Love Among the Pizza Boxes

When I was younger my father and I would always talk about vintage cars because he was always working on one in his garage. It was a 1968 Firebird. And it was blue. But he never got it finished.
I bet it’s still sitting in that garage of his.
Sometimes, after school, he would let me work on it with him.
You know, like tighten a bolt or something.
And we would drink root beer and beer beer and we would sit and talk and laugh.
He helped me build that little boat, too.
The one that I use to go out to the island.
I really miss those days.
I’m thinking about all this as I’m sitting in Pizza Hut, watching a fly buzz about the front window.
I really don’t know what I do as owner.
But I do know I have to sit here and take questions Bethany and Mary the manager don’t feel like answering.
Ding ding goes the front door bell.
I don’t look away from that stupid fly.
There’s an awkward silence.
“Riku?”
Another awkward silence.
I look at the person who just walked in.
“…Dad?” I say stupidly.
He half-smiles.
So that’s where I get it from.
“Hey, buddy,” he says back.
“Uh… Hi.”
Blink.
Blink.
“What’re you doing here?”
Another smile.
“I was actually wondering if you’d like to go out for coffee with me, son.”
Blink.
Blink.
Son?
“Uh… Sure.”
So I stand up and we walk over to Starbucks, which is right next door.
He gets a venti drip decaffe coffee with no room for cream.
I get a grande black coffee with room. I add creamer and honey.
We sit.
We stare.
…
Awkward.
“So, son, how has life been?”
Blink.
“It’s been pretty good. I’m the owner of Pizza Hut now.”
He laughs.
He already knew that.
“What else has been going on?”
“… Um… I got a dog.”
“Really? What kind?”
I clear my throat, embarrassed. “Uh, Chihuahua.”
Dad snorts.
“Her name is Virginity.”
He snorts again.
“Ginny for short.”
“What about girls? You got a little lady in your life?”
I raise my eyebrows.
Did he just say ‘little lady’?
“Actually, I have a little man in my life.”
…..
“Just kidding. Her name is Shayla.”
Dad breathes a sigh of relief. “Oh thank God,” he says under his breath. He speaks up. “Tell me about her, son.”
“Well… She works at the observatory. She helped me come up with Ginny’s nickname. Um… She’s got these… eyes. They, like, stare deep into your soul. Your deepest secrets. You know?”
….
“Dude, you are so whipped,” Dad says.
Coffee goes up my nose.
Did he just say ‘dude’?
…Did he just say ‘whipped’?
“Ha. Funny, Dad.”
We continue talking like this for a while.
An hour or two at least.
We talk about Shayla, and work, and Gary the doorman and Bethany, and Virginity, and virginity, and about his new girlfriend, Dorris, and about the old times.
“Hey, speaking of old times, I have something I want to show you,” Dad says to me once our coffee is gone.
I blink. “Okay?”
So we get into his car and I feel like I’m totally ditching work, but I honestly don’t mind.
Nor do I really care.
And we arrive at his house and get out of his car.
“What are we doing here, Dad?” I ask a bit skeptically.
He replies by opening the garage door.
“Remember that old Firebird I was fixing up when you were younger?”
And then I see it.
And it’s all done and painted blue with white racing stripes
“Well, it’s finally done.” Dad smiles slyly. “And I want you to have it.”
My heart skips a beat.
No frickin’ way.
“No frickin’ way.”
“Yes fricking way,” Dad laughs, and tosses me the keys.
I catch them and excitedly get in the car.
I feel like a kid in a candy store.
God, this is so cool.
It’s got dark gray leather interior and a really nice stereo and that’s about all I can tell you because I’m not good at describing things, especially cars.
But I can promise you this – it’s damn awesome.
“What do you think?” Dad’s head pops up in the drivers’ window.
“This is awesome! Thanks, dad!”
And suddenly my dad doesn’t really seem like that bad of a person.
Like he really does care about things other than drinking and his new girlfriend and retirement.
Like he really does think of his son now and again.
I know what you’re thinking – it’s just a car, Riku.
But it’s really not.
It’s more than that.