The track lighting was piled high in the corner of Mocha Daze, bent andcrumpled from Steve carelessly dropping it on the floor afterprying it loose from the ceiling.

"I put that lighting up with my own hands," I said, sounding a lotmore pathetic than I intended.

Steve mumbled something from the top of the ladder as he swiped spackle into the ceiling holes.

I tried, again, for signs of intelligent life. "Are you going toput something else up there?" I asked. "The coffee house is going to be sodark."

"Barbra and I thought it would be better if it was darker. After all,we're not a library."

"I know that!" I said, too loudly.

"Hey," he said, looking at me like I was a little child. "Yougotta trust me, Dad."

He knew that word cut through me like a scalpel. Not only was a father, I was HIS father.

"If it's dark, more couples will come. It's romantic. we'll putcandles at the tables. It'll be nice. Very Parisian."

*****

I sat in the office and steamed.

When I thought about how much blood, sweat and other bodily fluidsI put into Mocha Daze-- and how much Charley had loved the shop-- I gotmore and more angry.

*****

"I'm getting the feeling that I'm being shut out here, Steve, and Idon't like it. I may not own the majority of this shop but that shouldn't prevent me from having a yes or no vote."

Steve climbed down off the ladder and surprised me with hisanswer.

"You're right. Sometimes I can get so excited about something that I don'tinclude others in it. A bad habit of being on my own and feeling so excited about the business. I'm sorry."

He put his hands in his pocket and looked down at the floor, alittle boy in a big man's body. "We need to talk about Barbra,though."

I didn't want to talk to her or talk about her-- but knew that eventually Iwould have to. "I don't get along with her very well," I said.

"That's putting it mildly but...I want you to know that I'm on yourside here. We are, after all, blood. Nothing can change that."

I shook my head. "You're going to get married. That rulewill change."

"I don't want my father and my wife to hate each other. Give hera break. She's got a lot of rough edges and so do I."

No shit, I thought.

"So give us some time to smooth them out."

He paused, eyeing me down, then reached over and pulled me into a tender embrace-- hugging me out of the blue.

I awkwardly slipped my arms around him and hugged him back.

My son.