He gave me a tired smile, but my reassurance never seemed to reach him.
My father was heartbroken every single time.
“I don’t understand,” he’d whisper.
“They all seemed so happy.”
I hated watching him lose confidence.
Every rejection pulled him further back into the man he had become after Mom died.
He stopped singing again.
He checked his phone every few minutes.
He reread old messages as if the answer might be hidden between the lines.
The fourth woman vanished after telling him she wanted him to meet her sister.
The fifth disappeared after making weekend plans with him.
After the sixth woman vanished, I could not ignore it anymore.
Something was not right.
Six women could lose interest.
That was possible. But six women would not all disappear in the same manner after promising another date.
I asked my father whether anything unusual had happened during those evenings.
He looked confused.
“No. Why?”
“Did you argue with them?”
“Of course not.”
“Did you say anything that could have frightened them?”
His face tightened.
“What kind of man do you think I am?”
“That is not what I meant.”
He turned away from me and began rinsing a clean mug in the sink. I knew I had hurt him.
“I just want to understand,” I said.
“So do I.”
That night, I called my best friend, Rachel, and asked her for a favor.
Rachel and I had known each other since college.
She was honest to the point of being painful.
She could charm an entire room, but she could also detect a lie before most people had finished telling it.
If my father was doing something wrong, Rachel would notice.
“Go on one date with him.”
She laughed.
“You’ve got to be kidding.”
“I’m serious.”
Her laughter stopped.
“Lola, that is your father.”
“I know.”
“And he knows me.”
“He has only met you a few times.”
“That does not make this less strange.”
I explained everything.
I told her about the six women, the successful dates, and the sudden disappearances.
Rachel stayed quiet for a long moment.
“So you want me to investigate him?”
“I want you to tell me what happens.”
“And what exactly am I supposed to say when he recognizes me?”
“Tell him we met through the app. He might remember your face, but he will not remember your name.”
Rachel groaned.
“This is a terrible idea.”
“Probably.”
“It could ruin my friendship with you.”
“It will not.”
“It could ruin your relationship with your father.”
That possibility frightened me, but I kept my voice steady.
“I need to know.”
Reluctantly, she agreed.
The date went even better than I expected.
Rachel called me afterward.
“Your dad is wonderful,” she said.
“I can’t believe nobody gave him a chance.”
I felt relief rush through me.
“So nothing strange happened?”