Paternal Instinct

Paternal Instinct

fiction
edward w pritchard

I was in College and during that fall semester I worked as a part-time cook at a local bar.

The bar sold mostly alcohol of course and only sold food to keep the patrons from going to a restaurant or home to eat in the early evenings. There was a limited menu and most everything was deep fried which was just as well because I wasn't that good of cook. The patrons didn't mind however, and ordered french fries, fried fish or deep fried vegetables with their drinks.

There was a more extensive menu on weekends but then the owner's sister cooked. The owner was a fat old Greek guy and he didn't care what I did between orders during the week, so I often sat in the back at a small table and studied for school making it an ideal job for a college student.

About a month into the job, the owner hired a waitress, who was a woman he had been fooling around with and she worked four nights during the week, 4 to 10PM. This was of no concern to me because she was not attractive to me, and I would have ignored her except she had a remarkable little daughter of about 8 years old who would sit in the kitchen with me while her Mother worked. The little girl was nearly perfect and took care of herself for the most part, which was just as well, because her Mom was not all that good as a Mother, although she did care for the little girl.

The little girl would sit and read or color and although we didn't say much we got to be friends and although I didn't know much about children I began to feel paternal towards her. I will add that I had a few girl friends with children but as I was with most of the women in my life I had been in the past selfish and concerned only with my own interests.

The little girl would come in hungry from school all day and it was OK with the owner, so I would fix her something to eat.

Eventually I became aware that "bar" food was not that good for the little girl, and I started to try and make healthier food for her out of the ingredients at hand in the small kitchen. Using what was there, I began to make her Greek salad with tomatoes, onions and cucumber, eggs and cheese or chicken fingers.

Sometimes it was drafty in the kitchen and once I had went to a flea market near the college and bought the little girl an old colorful Indian blanket to wrap up in.

That's how I learned to like and respect children, and that Fall at that Greek restaurant I found a new part of myself that I didn't know existed. Looking back years later on that, and knowing my true nature on the inside, I realize that taking care of children must be instinctive, even for selfish men.