rosebushes which, in spite of his lack of gardening abilities, William had maintained. The evening was devoted to watching her favourite movie – It's a Wonderful Life.

And they had broken tradition today.

It didn't sit well as the realisation dawned, and Alex began to feel a little sick. Her apology rushed out of her like a flood. "I'm so sorry Dad - I didn't mean anything I said. I've just been so run down, and then I blamed you for not waking me up. I'm sorry we've not done any of the things we would normally."

William shook his head. "I'm sorry. I should have woken you up, but I just figured you needed your rest. That's my problem – I don't look at things logically, I just see you looking exhausted and dismiss school. It's not that I don't give a damn about your dancing," he said taking her plate to the dishwasher, so missing her wince as he repeated her words back to her. "I don't want you to think that."

"But we've not done pancakes, or the roses, or the film..." She looked at the clock. We could still do the film, she thought, though the idea of it made her drowsy.

William seemed to read her mind and shook his head. "It's just one time. Your Mom's been dead ten years Alex. I dealt with her ghost a long time ago; the idea of doing this each year isn't to preserve her and pretend she's still here, to mourn her. It's to remember her, and celebrate what she loved. I can do that any day," he said with a sad smile. "I see her in lots of things. Not just pancakes, roses and the face of James Stewart."

"I guess so." She had to smile.

"Anyway," William said, doing his usual trick of not lingering too long in a touching moment. "First real date with Collins eh?" He wiggled his eyebrows and Alex shook her head.

"You've gotta stop doing that! Especially since you invited him round," she said with a glare. "What was that all about?"

"I figured the kid could do with a break," William shrugged. "He looked very...intense."

"A break? With you?" Alex said incredulously, rising from her seat.

"Yeah, go on. Say it like I'm Hitler or something." William passed by her to go through to the lounge. "The kid needs something other than dance. Human company, that's what. Didn't take me five minutes to work that out."

"Blake has friends," Alex said, with a frown and crossing her arms over herself as she followed him. William had thrown himself into his chair and switched the television on.

"Bug, I see the same thing in him that I see in you," William sighed.

"What's that?" Alex said, perching on the arm of his chair and staring at him.

"Loneliness. The both of you - surrounded by people all the time and feeling completely alone. Don't frown like you think I don't know what I'm talking about – you want to take dance as far as you can, and some of your friends will fall at the first hurdle. You're isolated, and special," he insisted with a smile. "Now you have the ole Hale charm, so people are always going to be drawn to you," he added with a wink, to try and soften his damning statement. "But for a long time you've tried to pass off this self inflicted solitude as preferring my company, or your responsibilities. Hanging out with your Dad is fine, but when are you going to start living?"

Alex stared at the television and the moving images, but didn't answer, nor did she take them in.

"I'm not saying I want you to start drinking, or injecting crack into your eyeballs, or whatever it is you're supposed to do," he said dismissively, making Alex laugh to herself. "And I know you're not into parties and hooking up with guys every night. Believe me that is a huge relief," he said with wide eyes. "But living doesn't involve being reckless. It's about letting go."

"Dad," Alex groaned. "I'm tired, and this is turning into a Dear Abby column."

"Just listen. For the first time," William continued, nursing a bottle of beer in his hands she hadn't noticed him bring through, "there is someone in your life who takes the lonely look out of your eyes. Now, it doesn't matter if you find the guy attractive or not – I was just teasing about that, even though he seems like a decent enough guy - but as a friend, he's more like you than you think, and I think more of each other's company would be good for the both of you."

She paused and thought about it. He was right to a degree. She liked Jane and Hilary and Frankie all the others she spent time with – they filled a gap and they were good people – but sometimes she couldn't express how she felt over certain things in a way that they would understand. Dance was her everything in life; she adored it above all things, except her father, and she wondered if they would be willing to push themselves the way she was. If nothing else, Blake had been a good friend; he understood her and to a certain degree cared about her welfare. And she didn't dislike his company. In fact, at certain times, she almost craved it – to be with someone so likeminded, and the calm quiet she had experienced earlier.

"When did you get so wise?" she joked quietly.

"When I started watching Oprah. That woman..." he cooed, but he patted Alex's leg affectionately.

"Well, so long as you don't embarrass me on Saturday," Alex said, skirting around her internal thoughts and getting up to go to bed. "Or yourself."

William scoffed. "As if I would."

"Oh right," Alex said sarcastically. "Shall I just remind you of just before? 'We'll have carrot sticks?'" she said, mimicking his deep voice and Bostonian accent.

"Hey! I was being considerate of other people's preferences!" William objected, sitting forward and wagging a finger at her retreating back.

"Whatever," Alex called out as she scaled the stairs to her bedroom. "Just do me a favour – for the love of God, don't bring up leotards."