I take a deep, steadying breath, and scold myself for being so damned anxious.
It was what it was. It’s over now. No one has to know. Put it behind you, old man.
By the time Laurie returns that night, I’ve almost convinced myself that I can.
9
19 MONTHS LATER
The late Springbreeze wafting in through the window is warm and heady with the promise of a hot Summer. The golden afternoon sun washes across the yard, and everything is dreamy and hazy - the perfect weather for a celebration.
I check my pockets for my phone, keys and wallet, then look around on the kitchen counter for my glasses and sunglasses.
“Laurie!” I call for what feels like the tenth time. “We got places to be, peanut!”
“I’m almost done!” Comes the distant reply.
“You said that half an hour ago!” I chuckle to myself, shaking my head. I check my phone to find a message from Mella, saying she’s at the house we’ve hired in the next town over for the graduation party. I type out a quick reply, telling her we’ll be on our way once our daughter stops preening.
A few seconds later, Laurie’s rushed footsteps patter down the stairs, and she bursts into the kitchen. She’s wearing a white Grecian style one-shoulder dress, her blonde hair hanging in glossy curls around her shoulders. Big, sparkly earrings set with orange stones dangle from her ears. She tugs nervously at the hemline of her dress as her big blue eyes meet mine.
“Do I look… OK?” She asks uncertainly.
I puff out a heavy breath, and shake my head as it hits me full force that my daughter is a woman, a grown woman with a college degree and a career waiting on her. She’s about to make her own way in the world, a world far, far away from me.
“No, peanut, you do not look OK.” I smile when her eyebrows almost disappear into her shiny blonde bangs. “You look absolutely radiant. The most beautiful girl in the world.”
Her face melts into a smile, and she wraps me in a hug. “Thanks, daddy.”
“Oh, peanut.” I kiss the top of her head. “When did you go on and grow up, huh?”
“It sort of happened a while ago.”
“Well, it’s extremely rude if you ask me. It went by way too fast.” I give her shoulders a squeeze as she giggles. “Come on now, time to go celebrate. They’re all waiting for you.”
Laurie furiously taps at her phone as we drive through the neighbourhood and down the back road out of town.
“Everyone is so excited,” she says, bouncing in her seat. “I still can’t believe you all put this huge party on for us.”
“All you college graduates deserve it. You worked so damn hard this past year.” I look over at her, and she gives me a smile. “Besides, you need to get in as much sunshine as you can before you move to Seattle.”
“Ha, ha,” she drawls. “I happen to like the rain.”
I grunt out a laugh. “Good, you won’t have much choice soon.”
“Dad, stop it,” she scolds, but her voice is light. Her phone pings again, and she snatches it up from the dash. “Oh, Amber’s there! She just arrived. God, I missed hersomuch, I feel like I haven’t seen her in forever!”
Great. I clear my throat, trying to clear the dry lump that forms there immediately at the mention of Amber’s name. Icover it all with a cough, trying not to make my nerves so obvious to my daughter, who continues to tap away at her phone.
“Didn’t you all just go to Mexico in, what, May?” I’m trying desperately to sound jovial, not like my heart is threatening to thump right out of my chest.
“It’s not the same though. Not when you’re around all those people and have fiances in tow.” Laurie shrugs with a little sigh. “But I guess it’s how it’s going to be now, with me all the way over on the west coast. Everything’s changing.”
I’m ashamed of myself that I’m more caught up on the wordfiancéthan I am in comforting my daughter about the huge life changes ahead of her. But my stomach does that drop, the same drop it did back at Christmas when Laurie squealed into her phone the night before Christmas Eve.Amber got engaged, she’d cried, and shoved the phone into my face so I could admire Amber’s beautiful new engagement ring. Amber and I had made almost the exact same face as we’d stared at each other for the first time since our weekend together the year before.
I mumbled out some congratulations before Laurie had snatched the phone away from me to disappear into her room as she and Amber discussed wedding dress. More cry-screaming when Laurie yelled down the stairs,I’m going to be maid of honour!
I’d taken a bottle of whiskey to my room and downed too much of it while watching the Hallmark Holiday marathon. And yes, after too much whiskey and one too many heartfelt confessions of love in front of snow-covered inns in rural Vermont, I’d cried.
