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“Dad?”
There's no answer. Rachel can hear a blender going inside; he must not be able to hear her. She digs her own keys out of her hoodie pocket and finds the old key to his place. She lets herself in and heads to the kitchen.
“This has kale. No one likes kale.” She can hear her dad say as she reaches the door. He's in sweat pants and a tee shirt and bedroom slippers. Standing in front of him is a young man holding a smoothie. He's attractive with dark hair and nice shoulders. Something's up with his eyes though, they almost look orange from this angle. And are those pajamas he's wearing?
“It's healthy; you need to eat more fruits and vegetables,” The young man says, passing Daniel the glass. “You can drink it while you take a walk.'
“Or I can make coffee.”
“The doctor recommends thirty minutes of physical activity a day.”
Rachel watches as her dad hooks a finger in the loop of the man's pants and tugs him forward. He murmurs something in his ear. The young man rolls his eyes, then smiles. “Later, if you behave.” Then he kisses Daniel on the cheek.
Rachel does not want to know. She does not want to know.
“Hi Daddy!” she blurts loudly.
Her father and the man turn to look her way. The man does indeed have orange eyes. And okay, whatever. People can wear whatever weird contacts they like. Daniel drops his hand from the man. The man studies her with his gaze, before glancing toward Daniel. They look at each other a moment and say nothing, but it certainly feels like they are communicating something.
“Hi sweetie; I didn't know you were stopping by.”
“Clearly,” she says dryly.
Rachel glances toward the young man. He's younger than her! Mid to late twenties, most like. She just celebrated her 30th birthday. It sent her on a spiral of despair, grief for her wasted youth and all the things she never did. Then she sobered up. Still, it was a reminder of her mortality, and with it, she thought of her father's. He's sick, and she doesn't know how much time they have left. She wants to make things right before he goes.
“This is Armand; he's an old friend,” Daniel says. He looks back at Armand for a second, giving him a Look. Rachel isn't sure what it means, but she's seen her mom do something similar to her stepdad enough to recognize its intimacy. “Armand, this is my youngest, Rachel.”
“Pleasure to meet you.” The voice is smooth like velvet and sweet like honey. And yeah, Rachel gets it. He's hot. Her father is old. Sure, she would have assumed this problem would be more lady-shaped, if it were to occur. How can she bring it up and still sound supportive? She hardly cares if he's gay or bi or whatever. But she doesn't want him taken advantage of by some gold digger. Especially when he hasn't got any gold to dig, not really.
“Uh-huh,” she says and crosses her arms. She really wants to grill this guy. Find out what he's about. She's never felt particularly protective of her father, their relationship has been strained since the divorce with her mom. But he's her dad and he's sick.
“What are you doing here, Rach?”
Rachel shrugs. “You know, it's been awhile.”
Before Daniel can answer—and she wants to hear his answer, she does—his phone rings. “I gotta take this,” he says, then glances between the two of them. “Play nice.”
As soon as he steps out of earshot Rachel snips “So do you call him Daddy too?”
Armand's face is expressionless.
“Never mind, low hanging fruit,” Rachel continues. “How long have you and my dad known each other?”
“Oh, years now,” Armand says, moving to the cupboard. He pulls down the can of coffee and starts the machine. It's new; Rachel has never seen it before. It has more buttons than can possibly be necessary.
“How many years?” she asks, then “You aren't one of his students are you?”
Armand tilts his head. “You believe your father would sleep with one of his students?”
“If they look like you, maybe,” Rachel says, then winces at the confirmation. “So you are sleeping together.”
“Does that bother you?”
Rachel glances out the door. Daniel is still speaking into the phone. She closes the door and turns to face him. “Real talk, aren't you a little young for him? Because trust me, fucking someone old enough to be your dad doesn't fix your daddy issues. I would know.”
Boy, would she know.
Armand chuckles lightly. “My relationship with my father wasn't lacking.”
Oh. Wasn't lacking. Past tense. Great. So he's probably fucking her dad because his own dad is dead and he has unresolved trauma around it or something. Who knows? But now she's a dick for bringing it up. “Can I ask why? I mean, what's in it for you?”
“Is your father not enough?”
That's a loaded question that Rachel doesn't want to answer. She'd rather not discuss all the ways her father failed her with his new...whatever this was. She sighs. “My mom was his midlife crisis. I don't know what you are.”
“You believe I'm taking advantage of him.” He says it simply, without malice.
“Are you?”
Something shifts in his expression and he looks toward the door behind her. “I believed I was, once. Then with time, I came to love Daniel.” His gaze returns to her, meeting her eyes. “That's what you want to know, isn't it? If I care for him as he does me?”
“I-yes.” Rachel feels uncertain now. There's something in Armand's voice that sounds honest. But then, the best liars did.
“The answer is yes. I plan to love your father until the end of his days, which I'm aware are fewer than mine. We are making the best of the time that remains.”
Rachel nods. She isn't sure if she believes him or not, but what was the harm in letting her dad be happy? He did seem happy.
She points a finger at him. “If you hurt him, I will find you and end you.”
Armand laughs. Rachel doesn't see what's so funny. “No, but Daniel is concerned for his relationship with you. He will be pleased to know you care so much.”
Rachel wants to tell him that her father will never know of this conversation, but the door opens and her father steps in. His eyes go to Armand's and they look at each other for a moment. Whatever he sees in Armand's face must reassure him, because he visibly relaxes.
It'll be okay. Her dad is happy. Everything else will sort itself out.