Chapter 8

“Paul, what kind of lady do you like?” Sabrina asked me one day out of the blue.

I immediately thought of Mary’s dark cap of hair.

We were painting Sabrina’s bedroom walls with a beautiful salmon paint with accents in a bright shade of sunny yellow. She had chosen the colors herself. She had paint on the tip of her nose, her cheeks, her hands, and her arms.

“I don’t care much about looks, but personality,” I answered sincerely.

However, the image of Mary’s long legs and small round breasts came to my mind. I hadn’t been sexually active in a long time. It was good to know I could still lust after a woman.

“Just a plain hometown girl,” I added.

“There are a lot of the women like this in Middleton. How come you don’t date?”

“I’m not what you’d call a great catch.”

“But you’ll never get married this way. Even I know you have to date before you can hit a home run.”

“Where did you hear that?” I narrowed his eyes.

“I overheard some older girls at my school talking about it.”

“What do you think a home run is?”

“Getting married.”

I breathed out a sigh of relief. “No, it’s not that.”

“Then it must be sex. I wasn’t sure. But you guys kind of need that, too, right?”

“What? No ... Well, yes ... but ... You should talk with your mother about this.”

“I already know about the birds and the bees, silly.”

That started Sabrina on another fit of laughter that was so contagious I joined her.

“Mom said you were married before.”

“Yes, I was.”

“Why did she divorce you?”

“Do you know what cheating is?”

She nodded. “It’s when you copy your answers from someone else in a test.”

“That’s right. Cheating is when a person acts dishonestly on purpose. My ex-wife cheated on me.”

“She lied to you.”

“Yes, she did. She went looking for another husband while she was still married to me.”

Sabrina shook her head.

“Why did she do that? You’re a good man. I like you.”

“Thank you, Sabrina, I like you too. To answer your question, she was looking for someone who earned more money than me.”

“Mom and I don’t have a lot of money. People say we are poor. You were poor too?”

“We lived a bit better than your mom and you, but we weren’t rich. Our lifestyle wasn’t enough for her. I suppose she would say we were poor.”

“Why?”

“She wanted a bigger house, a better car, diamond jewelery, designer clothing, and so on. Some women are like that. They always want better.”

“Not all of them. Mom is not like that,” Sabrina said, eyeing my reaction.

“Your mom is a great person.”

“Do you like her?”

“I do.”

“Are you going to marry her and be my dad?” Sabrina’s eyes lit up.

I put my hand on Sabrina’s shoulder and said, “I’m not sure your mom would want me as her husband.”

“Why not?”

“I’m crabby. I have trust issues. I’ll never be rich.”

“You’re not crabby, you’re funny. You have lots and lots and lots of patience with me. Besides, who needs to be rich? We’re happy.”

Sabrina threw herself into my arms and painted my back in sunny yellow.

“I would choose you to be my dad in a heartbeat,” she whispered in my ear.

“Thank you, Sabrina. For what is worth, I’d choose you to be my daughter.”

That brought a huge smile to Sabrina’s face.