Terrible Coffee

Rick told himself when he came home that day that it was supposed to be a normal day off. Just some housework that needed to be done, some terrible coffee, and maybe an old Western with Clint Eastwood in it later. However, as Rick had come to learn over the years, what he planned and what happened were not on the same spectrum anymore. Not accounting for the wrench that Havoc typically threw into the peaceful plan by chewing on the furniture like a puppy dog with a teething problem, Rick had not taken into consideration that Stephanie was also staying the night tonight.

Clara was 23 now. She could have gone to her apartment, but with Evan studying for his finals, she didn’t want to bother him. And that, Rick realized far too late, was mistake number one. His second mistake was pretending not to notice the fit of manic laughter that echoed down the hallways of the upstairs. Twenty-three...she knew better, right?

He had gone outside by the time Clara realized what Stephanie was planning. At first, Clara didn’t take it seriously until she saw Steph tracking him through the window while he mowed the lawn. There was no casual conversation about beekeeper age, or how handsome her father was, or how he could absolutely fulfil someone’s booktok fantasy. It was just Stephanie Brown, full of dumb decisions, and Clara, who absolutely could not learn a proper lesson if it didn’t include her father glaring at her.

"You’re serious?" Clara asked at least three times, while Stephanie pulled the laptop from the desk and set it on her lap to open it. "He’s going to murder us, and I’m pretty sure it’s a felony...isn’t it like, Stolen Valor or something?"

"Your father absolutely would not press charges on you. Glare at you, kick you out, maybe disown you, but press charges?" Steph scoffed, opening up the browser and several different tabs. "We’ve got OkCupid, ChristianMingle, Tinder, PlentyOfFish, and if you’re feeling really boring and safe, FarmersOnly."

"Why do you know all this?"

Steph shrugged nonchalantly. "I live with repressed teenage boys."

"Dad wouldn’t like the people on PlentyOfFIsh, he definitely isn’t the hit and run type--"

Steph looked up at her with a raised brow. "Isn’t your brother the result of a one-night stand?"

"I said he wasn’t the type, not that it hasn’t happened. Once doesn’t mean it’s a type. ChristianMingle feels safe, but maybe he shouldn’t be on there since he was kind of...brought back from the dead and all. That leaves OkCupid and FarmersOnly." Clara frowned and did a cursory search on her phone, then excitedly announced another site called SecondShot. "Okay, this one looks promising."

"Cool, now we need pictures. Something that says available, but not emotionally repressed." Steph announced triumphantly while she cracked her knuckles and started typing the profile. "You work on that, and I’ll do the hard work."

Clara slid through pictures; there were a lot of her dad looking happy, but none that didn’t include her or Ezra. She didn’t want her in the pictures because people tend to avoid them when there’s a pretty girl in them. Then she paused. "How about this one, with Keeper?"

"Perfect. Women love dogs. We need at least three."

She kept scrolling until she found another one of her dad while he was training Havoc. Havoc was mid jump, Rick with his hand raised in the air, beaming with pride that the dog listened to the command. Then she found him working on his motorcycle, covered in grease. "Okay, now, hear me out--"

"First, why do you have that? Second, why is he so hot for an old man? And third, and I cannot stress this enough, that’s perfect because it screams I make bad decisions but know exactly how to fix the problem after."

"Great, can I read the profile?" Clara inquired. Steph turned the screen for her.

NAME: Rick F.

AGE: 40

LOCATION: Midway City

HEIGHT: 6’4"

OCCUPATION: Military Contractor

LOOKING FOR:

A woman who will understand when a man says he’s fine, he isn’t. Someone who is quiet when needed and loud when correction is necessary. Kind, direct, patient, and not easily frightened by a man who gets the job done. Must be okay with large dogs, children, terrible coffee, and even more questionable choices in reading materials.

ABOUT ME:

I like to read assessments like it’s my job, take my dogs to the park, and read historical non-fiction. I have a pilot’s licence, and if you’re lucky, I can take you on a flight somewhere. I work for the military, so don’t be surprised about long hours and even longer time away from home. I am a divorced father.

I like quiet mornings, black coffee, good boots, reliable trucks, old houses, honest people, and dogs with better discipline than most adults. I am not great at small talk, but I will remember what matters. I will fix things without being asked, pretend I did not notice you noticed, and probably argue with you if you try to thank me too much.

I am not looking for chaos; the job fulfils that obligation. I am looking for someone steady enough to laugh when life gets strange, honest enough to say what she means, and stubborn enough not to let me get away with answering every emotional question with “it’s handled.”

IMPORTANT DISCLOSURE:

The dogs and the children are a package deal and, unfortunately, part of the infrastructure in the house. One of the children is old enough to know the consequences of her actions and has recently graduated from college. The other is too young to write his own name and has learned how to pull the dog’s tail. The two dogs are my security system; if they like you, that’s not exactly a glowing endorsement, it just means you passed the first gauntlet.

If you do not like dogs or children, please consider this your formal excuse to leave.

HOBBIES AND INTERESTS:

Coffee strong enough to melt a metal spoon. Dogs, training dogs, pretending the dogs are not running my life. Long drives with no particular destination (and horrible music, that’s a bonus). Woodworking, fixing things, and quietly improving broken objects without making it a big deal (not including myself or Quinn). Reading military history, local history, and whatever book my daughter leaves in my house. Cooking breakfast better than dinner. Walking trails where nobody asks if I’m going to murder them. Old trucks, clean tools, and practical jackets. Staying prepared, because apparently “relaxing” is a skill I missed in basic training. Supporting my kids in every way, shape, and form.

LANGUAGES SPOKEN:

English, Swedish, French, Spanish, Mandarin, Korean, American/English Sign Language, Sanskrit, Persian, and Dead Latin fluently. A handful of others that are only partial.

Clara turned the laptop back to Stephanie and grinned. "Oh, that’s good. He’s going to hate every bit of it -- mostly because it’s true. Post it."

Within less than three minutes, there was a message already, followed by 54 views and 12 likes. Steph’s hand hovered over the screen when she looked at the message from a woman named Alice. At first, she thought it might be invasive to click on it, but then she decided to do it anyway.

Alice: Hi Rick, I don’t usually message people who use sarcasm as a defense mechanism since it means their frontal lobes aren’t fully functioning. You caught my attention when you mentioned in your disclosure that your children and dogs are a package deal. I have a daughter in college as well, so I know how difficult it is for someone to stay interested with that there. I appreciate the honesty and letting someone decide before diving into it. Anyway, you look like you’d be the kind of man who would enjoy interrogating someone as a first date, so if you want some pretty awful coffee, we can meet up sometime.

"If you answer that message, we’re going to have to run off and start new lives. What about Bludhaven? I hear they have some pretty nice apartments out there." Clara murmured, trying to swat at Steph’s hand when she reached for the keyboard again. "He’s going to kill you, and he knows where both of us live. I mean like, kill us, like, we’ll need the Lazarus Pit after what he does."

"She seems genuine; we can’t just leave her hanging there. I mean, what’s the worst it could do if I reply to her? She loses interest?" Steph’s hand started typing, and Clara quickly grabbed the laptop, closing it. "Clara! That’s the whole point of this experiment!"

"No, the point was to see if they’d be interested." Suddenly, the notifications kept going off, and Clara pinched the bridge of her nose. "That was seventeen messages at once. He’s going to detonate when he sees this. He hates doing paperwork."

"Then we did him a service by filling it out for him!" Stephanie frowned, folding her arms over her chest. "Fine, okay, regroup. We tell him. Let him decide if he wants to answer her."