They’d found her already driving thru simulated water in the game Wave Rider, and after some hesitation, Brett joined in, coming in a respectable second out of two. Then, jumping to the new Pac-Man attack, Amelia proved victorious, as the last Pac-man standing, having devoured first Olivia and then Brett.

“How about this one?” Brett said, pointing at the holstered weapons of the GhostBuster machine, the fantasy game bearing no resemblance whatsoever to real guns or people.

“Sure…..I bet I can beat you at any of these,” replied the supremely overconfident teenager. Amelia stood behind and watched as the hidden father quickly taught his unknowing daughter that she was not, the supreme leader in all things, much to the irritation of the girl, who started to stomp away before her mother called out warningly, “Livy.”

The girl sighed, before turning back around. And saying, “I’m hungry.”

Brett, having ignored or missed the little scene, replied, “I’m sure our food is about ready. We can have a rematch after.”

They’d returned to the table, with Olivia climbing back into the middle of small half circle booth.

Conversation stalled for a bit while they sat, waiting for the food, before Olivia blurted, “I can’t wait for Dad to get here, so I can show him San Diego. This would be a great place to come sometime.”

Amelia gave Brett a mixed sympathetic and pained glance, while Brett turned the spoon in his hand under the table into a small ball of crappy metal.

Smiling back bitterly, Brett answered, “What do you like to do with Dryce? I only met him a couple times when you were younger.”

“Oh, Dad likes to play video games. Skateboarding too, we do that a lot. Ice cream, lots and lots of ice cream.”

Conversation stalled after that as the food arrived, and everyone began to eat, Brett much more quickly, and more more heartily, consuming the mass amounts of food he ordered, although his daughter quickly devoured her pasta before looking around as if still hungry.

“Dessert?” the waiter finally asked.

“Absolutely.”

After they ordered, and were waiting, Olivia asked, “Do you like to ride?”

“Motorcycles?”

“Duh, what else is there?”

“Olivia…..”

“Sorry, Mum.”

“It’s ok, Amelia, Olivia. I guess I ride. I never raced bikes like you. I liked driving fast cars when I was younger. Dad and I rebuilt a Camaro in middle school. Loved that car. I always liked diving and snorkeling better. Peaceful, and fun to see the sharks and stuff at the reef. Bryce was the racer.”

At that, the waiter returned with the dessert. “Although, I don’t know if Bryce would have ever raced if I hadn’t bought him and Bryan their first bikes when they were younger. I was already in the army by then, in Iraq for the first time,” and he looked briefly at Amelia as Olivia ate her dessert, “so I had my sister Bridgette get them for me. Supposedly drove Mum and Dad nuts because Bryce thought he couldn’t get hurt. I used to race him when he was younger, taught him to repair the bike. I bought him his two main racing bikes too when he decided to do it competitively. I never got to see him race much though, I was gone a lot,” Brett continued sadly, “although I saw him win a couple of big ones.”

With a mischeivious smile, Olivia slid closer to Brett, leaning into him, and looking up at him with eager puppy dog eyes, saying, “You bought him a bike? Would you buy me a bike, please, please buy me a bike, please?

Brett looked across the table, and Amelia looked back, wide-eyed but silent, waiting to see how he would respond. His face slowly turned into stone, the mask of any emotions back, before he cleared his throat, and said. “Sure, every teenager needs a bike right? I mean, there would be rules of course. We’d have to discuss it with your Mum too, and I didn’t give any rules to Bryce because he was so young, but since your older, more responsibility. Have to get good grades, have to do the research on the best bikes yourself, learn to maintain them. Stuff like that. After all, us Aussies have to show the American’s what’s what right?”

With a huffy sigh, Olivia pulled away, prompting Amelia to snap, “Be Respectful, Olivia!”

Pouting, she’d snap back, “Why can’t he just buy me a bike instead of a lecture…he sounds just like you.” Turning quickly she punches him the arm, “You should just buy me a bike, it would be in your best interests.”

“Why?”

“Because you will avoid all the pain and smackdown I will lay down on you.”

And with that, Brett bust out laughing for the first time that night, “I tell you what, I’ll give you a second option. If you train hard enough to where you can take me out in a martial arts bout, I’ll get you a bike too. So there you go. Responsibility, or put the smack down. Either one.”