WILLOW
My dad wants to meet Aiden. He’s coming to school today to have lunch with us. We’re dinning at a quaint little restaurant right next to campus. While it’s not as fancy as the places my dad likes to frequent, it’s one of my favorites.
They usually serve all you can eat buffets. Meant dishes that go well with pasta and mashed potatoes. Even freshly baked bread, served with a side of stew.
“He’s going to hate me,” Aiden says for the umpteenth time. We’re close to the restaurant now. He had opted to drive his sports car, a last minute attempt to impress my dad.
Not that Cary Thompson cares much for cars. I doubt it would matter what kind of car Aiden drives. He would most likely drill Aiden with questions, to see if he’s the right fit for his daughter.
Because that’s what fathers
