In those next few minutes a lot would be said with so little words and I’m sure we were both relieved. Reliving our past would have changed the mood too quickly and be mentally exhausting as well, so we just danced around it. Besides, it was a beautiful day outside and I was in a very forgiving mood. I ordered three pints of Guinness to break bread with my father and his friend and savour some of the best hours we would ever spend together. We drank, sung songs, and threw some lies and half truths at each other. He told me I was very good looking, which was true, and I told him that he looked great, which was false. Talk was little enough about my mother for we both marvelled at these moments of time almost afraid to let them go; caution crept into our words to make sure we did not. He seemed filled with a new pride as I sat beside him and looked hopeful at the other customers that they might see us too. At evenings end neither of us were visibly drunk, the excitement of it all killing the alcohol buzz in us. Eventually and unwillingly we parted company, promising each other to meet again. I left him my address for he had none, and he promised to get word to my mother that I was in town.
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