Tinder Ella: A Modern Day Single Dad Fairy-Tale

by Eddie Cleveland

  We make our way to the elevator in silence. The ding of the metal doors sliding open for us is absurdly loud in the noiseless vacuum we’ve created. Cameron pushes the buttons and we wordlessly travel up to the eleventh floor.

  Ding!

  Dad and I follow Cameron’s lead, down the hall to his room. I can’t stop wondering what this is about. Is there some bad news he needs to give to us? Is he dying? I shake the thoughts from my head and settle down on the couch in the living area of my brother’s hotel room.

  “What’s up, Dad?” Cameron prompts our father to break his tense silence and spill it. However, Dad just looks out the window at the twinkling lights of the city below.

  “You’ve got a beautiful view here,” he marvels.

  “Did you really want to admire the sights, or was there something you wanted to talk about?” I don’t mean to snap at him. However, the residue of the last talk I had with my father is still clinging to my heart. Like plaque.

  Dad clears his throat loudly and turns around. His eyes are watery and his cheeks are flushed. I instantly feel remorse for giving the old man attitude. Obviously, something is going on with him. I should zip my lips and let him talk at his own pace.

  “You’re right, just nervous I guess,” he slides his hands down over his pants and walks slowly to the couch, sitting down beside me. Cameron plops himself down in the chair opposite us, never taking his eyes off our father.

  “Why are you nervous?” I can see my brother’s wheels spinning as he ponders the same questions I was just sifting through a minute ago. “Dad, are you ok?” His voice is soft, like he’s afraid to ask the question.

  “Yes, I am. Well, I will be. I just needed to talk to my boys. It’s just,” he takes a deep, unsteady breath and looks from Cameron to me, “I wanted to say I’m sorry to you two.” His words are shaky and don’t make sense to my ears. My father never apologizes. At least, not for as long as I can remember.

  “Sorry?” I repeat the word like it’s foreign.

  “What for, Pops?” Cameron tilts his head.

  “Boys, I’ve had a lot of time to think over the past couple of months. Cameron, you’ve got your first child, my first grandchild on the way and I guess it’s been getting me thinking. I’m an old man now, I’ve had a long life to reflect on.”

  “Oh, come on, you’re not that old, Dad,” Cameron rolls his eyes.

  “Maybe not, but you two are grown men now and it’s easy to look back and think about all the mistakes I’ve made raising you both. Cameron, I wasn’t very supportive of you going after your football dream, and look at you,” Dad raises his hand like he’s trying to lift my brother in the palm of his hand, “you made it in the NFL. I told you before how proud I am of you, but I can’t say it enough. I’m glad you didn’t listen to me,” Dad looks up at my brother with shining eyes. I stare at Cameron too, and raise a questioning eyebrow. He never told me that he and my father had a heart-to-heart while I was in rehab. I guess I missed a lot while I was away.

  The memory of my father yelling at me on Family Day while I was in rehab comes back to me with a stinging slap. I set my jaw and lower my eyes to the floor as I watch him storm out of the room, out of my recovery and out of my life all over again in my mind.

  “Jake,” Dad interrupts the memory, “I didn’t treat you right when you went to Canada to get help, son. I was just so shocked by your addiction and you getting in trouble that I didn’t even focus on the part that mattered the most. That you got the help you needed. I’m proud of you for doing what you needed to get back on track so you can go back to being the best Navy SEAL you can be,” his chin lifts with pride as he says that last part. Something inside me wants to take that away from him. To leave him feeling as crushed as he left me when he stomped out of Edgewood that day.

  “I’m not staying with the SEALs, Dad,” I answer calmly.

  “What?” He twists fully around on the couch so he’s facing me straight on, his face is contorted like he just stepped on a nail.

  “I’m not re-upping. My contract runs out in a couple of months and I’m moving on with my life. It’s what’s best for me, for my sobriety, for my peace of mind, and for Holly.” I tap on a finger for each thing on my list. Dad opens and closes his mouth like a goldfish, but for once he doesn’t have anything to say. I’ve got to admit, it feels good to watch him grapple with my words. To take away something that meant so much to him… too much to him. Just like he was so quick to take away his love as soon as I hit a speed bump on my life’s path.

  “You never told me that,” Cameron darts his eyes over to me.

  “This is your time. I didn’t want to make it all about me,” I confess with a shrug.

  Dad sits up straighter, forcing his shoulders back. Here it comes. Let’s hear how I’m a fuck up. A failure. How he’s not proud of me, or worse.

  “Good,” he whispers, nodding his head. “That’s good, Jake,” he repeats louder.

  “What?” I feel my moment of victory deflate from my puffed-out chest as my father sticks a pin in it.

  “You know what’s best for you and your life,” Dad looks into my eyes, “I trust you know what you’re doing.” His voice grows more confident and more convincing. “Besides, I was wrong to push you both into the military anyway, and I know that’s why you both joined. I’m not even sure why I did that, if I really think about it,” Dad runs his hand over his thinning hair and stares out the hotel window for answers.

  “You didn’t force us to join. We wanted to,” I answer, but when I look over at my brother’s face, I can see that I might be wrong.

  “It wasn’t my first choice,” Cameron admits with a shrug.

  “I know,” Dad looks over at him. “And I was a pretty shitty father when you left too.” He answers.

  I remember how my father stopped talking to Cameron when he left the military to go back to university. Not like he completely froze him out as much as he started pretending he couldn’t really hear him. He stopped making conversation with him. He stopped showing an interest in his life. It was like, when Cameron moved on with his life, Dad held a funeral in his heart for the son he still wished Cameron would be. He never seemed to get over the grief, the betrayal, the anger. Whatever those phases of grief are, Dad never really seemed to get through them. It left a rift in their relationship for years.

  “And you,” Dad looks back at me, shaking me from my thoughts, “I know I pushed you to go Special Forces. I don’t know why, I’m not sure what I was thinking. I don’t know if you would’ve gone for the SEALs if I wouldn’t have been so stubborn about it,” he looks at me.

  “I’m not sure,” I look down at my hands. I’ve never thought about it before.

  “Boys, the thing is, you know we come from a long line of military. My grandfather made it to Master Sergeant back in his day. He only had a grade eight education too, so that was pretty good back then. Then he pushed my father to join, and your Granddad took his commission. He was so proud of that.” Dad shakes his head and his eyes water. “I never told either of you this before,” his voice grows thick, “but I never wanted to join the military. I mean, I did, I reached General and I’m proud of my time, but I never wanted that for my career,” he looks over at my brother and me.

  It’s hard to imagine my father in any other job, or having any other passions. He was always the kind of military dad that would give us ‘room inspections’ and dress us down like little soldiers when we got in shit. He was never one of those guys who hung it up at work at the end of the day and left his at the door when he got home. He was military through and through.

  “What did you want to do?” I break my silence.

  “Now, don’t laugh,” Dad looks at us sheepishly.

  “Uh, ok?” Cameron answers him, but I’m not making any promises.

  “I wanted to be a musician. I played guitar, and I was pretty good too. I was even writing my own songs. I told my father that was my dream and he hit the roof. He told me that I co
uld join the military and be a man or pursue my flaky dream and be an embarrassment,” Dad looks down at his wrinkled hands.

  “Why didn’t you get out, why did you go all the way to General?” I interrupt, twisting on the couch to face him straight on.

  “I’m not sure, I guess once I was in the life, I figured I might as well do my best. After a few years, it got harder and harder to imagine leaving a steady job for my dream, so I figured I’d get as far as I could in my career.”

  “That makes sense,” Cameron looks at me.

  “The thing is, I always hoped one day that my father would take it back, you know about my music being an embarrassment. You both remember when Pops was in his last days, how I went to see him in the hospital,” Dad looks up at our nodding faces. “He called me into his room and said, ‘Don, there’s something I need to tell you about your job,’ and I thought that the moment had finally come.” Dad stands up and walks over to the window before his emotions spill out. However, from where I’m sitting, I can see him wipe a tear away like a pesky mosquito that landed on his cheek.

  “What did he say?” I ask.

  “He told me that he was so proud of me for making it further than he ever did in the forces. He said I was a good man for following my calling,” Dad sighs.

  “Wow,” Cameron crosses his arms across his chest.

  “I didn’t have the heart to tell him that I missed my calling. That my dream was music. Instead, I’d spent my life living his dream for me. He was old and frail, I didn’t want to upset him,” he explains.

  “Do you regret that?” Cameron asks.

  “Not telling him?” Dad answers, his back still to us as he stares out into the night.

  “Yeah,” Cameron stands up.

  “No. I don’t regret not telling him,” Dad turns to face us and his eyes are glossy with tears threatening to fall. “I regret not pursuing the life that was meant to be mine,” he wipes his fingers over his eyes, pushing away his emotions. “That’s why I wanted to tell you boys, even though it’s late, I wanted to tell you now that I’m proud of you for doing what’s right for you. And, I hope you can forgive me,” he hangs his head like a tired, old dog.

  I jump to my feet and walk over to his side. Throwing my arms around him, I know I’m probably making my old man uncomfortable. Big hugs were never our thing. He’s about to get even more uncomfortable though, as Cameron joins me in giving our elderly father a big bear hug.

  “Of course, I forgive you,” my brother whispers.

  “It’s water under the bridge, Dad,” I agree. I give him a squeeze and then let him go.

  Dad looks up at us, his two little boys are all grown up now. Both of us towering over him.

  “I love you boys, and I couldn’t be more proud of you both.”

  “Thanks, Dad,” I push down the growing lump in my throat, surprised by how much those words mean to me. How much I needed to hear them from him. “I love you too.” I answer.

  It’s incredible to think of my father being a young man with a dream to play music. It’s hard to imagine him forging a path that was never truly his. I’ve been uncertain about what I’m going to do after my own military career comes to a close. I might not have all the answers, but I know one thing, as long as I have the love and support of my family, I look from my big brother’s face to my father’s and smile, I can do anything.

  38|Jake

  “So much for a quaint wedding,” I look around the ballroom at the crowd of ridiculously built guys dressed in tuxes and suits.

  “I think it’s nice that Cameron’s new teammates are here, it’s a show of solidarity, right” Holly’s beautiful blue eyes shine with happiness.

  I’m not sure about what exactly happened between her and her parents, but I’ve never seen her so relaxed. She has always been gorgeous, but tonight in her deep green dress and with new life breathed into her, she’s radiant. She looks like a princess from all of those fairy tales. If those princesses were innocent, sweet girls by day and wild vixens by night.

  “Of course, you’re right,” I take a page from my brother’s playbook about not arguing with your woman. I mean, sure Holly isn’t pregnant or my fiancée, but that doesn’t mean I can’t fix both of those things. I let my eyes travel over her milky skin, savoring her low-cut dress. It isn’t often I get to see her all dolled up, it’s not like there were a lot of opportunities to put on our Sunday finest in rehab. I might just need to start upping my game, taking her out to some high society events, or at least crashing them. If it means I get to see her looking like this, then it’s worth it.

  Not that I mind seeing her any way. In sweats, cuddled up to me on the couch. Naked, with my throbbing cock between her fat lips. I groan and stir in my seat, trying to adjust for the unexpected, immediate effect that image had on my body.

  God damn. I’m away from her for one night and I’m practically a horny teenager.

  She’s amazing.

  “How about we dance?” She looks at me in a way that could convince me anything she’s saying is worth doing. She could be asking me to run naked through an angry swarm of bees and I’d be stripping down without thought.

  Dancing isn’t the way I used to pick up the ladies. To say it’s not my strong suit is a tragic understatement. Yet, I find myself pulling out her chair and offering her my arm as we make our way to the dance floor together. I’m not here to pick up ladies, I’m here to make the love of my life happy. Who cares if I can’t dance? It’s not about that.

  The band is in the middle of playing another ‘oldie but goodie’ from God-knows-what era. I’m not certain, but I think any song that mentions ‘the twist’ is really more appropriate for a senior center’s annual New Year’s bash than a modern wedding. But what do I know?

  “I’m not sure you can handle my sweet moves, I mean, I’m not a professional dancer or anything, but you might find it hard to keep up,” I tease her.

  I lift my arms and try not to look like one of those inflatable tube-man balloons you see at car dealerships flailing about the discounted vehicles with my moves. From the look on Holly’s face, I’m pretty sure I’m failing. Hard.

  “Have you ever thought of doing Dancing with the Stars? I think they might just give it to you based on your audition alone,” she laughs. I love her laugh, the music of it lifts my heart.

  Thankfully, the song ends without me knocking Holly over or stepping on her white heels. We wait for the band to delve into the next song, but I stop in my tracks and stare at the stage as my father walks across it and whispers into the lead singer’s ear.

  What is he doing?

  Dad and the man talk, nodding their heads and clearly coming to some kind of agreement. Then, the band puts down their instruments and leaves my father front and center.

  I search the dance floor for Cameron. He’s standing a few feet away from the stage with his brand-new wife on his arm, giving our father the same perplexed stare that I can feel pasted on my own face.

  My father picks up one of the acoustic guitars the band left behind and makes his way to the mic. Now, this should be interesting. I can’t look away. I can’t blink. I don’t want to miss whatever this is that’s unfolding in front of my brother’s wedding reception.

  Dad leans into the mic too far and it sounds like thunder when he clears his throat. Ok, maybe I don’t want to watch this. It’s starting out like a train wreck. I search the room, pleading with my maker that no one is recording this on their phones. If my father is going to go down in flames, at least let him do it without it living forever on YouTube.

  “Ahem,” he clears his throat again, a look I’ve never seen is frozen on my father’s face. He looks afraid. “I, uh, well, I asked the band if I could play a song and they graciously agreed,” Dad holds up his hand to the retired band members sitting off to the side and the crowd claps uncertainly.

  “What’s he doing?” Holly whispers to me and I suddenly remember that she’s standing next to me. I’ve been so focused
on what is unfolding on the stage that the room around me almost disappeared.

  “I couldn’t tell ya,” I answer with a shrug, never taking my eyes off of him.

  “As you all know, my son Cameron married his beautiful bride, Chelsea today. Your mother and I couldn’t be happier for you, Son. We couldn’t have dreamed of a better daughter-in-law to welcome into our family,” Dad looks down at my brother, smiling. “And God willing, perhaps we’ll add another soon enough.” My father gives me a little wink. Normally, I’d feel awkward with the public pressure. Tonight, I just return his relaxed smile. The old man and I haven’t agreed on much over the years, but this is one time we see eye-to-eye.

  “Aww, that’s sweet,” Holly rests her head on my shoulder softly and our fingers weave together as we listen.

  “So, I wanted to come up here and give you guys a gift from the heart. I haven’t sung publicly in over forty years, but I felt like this was the perfect special occasion to come out of hiding. This song is an old one, it’s called ‘Father and Son’ by the artist known as Cat Stevens. He’s since changed his name, but the meaning of this song never did. It’s actually for both of my boys. Cameron, Jake, this one is for you,” Dad looks down at the guitar in his hands and begins to strum the slow tune and the couples surge together on the dance floor.

  I pull Holly into me, she leans her head against my chest and closes her eyes with a smile as we move in lazy circles around the dance floor.

  I lean down and kiss Holly on her forehead, letting the moment wash over me. Letting myself feel it for once. Letting my emotions drown all the pain, the cynicism, the history. “Holly?” I murmur.

  Dad’s voice is rich and overflowing with emotions as he belts out the words that must speak to him like they were written for the sole purpose of him singing them.

  A lump grows in my throat as I listen to my father sing the lyrics. His passion bleeds into every line, like he can finally express the lessons he’s always wanted to teach us, but only through this song.

  “I love you,” my voice cracks and I pull her close.