Fathers Day

Last week, my father said he might come and visit. He lives many hundreds of kilometres away and visits maybe once a year, usually because he wants to inspect a car or truck that someone's listed in the Trading Post. He only ever stays for one night.

I was excited when he said he might visit because it looked like he'd arrive today, on Fathers Day, which would be fortuitous. I was a little bit nervous, though, since it's only been a few weeks since the unexpected eruption when I yelled at Mum and Dad about wanting some acceptance of my relationship with Heather. Still, I thought it'd be all fine once we were all together in person, and I was looking forward to seeing him.

"Sunday will be great," I said. "I'm working all the time lately, but I've got Sunday off. And don't forget, Heather and I aren't at home, because we're house-sitting in New Farm. But Dad can come and stay with us there." We didn't make any solid plans, but it seemed likely that Dad would come.

On Friday night, I sat down at my desk at work and was just about to start for the night when a supervisor waved her arms about at me. I went over to her, and she handed me a Post-It note. "You just got a message. Um, your Dad just arrived at your house."

At this, my mouth dropped open and I made a strange yelping noise.

"Why is that so shocking?" asked the supervisor.

"Because he lives eight hours' drive away," I said, thinking: and because I'm stuck here for four hours while Dad and my girlfriend have to interact without me.

I called our house (not the place we're house-sitting) because I had a feeling Dad had gone to the wrong place. Sure enough, Emma answered, and told me that Dad had shown up unexpectedly on the doorstep. She'd called Heather, and sent Dad over to the New Farm house. There was nothing I could do, so I just tried not to think about the potentially awkward scene unfolding in New Farm.

After work, I headed home and found that Dad was asleep. He and Heather had sat around drinking coffee for a couple of hours and chatting, and now he was resting after his long drive. I woke him up (as he'd requested) and we talked for a while. I didn't bother asking him why he hadn't let me know he was coming, or why he went to the wrong house.

"Did you like your surprise?" Mum asked me on the phone the next day, meaning Dad's arrival.

"You need to tell me these things in advance, Ma," I told her. But I knew she wouldn't understand.

In the end, it was all fine, anyway. I had just been overly nervous and protective. Heather and Dad got along well, and it was really nice to see him so close to Fathers Day. With my parents living so far away and seeing us so infrequently, I think it's sometimes especially hard for them to get used to the idea of Heather and me being a couple. But this morning on the phone, Dad said,"What are you doing today? Are you and Heather just hanging around the house?"

And I really liked that. It means that now, when he imagines what I might do on a lazy Sunday, he's not just imagining what I might do. He's thinking about me and Heather.