“You’re so dramatic.”
“Says the woman who threw in four extra potatoesjust in case.”
“Well, you never know.”
“I know we don’t need four extra potatoes.”
“Don’t be a party pooper.”
“I’m just stating facts.”
“Well, you can keep the facts to yourself. I’m sure your dad doesn’t want to hear it either.”
Dad hadn’t suddenly turned into a talker, and he sure as hell hadn’t become a socialite, but Presley had made it a point for us to come by when we could. We did the same with her folks, but with Dad it was different. She wanted to make sure he knew he wasn’t alone. That was Presley. She was always thinking about others, and I know it meant a lot to my dad.
It certainly meant a lot to me.
We hadn’t even knocked before he’d opened the door and said, “Evening.”
“Hey, Pop.”
Presley stepped over to him and gave him a quick hug. “Hey, there. How are you making it?”
“I’m getting by. Just like always.”
He stepped aside to let us in. House looked the same as always. Same worn-out furniture. Same dark curtains. Same damn recliner that he couldn’t seem to stay out of.
I carried the food into the kitchen while Presley followed Dad into the living room and filled him in on the latest news. It was actually kind of cute. The ol’ man soaked up every word, even when she brought up chick-shit he didn’t give a damn about. Icould tell it meant a lot to him that she cared enough to share our life with him.
Dinner wasn’t all that amazing, just some meatloaf and potatoes, but Dad seemed pleased with it. He even came in the kitchen and sat down at the table with us. But it was no surprise that he listened more than he talked. I watched him watching us, and he seemed good. Real good.
And that meant something to me.
Halfway through dinner, Presley gave me a look. When I didn’t react, she gave me a nudge and pushed, “Well? Are you gonna show him?”
“You do it.”
“What? I thought you were going to.”
“Show me what?” Dad asked, actually sounding curious.
“Go on,” I told her. “Show him.”
“You gonna tell me what this is about?”
“It’s a surprise,” I answered. “I think you’ll actually like it.”
Presley got up and grabbed the envelope from her purse, then offered it to him. He studied it, and he seemed a bit hesitant about opening it. Eventually, he pulled out the thin photo and glanced down at it. He squinted, then adjusted his glasses and leaned in closer. “This what I think it is?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’ll be damned.”
Quiet stretched across the room, and his brows furrowed slightly. After a moment he looked up at me with surprise, “Twins?”
“That’s right. She’s due in September.”
“Well, I’ll be.” He kept looking at the picture, his thumb brushing across the edge like he was making sure it was real. “Never would’ve thought it.”
