Morgan's Chase 1 (Power Play)

by Lucy St. John

Chapter 12

  Their fun feast of stringy, saucy and delicious pizza only extended the comfort zone surrounding Morgan and her children. It was an hour’s worth of good-natured one-liners and spontaneous laughs – along with a record-breaking absence of awkward pauses, pouted lips and angry defenses.

  Then, just as they were ordering boxes for the hemisphere of uneaten pizza, Morgan’s one and only father burst into the restaurant, eliciting a chorus of good-natured calls of his universally known nickname: “Big Al.”

  Morgan’s father exchanged a torrent of good-natured backslaps and shouted, enthusiastic greetings with nearly everyone at the bar. The commotion was too big to ignore. Geoff swung his head around and instantly recognized his grandpa, even though Morgan was less than diligent about visiting her side of the family.

  It didn’t matter. Big Al would not be denied. Over the years, he had concocted a series of never-ending excuses to pop over to the house, a pattern that only increased following Morgan’s separation and divorce. Big Al’s ploy to dispatch Travis to remodel Morgan’s kitchen was just the latest example of his constant meddling.

  But what Morgan saw as interference, her children, especially Geoff, longed for as welcomed interactions with a fun family member with seemingly no agenda but doting on his grandchildren.

  “Papa!” Geoff chimed from his seat.

  Instantly, Big Al broke off his conversation and squinted his eyes in the direction of the familiar voice. The loveable grandfather feigned ignorance at the source of his summons.

  “Who’s that?” Al boomed from across the restaurant. “Do I know you?”

  “It’s me, Papa,” Geoff called. “Over here.”

  Al made a show of walking uncertainly toward the table of seeming strangers.

  “It can’t be,” the robust 60-something said. “That’s not my favorite grandson in my favorite pizza joint, now is it?”

  “Yes!” Geoff giggled, as his seemingly bewildered grandfather stumbled closer to the table.

  “By darned, if it isn’t,” Al said as he drew closer. “And my favorite granddaughter, to boot!” Al added.

  Samantha smiled, despite herself.

  “But this isn’t possible,” Al continued the charade as he stepped closer. “It can’t be. No, it isn’t.” A disbelieving father was focused on his daughter, now.

  Morgan refused to meet her father’s eyes. She looked at her lap and frowned.

  “Not my highfalutin, high-society, ‘better-than-us-Monroeville-mongrels’ daughter?” Big Al played it for all it was worth. And just like the little girl under the intensity of her boisterous, braggadocios father’s white-hot spotlight, Morgan’s cheeks turned crimson. She absolutely hated that Al could still do this to her.

  “What in the world could she be doing here?” Al continued.

  It was a good question. Morgan raised her head and locked in on Travis like a laser.

  “You’re in on this,” she accused. “You took us here because my father told you to. This is a set-up.”

  Travis chuckled, raising both palms in a show of utter innocence.

  “Not guilty,” he pleaded, his eyes crinkling and sparkling with irresistible warmth. “I can’t help it if your father and I have the same taste in pizza. Besides, you’re the one who came home early and suggested it.”

  “I suggested ordering in,” Morgan corrected sternly.

  “Wasn’t this better?” Travis goaded. “Come on, Morgan. Admit it.”

  Morgan’s stubborn mouth resisted answering.

  “It was,” she grudgingly allowed. “Until now.”

  But it was too late. Big Al and the gravitational pull of his out-sized personality were upon them all now.

  The fit but barrel-chested firefighter-grandfather scooped Geoff right off his seat, bounced him in the air, then pulled him close.

  “You didn’t eat all the pizza, did you?” Big Al mockingly accused.

  Geoff violently swung his head from side to side.

  “Saved some for me, did you?” Al asked.

  Geoff vigorously nodded.

  “Good,” Al said. “That’s a good grandson. Saving some pizza for his hungry, ol’ Pap.”

  “Dad, he just ate.” Morgan shot her father a disapproving look from under low, furrowed brow. Her father didn’t even notice.

  “Oh, he’s okay,” Al shrugged it off. “Aren’t ya?”

  Geoff nodded again.

  “Can’t baby a big guy like this,” Al corrected. “Not if he wants to be a tough, smoke-eating firefighter like his Pap.”

  Geoff’s smiled widened as Morgan’s annoyance grew.

  “I’m sure Geoff is going to do something with computers,” Morgan said.

  “That geeky, bookworm stuff?” Al scoffed, making a face at Geoff and ignoring his daughter. “That’s not man’s work. That’s not for guys like you and me.”

  “He isn’t like you, Dad,” Morgan announced to no avail.

  “And what about this young lady?” Al asked, lowering Geoff to his seat and turning his attention to Samantha.

  “Bet all the boys are after you?” the grandfather asked. “I bet you’re beating them off with a stick, aren’t ya?”

  Samantha forced an embarrassed, uncertain giggle. “No,” she said shyly, then looked at her lap.

  “Sure you are,” her grandfather prodded, reaching down and gently tweaking his granddaughter’s reddening cheek. “Pretty sweetheart like you.”

  Samantha glanced up at her grandfather with a shy, break-your-heart look as the red in her cheeks bloomed.

  “Dad, you’re embarrassing her,” Morgan admonished. “We don’t encourage dating at her age.”

  Al acknowledged his daughter’s protests for the first time. He stared at her with an expression of absolute innocence.

  “I’m not encouraging her,” he pleaded. “Heck no. I think pretty, little Samantha, here, should stay away from those badgering boys for as long as she can. If she were my little girl, why I’d put her under lock and key. There’s no one good enough for my baby. Not until Pappy Al, here, has a chance to check them out. See what they’re all about. Isn’t that right, Samantha?”

  Al tweaked her cheek again. Samantha smiled at her lap.

  “Well, she’s not your little girl, Dad,” Morgan said.

  “I know,” Al sullenly said. The sudden swing in his emotional state was disorientating. But Morgan knew it was all part of her father’s act.

  “I’m just her poor, old Pap,” he said. “What do I know?”

  “Good to see you, Al.” Travis reached out his hand to his friend, trying to change the subject.

  Al took the extended lifeline of Travis’s hand and shook it vigorously.

  “You, too, my friend,” Al said. “You must be one heck of a handyman if you got my daughter to come way out here.”

  Al swung his gaze back to Morgan. “This here’s a fine man, yes sir,” he said, nodding toward Travis. “Don’t pull that bossy stuff with him, the way you do with your Old Man. This here’s a guy you want on your side.”

  Morgan frowned, but for the first time tonight she suspected her father was right.

  “Thanks, Dad,” Morgan said.

  “Wow!” Al exclaimed. “That’s something I don’t hear too much. I’ll tell you, Travis, I don’t know what you did, but there might be hope yet for my little girl, here.”

  “Morgan’s great,” Travis said. She raised her head to see him staring right back at her. “Anything I can do to help, I’m there.”

  Al seemed to notice the unstated connection and chemistry between Travis and his daughter. He knew better than to toy with this, something that he had helped to create.

  “Sorry, folks,” Al announced. “Gotta go. Pizza won’t do, if it’s cold.”

  “Bye, Papa,” Geoff intoned. Al reached out his ham-sized fist to bump knuckles with his grandson.

  “So long little lady,” Al said, as he stooped down to kiss shy Samantha on a cheek.

  “You wat
ch out for my family,” Al said to Travis. The two clasped hands again.

  Al pivoted, swung in and planted a quick kiss on Morgan’s cheek, just like he did when she was a little girl. And despite everything, Morgan felt nothing but love for him then.

  “Bye, Love,” her father said. “Try not to be so hard on yourself.”

  With that, Big Al walked to the cash register, where he exchanged twenty dollars for two big boxes of pizza, then barged out the door into the chilled spring night.