“No. The last thing I need is to bring him into the lion’s den and subject the man I love to people who hate him.”
“Oh, Ang.” Harper gives me a pitiful look. “I wish I knew how you felt about him.”
I suck in a deep breath, willing the tears not to come. “It doesn’t matter how I feel. Right now, all that matters is I get through tonight without dealing with my dads.”
“That might be hard.”
Harper points to the front door as I park the car. Pops is standing outside, almost like he’s awaiting our arrival.
“I thought he was the voice of reason.” Harper unclicks her seatbelt and opens her door.
“Yeah, but tonight, I’m not feeling very reasonable.”
Pops stays where he is as Harper and I walk toward him.
“Harper. It’s lovely to see you.” His voice is calm, steady. “How has school been this year for you?”
“Uhh,”—Harper looks back at me, like she’s not quite sure what to make of this conversation—“good. I’m going to go get us some drinks. You okay?”
I nod to her, pulling my jacket tighter around me.
“Were you out here making sure I didn’t bring Troy to the party?” Bitterness laces my tone.
“That’s not fair.”
“What, like it’s fair how Dad treated Troy?” I scoff. “He treated him like the scum of the earth.”
“He was taken aback, that’s all.”
“So he’s come to his senses then?”
“Well…” He scrubs the back of his neck.
The tension on his face is obvious. Bags sit under his blue eyes. My guess is he’s been doing nothing but worrying these last few days.
“That’s a no.” I brush by him into the house.
“Angela.” His tone stops me. His teacher tone, as I called it growing up. I used to hate it when he used it on me. It meant I was in trouble. “Give him a little grace. He’s struggling.”
“Like the grace he gave me when he said it was Troy or my family?”
“He didn’t mean it.”
“It seemed like he did.” My lip quivers. Damn it. The last thing I want to do is start crying now. I only wanted to make it through the night without issue.
“Carter, go help the caterers. Make sure they know where the food needs to go.”
Grandma appears in the doorway.
“Marley was helping with that.”
“I asked you.”
He mutters something under his breath as he goes inside. It shouldn’t give me as much joy as it does, seeing him get flustered by his own mother. But it does.
“Are you okay, dear?” Grandma pulls me into a hug. The smell of her rose perfume helps to calm my racing nerves.
“No. Not even in the ballpark of being okay.”
