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WESTON I check my watch for the fifth time, reaching into my pocket for my phone to check it as well. No missed texts or calls. Our flight leaves in less than thirty minutes. Fuck! I shouldn’t have said what I said to her. I shouldn’t have kissed her, but I couldn’t deny myself any longer. I’m not surprised she isn’t coming; I probably scared her. “Something bothering you, son?” My father doesn’t look up from his newspaper. “No,” I lie. “Your mother mentioned a young lady coming along to attend to Daisy?” This time he pulls the paper down, his eyes peering over the top of his reading glasses like he used to do when I was in trouble as a teenager. “Possibly, yes. Daisy’s schoolteacher.” “And what happened to the nanny?” I don’t like his insinuating tone. My father and I get along, but that’s about it. I certainly don’t take any sort of fatherly or relationship advice from the man. I try to keep it strictly business. “She quit. She wasn’t long-term anyway; she graduated college and moved