Jilted in Prague

Today’s story is from Courtney C.

Savvy Dad, you write often about sons. I am a daughter.

Sons can be jerks. Let’s call this jerk “Brad”.
He was not my first love. He was my first jerk.

Courtney and Dad, John in Rich Valley,VA long ago.

I was 23. Brad did a number on me.

Teaching English In Prague, I was living far from home. I’d just been jilted. I felt like I’d been kicked to the curb. Now, sitting at the top of a staircase, I was spying on Brad. What I observed I expected. It was not what I had hoped.

My dad had just flown in for a visit. He didn’t know. The moment I saw him, I crumbled, “Brad stole my heart, Dad. He siphoned my money, took all that I had. We dated a few months. He said he was temporarily short. I started picking up tabs. He said he lost his job. I opened my home.  

While I worked, he emptied my pantry and kept the couch warm. He left me,” I told Dad.

I was tapped out. He found a new softy to use.

My dad was a bank inspector. Reserved. The resolute, silent type. You need to know that to appreciate what occurred next. Dad’s look was like never before. Could eyes glisten with warmth while raging in fury? With as loving a voice as I’d ever heard, he soothed, “I’m so sorry, honey. Heartbreak can be part of life.”

“I need to see him one more time,” I told Dad, sniffling. Brad had my prized books. We had arranged to meet at a café nearby.

“Tell him to come here, sweetheart,” Dad said. “I’ll take care of this.”

I agreed. Arrangements were made. Soon after, a call from the lobby told us Brad had arrived. “I’ll be right back,” Dad firmly said. The door shut as he left.

I couldn’t stay away. I was consumed with curiosity. Would Brad be upset that I had not personally come? Would he bring all my things? What would Dad say?

Head low, I snuck down the hallway to the top of the stairs. A muffled exchange of voices came from below. I gulped. I crouched. I peered through the bannister, unseen from above. I looked down on Dad’s back. Brad faced him, arms filled with books.

The earth suddenly shook. My quiet father was quiet no more. “What the hell were you doing?” Dad bellowed.

It was a thunderous roar. This was Dad like never before! “You led her on. You used her. You don’t treat a woman like that. You will never say a word to my little girl again.”

My eyes bulged and grew wide.

“You’re going to get exactly what’s coming to you. I’m just the guy to make that happen. You don’t deserve to be on the same planet with my girl. You are an inconsiderate mooch.”

Brad feigned some lame excuse. What a mistake! Dad blew him away.

“I don’t want to hear it. Grow up. Grow a pair. Give me those books. Get out of my way.”

I scurried back to the room as fast as I could. I was crying a bit. I was smiling a heck of a lot more. Dad returned in moments, books in his arms. He laid them down gently. I rinsed my face. We had a quiet dinner.

Never did he say a word. Nor did I — until now.
Thanks Dad.