We're all addicts in one form or another

“Dad?”

“Amber?”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“You can always ask me a question.”

Amber rolls her eyes from to left to right in a rainbow arc, she the sunshine and him the rain. She sighs, tries not to react further, lower herself to his level and instead recomposes herself. Take two and action. “If I ask you a question will you give me an honest answer please?”

He wasn't sure what the underlying sentiment was in the way she had asked the question, but he knew whatever it was that she had to ask it was clearly important to her and by extension as the man who brought her into the world, it should therefore be important to him. There's a time for being a smart arse and a time for being a father. This was one of those rare occasions his conscience reminded him that it was still there and ready for use, all he had to do was break the glass and hit the emergency button. He sat up from the slumped position in his chair and leant forward trying to convey as best he could a look of seriousness which was alien to every bone and sinew in his body which were all busily tensing themselves. Ensuring he didn't shoot himself in the foot unintentionally he rather wisely chose to say nothing and merely waited, thus allowing Amber to compose herself and to ask whatever it was that seemed so important.

The silence admittedly knocked her off balance for a second or two. She waited for the standard patter to follow, the same lines she'd heard a thousand times before and yet they never came. Here goes nothing I guess she tells herself in her head. Pep talk over, take a deep breath and ask. What's the worst that could happen? Then she mentally kicks herself for asking that stupid question because her brain started to figure out the answer and now nothing was breaking the silence or the awkwardness of the situation they both found themselves in. She involuntarily shook her head as if her subconscious believed that by magic the intrusive thoughts would fall out of both her ears and the words she actually needed to say would roll down onto her tongue like a fruit machine paying out the jackpot.

He shuffled in his seat, the awkwardness of trying to be a father not sitting well within his body. He’d have chosen flight over fight but knew neither was an option on the table. Yet he still said nothing which was killing him. Not like a cancer, but still killing him on some minor level. He was always like the volcano ready to spew molten lava. Always a word for every occasion. Maybe we can tell her to get on with it, that we've not got all day? No, probably best not to. Time is precious but it's not like you were sat using it wisely, instead choosing to watch sports on a Saturday afternoon when there's a world of discovery that awaits outside of the front door.

Finally the silence is broken.

“Did you… did you love mum?”

“Oh.” For someone who loves a smart arse answer she sure got you there. He waits a moment for her to elaborate, or at least say something that might make him feel less awkward, but nope, she's a fast learner, she's copying your behaviour and is now sat forward. All that's missing is a table with a chess board and two timers between them.

He rubs the back of his head, his inner child self soothing. He wants to sit back in the chair but fears that would be checkmate, instead he wills himself not to move and hopes the right words come to him. He wants to ask why she wants to know but that's not important. What's important is clearly what he has to say on the subject, so think before you speak. Clear your throat, try to be sincere but don't be one of those arseholes talking after the Lord Mayor's show. She wants to know about life before she came along, before the divorce. The parts you've not thought about for a decade or more. Buy yourself some time.

“I tell you what. I can see this is important to you. Why don't you make us both a cup of tea and whilst you're doing that I'll try find the right words to answer you. It's not something I've thought about for a long time and I'll need to take a few books from a shelf that I've not read through in a number of years. Blow some of the dust and cobwebs away… does that make sense? Is that OK with you?"

Amber smiled, lifted herself up off her chair and walked forward to him and kissed him on the cheek and exited towards the kitchen. That threw him but he felt the warmth of her love spread through his veins like a junky injecting heroin. Love is as powerful a drug as anything illegal you can take given the right circumstances. We’re all addicts of one kind or another.

Minutes later she returns carrying two mugs and a packet of Jammy Dodgers clenched between her teeth. “Thank you,” he says, unburdening her of one of the mugs. He blows on the tea and takes a sip. “Nice,” he says and finds himself smiling.

“Biscuit?” She asks, having retaken her seat, and removed the packet from her clenched teeth.

“Best not to talk with my mouthful.”

“Well practice what you preach!”

“Jesus, you know who you sound like?”

“You?”

“Yes! It's kinda scary.”

She laughs for the time it takes before she bites into a jammy dodger and fixes him with a stare, eagerly anticipating his answer.

“Do you have a lot of questions?”

She replies through a half chewed biscuit “Probably. Depends on the answers I guess. I might have a sudden notion that you're about to tell me something I don't want to hear and I'll tell you to stop.”

“Will you put your fingers in your ears and go la, la, la I can't hear you?”

“Dad, I'm not five years old anymore!”

“So you're fine with me telling you about mine and your mum's sex life?”

As they say, if looks could kill… and if her foot was close enough he'd now be rubbing his shin.

“Sorry. Cheap shot but worth it for the look on your face. So… did I love your mum? Of course I loved your mum. I'm guessing you want to know more than just that?”

Amber nods her head and regrets taking the next mouthful of biscuit which she's now desperately trying to chew before she washes down the remanence with a mouthful of tea.

“What attracted you to her? Try to make the answer clean please. I don't need to know what you found physically appealing. I want to know the rest. Does that make sense?”

“I think so. I think what I admired most was that she knew what she wanted out of life.”

Amber clearly hadn't been expecting that as an answer as she looks slightly taken aback. Who knew her old man could be so deep? He continued “The problem with loving a woman who knows what she wants in life is that if she reaches a point whereby she realises it isn't you anymore there's nothing much you can really do about it I'm afraid and I never thought that part through when I fell in love with her.”

That clearly hit Amber hard in parts she didn't know she could be hurt as tears begin to well in her eyes. Hashtag notallmen are complete and utter dicks, not even her own father who she's not always seen eye to eye with and certainly not since he and her mum got divorced.

“We can hug it out now if you like or wait until the end? Mind you, if we wait until the end I might not get a hug,” he tells her pulling a funny face which made her laugh and she wipes away the tears and yet she doesn't move from her spot.

OK so we're not going to wiggle out of this one easily, she's not fallen off her bike and doesn't need her daddy anymore to comfort her and make the pain go away. Duly noted.

“I still love her, you know? There will always be a place in my heart for her. We created you together so we'll always be bound for life whether she likes it or not. Look we live in a world where we feel we need to label everything. So to her she's got her label maker out and stuck ex-husband on my forehead and father of my child. I mean there's far worst things to be in life. At one point I was the love of her life. Then you came along and you were the love of her life and as your Dad I'm totally cool with that because in fairness I'm guilty of that as much as she was. Ohhhhhh, that's not to say that any of this is your fault. Sorry I'm just waffling. Good tea by the way, did I thank you for the tea?”

“You did and don't worry. I'm not expecting a perfect answer. I just want to know what if anything she meant to you.”

“Oh OK, can I say a lot and we hug it out and that's the end of it?”

“Not really. Is that what you'd prefer?”

“Honestly?”

“Yeah.”

“Well yeah, but I'm the adult and you're the child. Yes, before you say it, I know you're a young woman but you'll always be my child just like I'm your Nana and Grandpa's child so deal with it and don't roll those eyes at me. So I need to suck it up and be a man and a good role model and do something alien and talk about my feelings?”

Amber didn't roll her eyes, instead she nodded her head in agreement. Well we know what she inherited from her mother growing up. Maybe don't point out her stubbornness and where she gets it from he says making a mental note to himself.

“I fell for her compassion, her humanity, her drive, the fact that I wasn't the smartest person in the room when she was present in it. I think in my adult life I've had that maybe three or four times at the most. That's not to claim I'm a genius but there's not many people I've ever felt inferior to since I left school.”

“You felt inferior to mum?”

“Jesus who doesn't Amber? I mean she's brilliant at what she does. I could never do what she does.”

“Hmmmm. I guess you're right. It's easier to be your daughter than it is to be her daughter.”

“Oh erm I'm not sure how to take that?”

“Poorly phrased?”

“Well maybe a little. Give me one of those biscuits and I'll see if they help with forgiveness.”

“You're such an idiot Dad,” Amber tells him before duly obliging and handing over the packet.

“Ah yes your mum did point it out once or twice when we were together. I'd always hoped you'd never notice,” he says, chuckles to himself and stuffs an entire biscuit into his mouth allowing himself some time to not have to speak.

“Do you miss Mum?”

He points at his mouth to indicate it being full, however he knows this will only buy himself a few extra seconds. Did he miss her? He had stopped counting the time they'd been apart. It didn't matter to him any more like it had done once upon a time. When they'd first separated it had killed him. He'd always thought it would have been easier if one of them had been seeing someone else. In truth they'd just drifted apart. She wanted something else and he wasn't it, there was no room at the inn. She didn't want him to change or to be someone he wasn't. She simply didn't need him. Whilst that came as a hammer blow at the time over the years it became more of a blessing. Especially on the odd occasion he'd dipped his toe into the dating pool and found that most women want to change him. Why couldn't they just find a man they liked? Why must women be like men who owned cars in the 70s and 80s, always with the bonnet up trying to tinker about? You do you and I'll do me.

Finally having finished his mouthful and the rest of his mug of tea, because why not, he replies simply by saying “Not any more. I used to. I'd lose hours at a time thinking about her. For the longest time just watching you when you'd come to visit was the biggest reminder for me. Falling in love is easy any idiot can do that. Staying in love is hard work. Falling out of love comes easier for some than it does for others. I didn't want to stop loving your mum. Then I came to a point where I wondered if I could claim I had the right to love her. I always tried to make sure you knew you were loved though maybe I was guilty of smothering you with too much love and if I did I'm sorry. Maybe you got the excess because I had no other outlet for it? You meet someone and you think you can't love them anymore, your heart is fit to burst. Then you have a child and it's like that programme you used to watch with the aliens and the man in the blue box.”

“What … Doctor Who?”

“Doctor Who, yes! That's the one. When you're a parent, a father, you grow another heart to fit all the extra love you didn't know you'd need room for.”

“Oh, two hearts. Clever. I wondered where you were going with that analogy.”

“Sorry I'm not very good with up to date cultural references.”

“To be fair Dad I've probably not watched it since I was 8 or 9.”

“OK fair point but you knew what I meant though all the same?”

“Well you've got me there.”

“Happens occasionally. Is there anything else you'd like to know?”

“Loads.”

“Oh,” came his reply and he tried to cover his mouth with his hands before the words left his lips but it was too late. “Sorry,” he adds looking sheepishly at her.

If she took offence she was hiding it well. Maybe she had the answers she needed for now. He'd answered her honestly, or at least she thought he had. There wasn't any malice in his words. She figured a lot of people in the same situation would have taken the opportunity to bad mouth the other but he hadn't once said anything of the sort.

“Don't worry it doesn't have to be today. Thank you for being honest with me,” she tells him which makes him smile and feel less guilty for the Oh which had shot out of his mouth like an unexpected sneeze.

“Cuddle?” He asks her.

She nods, and he can still see his little girl that would fall off her bike and still needs her daddy to make it all better and he duly obliges, getting off his chair and pulling her in tight to his embrace. Her head buries into his chest, his right hand cups the back of her head and he holds her tight making sure she knows she's loved and protected whilst it's still his job to do so. One day he'll pass on the mantle and hopefully she'll find someone who loves her in the way he did with her mum even if she decides in the same way that whoever they might be isn't what she needs anymore.