I told him I thought it was a good idea.
What I didn’t know was that his dating life would soon become one of the strangest mysteries I’d ever encountered.
Every Woman Was Taken to the Same Restaurant
Dad began going on dates.
At first, I heard very little about them.
I’d ask, “How did it go?”
He’d shrug.
“Fine.”
Sometimes he’d say a woman was kind. Sometimes he’d mention that they had nothing in common.
But there was one detail that never changed.
Every woman was taken to the same restaurant.
It wasn’t particularly fancy.
It was a small neighborhood place called Bellamy’s, with wooden tables, soft lighting, and a menu that hadn’t changed much in years.
Dad loved it.
Or at least, that’s what I assumed.
The first time he mentioned it, I didn’t think anything of it.
The second time, I laughed.
“Another date at Bellamy’s?”
“It’s a good restaurant,” he said.
