Cindy's Dad WSF2023 Just for fun

Cindy cracks open a can of Foster's.

I sit under the back porch with Todd, my childhood best friend. It's not that I wasn't opposed to catching up with Todd at our upcoming 10-year high school reunion. But he doesn't know about my father's death.

Oh, and what I have yet to tell Todd.

Carrying a meat tray. "I managed to get to the butcher before closing time," Todd mutters.


Our friendship ended in our teens. I told him we needed to grow up and never spoke after that. Recently, from stalking his personal Instagram account, I never understood his blend of nerdy interests and embracing the great outdoors. Heck, a long-shot Instagram message is how I contacted him.


Todd pops the tray in the blue esky. "Cindy, if you won't tell me what is bothering you, is it too much for you to explain why you took me to your family's empty holiday home?"

"After you mentioned Dan, I didn't hesitate to take time off work, but that was three days ago." Todd sighs and eyes the portable gas barbeque.

Dan was just Dad to me.

Cindy plunks her beer into a stubby holder. She can't avoid Todd's glaring blue eyes and high cheeks staring at the bay. Waves crash onto the white sandy shore.

"A drunk driver took out My Dad. It was a hit and run." Cindy adjusts her square glasses.

"The doctors couldn't save him, and he died on the operating table." She wipes tears away from her pale cheeks.

"Cindy, I am so sorry." Todd's jaw drops, and Cindy eyes his legs turning to jelly.

"Dan was like a father to me." He tumbles onto his chair.

"Long after we left school, we lost touch. But Dan still found time for me." Todd buries his face in the palm of his hands.


Dan rarely spoke about his absent father, but I know he is a drunk and a wife-basher.

"Time to crank up the Barbie." Cindy removes Barbie's black lid and shoves the ignition button.


Over beers with tears, laughter and cooking snags, Cindy and Todd share their memories of her old man. Todd pops through the backdoor and returns with packets of disposable plates, cutlery, and a salad bowl.

Todd shuffles his feet on the red brick pavement. "I had forgotten how Dan took us swimming on Boxing Day. When I stayed with you, he welcomed me like a son. But why did you wait to tell me about his passing?"

Cindy raises a brow, and her brown eyes widen.

"Cindy, I remember that look, even if I was a foot shorter when I last saw it." Todd's deep voice still catches Cindy off guard.

"Dad, Dan, left his beloved tin shack to the both of us." Cindy lets out a breath.

"Struth. I hope Dan knew what he meant to me, but." Todd's voice trails off, and he grits his teeth.

So much for Todd knowing why our Dad expected us to stay under the same roof, surely, he couldn't have known if Todd would want to sell the property!

Cindy balances a plate of tucker on her lap. She shares a look with Todd.

We have a lot of ground to cover, but where to start?

"Todd, care for more potato salad?"

"I am stuff full, but why not?" Todd nods.

The End

That was beautiful.

It really was.

a reply to: xpert11
That, I think would benefit from being a not so short one

Maybe a serial?

MaxMars and SprocketUK, thanks. SprocketUK, I am considering story ideas for the next instalment in my tale.