It took Roy a bit of nerve to ask his friend out for dinner—for a casual dinner. Nothing fancy, just two longtime friends reconnecting, totally not a date. He kept it casual—so casual, in fact, that he ended up picking a restaurant that was a tad too upscale and dressing up in a two-piece suit. He even tried to pull his hair back to give himself a cleaner look. Clearly, he was hoping to make an impression.

The evening had been carefully planned. Everything was supposed to go smoothly. A nice meal, good conversation, absolutely no disasters.

And then Lian showed up. 

Food was spilled. Wine drenched his suit. A fork somehow went flying across the room. Lian bombarded his guest with far too many nosy questions, and—because she was his daughter, after all—she took great pleasure in sharing every embarrassing detail about him she could think of. By the time Roy was sitting there, red-faced and drowning in humiliation, security had already been called.

“You were supposed to stay at Wally’s,” Roy tried to scold her. He held his girl’s arm, still replaying the events from the restaurant in his mind. “You’re grounded.”

But as the night couldn’t get worse, it started to rain, soaking his already wine-stained suit, turning his attempt at a clean, put-together look into a drenched mess.

His six-year-old tornado of a daughter walked to his date, speaking again to the latter. Her smile widened. “You know, dad always tries to look extra cool when you’re around.”

Roy’s soul left his body. “No!” (yes.) 

He opened his mouth, ready to groan, to defend himself, but then he stopped. His gaze landed on his friend—smiling, amused, not running away. His daughter seemed happy. His friend seemed happy. It was raining, the date got ruined. And yet, somehow… he suddenly didn’t mind so much.