Rendor: So kid, what’s the story? We need to collaborate so I know what to tell your mother.
I frowned, turning my car up 76th, headed towards the police station. Me: Why do you always call her my mom.
Rendor sighed. Him: Because she isn’t mine anymore, she’s all yours.
Me: Lucky me.
He laughed, but it didn’t quite mask the sadness behind it. Him: Seriously though, what made you decide to put me through this crazy ordeal tonight?
I shook my head. Me: Well, it started with Romeo and Juliet, (Rendor groaned) and ended with Root Beer.
He shook his head. Him: Were you trying to seduce her?
Me: No. We were watching it for English. She asked me to stay to dinner, Mom said it was fine, her dad said he wouldn’t be home until late, and we drank to much root beer.
Him: Non-spiked?
Me: With a policeman as a Dad I don’t think I could get away with drinking alcohol, Rendor.
I was suddenly painfully aware I didn’t call him Dad anymore. It had been a long time since we had treated each other as father and son.