Page 62 of Road Trip to the Riviera
Louis looks at me. He’s still boyish in his features, his clear, smooth skin; the prickle of stubble around his jaw seems out of place. My heart swells as I look at him and, once we’ve ordered drinks, I decide to broach the subject. It’s not going to be easy, but I’m his father. If it’s not my job to at least ask, then whose is it?
‘You know there’ll be another wedding later?’ he says before I can say anything.
‘The registry office?’
‘Yeah,’ he shrugs. ‘I thought maybe we could have more of a… you know, traditional stag do then. If you don’t think that’s greedy?’
‘Not at all!’ I smile, feeling relieved that he still wants to include me in his plans.
Then, ‘How you feeling about it all?’ I ask him.
He shrugs, grins. ‘OK, I guess.’
‘No cold feet?’
Louis’s expression hardens momentarily. ‘Is that something you should even be asking me?’
I shrug. ‘Just seeing how you are?’
He pushes his glass back and forth a little, watching the liquid ripple. ‘I suppose everyone gets them a bit,’ he says. ‘Cold feet, and that. But it’s only a wedding.’
‘Only a wedding! Louis, this is a lifetime commitment!’
‘I know.’ He colours. ‘I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just… the baby. I mean that’s a bigger commitment, right? That’s what will really tie us together for life.’
I nod. The kid is so much wiser than I am.
The menu’s a bit odd – far more haute cuisine than I’m used to, so I order the tuna as a starter, the only word I recognise. Louis follows suit.
‘Christ, Dad, did you see the prices?’ he blurts out once the waiter disappears.
‘It’s OK, it’s on me.’
‘I know, but still. Summer could have bought another wedding dress for the price of this.’
I feel my hands get hot. ‘Louis, do you need some money? For the wedding. I hadn’t thought…’
He shakes his head. ‘We’re OK. Gran gave us some.’
‘Still.’ I want to kick myself. All I’ve thought about since Louis’s engagement and then the call about the earlier-than-expected wedding is how it might affect me. The journey I’ll haveto make, the fact that I’m going to be someone’s father-in-law. Then the news of the baby, my impending grandfather status. Why hadn’t I thought to ask Louis if he needed support, financial or otherwise?
‘What’s wrong?’ Louis asks.
Before I can say anything, the waiter arrives and delivers two stark white plates with a reddish pile of fish and sauce, and a couple of things I don’t recognise in the centre. We take it in for a moment, then our eyes meet in mutual humour. We’ve always laughed at gourmet food, preferring burger restaurants or big eateries for our meetups.
‘Sorry,’ I say.
We both stick our forks in and actually, the food is divine. I find myself closing my eyes, savouring the salty tang, the sweet, fruity notes. There are a hundred flavours packed into that one forkful.
‘Oh, so this is what food is supposed to taste like!’ Louis quips.
We grin at each other, feeling a little silly in this lavish restaurant. The clientele around us have dressed up to the nines; we’re a little more casual in our chinos and jeans.
‘About what?’ Louis says, and I’m momentarily confused. ‘You said “sorry” before.’
‘Oh. Yeah.’ I set my fork down. ‘You know, I always thought I was an OK dad. An OK person…’
He opens his mouth to protest but I hold up a finger, I’m not finished.
