Page 135 of DadBod
ROME
Three weeks later
Things with Elizabethand me are so good, I’m half afraid something is going to fuck it up. That’s why I’ve got something special planned. Okay. It was Ryann’s idea, but I’m going to take some of the credit. It was my idea to have a “welcome home” party for my parents. The perfect guise for Ryann’s plan.
“Are we going to move the tables off the side so people can mingle?” my girlfriend asks as she places white tablecloths on each table in our banquet room.
“That’s a great idea.” Yelling for my son, he comes running from somewhere in the main part of the restaurant.
“Yeah, Dad?”
“Help me move these tables. We’re going to push them out so there’s more room for people to mingle.”
“Mingle. Gotcha.” God, this kid is something else. While I know he doesn’t like chores, he’s never done anything other than get a little grouchy when asked to help out. Honestly, doesn’t the notion of chores make everyone grouchy? He gets to work. “Thanks, Cal. I really appreciate you.”
That’s something Elizabeth has taught me––to thank people and tell them their time, efforts, and work are appreciated. Funny. Ever since I started trying that one for size, I’ve noticed people call in sick less often, and I would swear, there are more smiles from everyone. Hell, even Antony is less grouchy.
“Dad.” Turning, I gasp at the sight of my daughter in a white dress––one she and Elizabeth picked out for tonight. If I’d been there, I would have griped about the strapless top and the short skirt, but I was told, in no uncertain words, that it was entirely appropriate for my daughter to wear.
“You look beautiful, Ryann.”
My kid blushes but smiles as well. “Thank you.” Pointing at my new suit, she returns the compliment.
“You picked it out.” It’s dark gray. My shirt is blue while my tie is every color in the rainbow. Elizabeth bought it for me while shopping with Ryann. According to my girl, my ties are “boring” and they needed “spicing up.” Well, mission accomplished.
“Antony is mad about something,” Elizabeth says, entering from the bar area. “You’d better go talk to him.” Reaching for her, I pull her in for a kiss. “You, Elizabeth, look amazing.”
With a sassy eye roll, she snorts and says, “You’re sort of complimenting yourself right now. You picked it out.”
She’s right. I did my own shopping. I found her a dress in a deep green. It’s short, too, to show off her legs. It’s also low-cut, which, after seeing her in it, makes me wish I’d gotten her a turtleneck dress. Then, no one else could look down her top.
“Damn it.”
“What?” she asks, looking surprised at my words.
“Nothing. Hard to tell what’s up Antony’s ass.”
That’s a lie. I know exactly what’s up his ass. I vetoed one of his new seafood recipes because it tasted like ass. No matter, I’ll appease him by giving him a raise. A small one. Business has been good. He deserves a lot of the credit.
Striding to the kitchen, I notice everyone hard at work. The three new servers we hired, in addition to Gianna, have worked out well. Gianna? Not so much. It’s why I’ve got her back at the hostess station and I’ve trained Ryann to serve. She’s already great. I can’t help beaming with pride thinking about it, because Ryann has made it her mission to raise money for the Pet Project and her way is fucking clever. She ordered a button with a photo of Charlie on it off the internet with the words, “I donate 100% of my tips for this guy. Ask me more about it.” And they always ask. When they do, she tells them about the Pet Project, and if she can, she talks about Charlie. Her tips are always more than average. One woman, Sandra, Calvin’s dinner companion who now comes in once a month to dine with Cal, gave her $500. And since I promised to match all her tips for her cause, she’s made some very generous donations. My kid is amazing. Hell, they’re both amazing.
* * *
“Surprise!”the group of about thirty people yell the minute my parents walk into the banquet space in my restaurant.
Calvin adds, “Welcome home, Grammy and Papa!”
“Well.” My mom places her palms on her tan face. “This is a surprise.”
She’s doing an amazing job pretending. She knew about the party because I told her about it. You see, this little surprise party is a cover for the real reason we’re here.
Stepping up to my parents, I hug Mom and shake my father’s hand. “You glad to be back?”
“You have no idea,” my father deadpans. When my mom throws him a dirty look, he quickly says, “We had a great time, but it’s always good to get home.”
Good save, Pops. Good save.
Since everyone’s attention is on us, it’s time. “Elizabeth?” I spot her on the far end of the room fiddling with the buffet table. When she spots me, she waves but stays put. “Can you come up here, honey?”