“Failproof,” Ellen deadpanned.
“Rae, what’s the Dustin update?” Sarah asked.
Ellen had filled Sarah and Mina in, separately, after the breakup so Rae hadn’t had to write it in the group text or endure theYou’re better off without him!clichés that would have ensued.
“No update,” Rae said, hating how truncated the truth sounded—and felt. “We don’t keep in touch.”
“I’m sure he’ll circle back at some point,” Mina said, as if this were a helpful thing to say.
Rae’s phone rang from her lap, underneath the Santa hat.
Her first thought was that the universe had heard Mina and it was Dustin. But another unexpected name appeared on her screen—Dad.
As she rushed into the bathroom, Rae’s stomach twisted at the prospect he might be calling from the hospital.
“Dad?” she said, tongue tapping the roof of her mouth to the unfamiliar syllable. “Everything okay?”
“Hey there, kiddo,” he said, and Rae relaxed at his upbeat tone. “Just realized we haven’t caught up in a while.”
There was a lot Rae could pick apart in his words, but she found herself wanting to pick things up off the ground instead. “Guess we haven’t,” she said. “What’s new?”
She regretted the question instantly, how childish it sounded, but he started talking about the outdoor patio they’d put in, big enough to fit two grills and a fire pit, and how he’d joined a new golf course, top ten in the state of Florida. “We’ll have to play there together sometime,” he said.
“Sure,” Rae said vaguely, trying not to race ahead and think about who from work she could ask for golf lessons, trying to remind herself that the trip, of course, would never happen.
“I’m sorry I never replied to that email of yours,” he said, as if Rae had sent him a news article rather than ten paragraphs of bleeding prose pouring forth her deepest hopes that they might grow closer again. “Just been so busy with work recently and helping the twins on their college applications.”
Rae felt a stab in her stomach, more sad than sharp. It didn’t seem fair that these random girls got her dad when he hadn’t been around to help Rae with her college applications. But it wasn’t about what was fair, she reminded herself. It was about finding a way to receive and appreciate what her dad was able to give rather than judging him against her old and idealistic expectations of what a father should be. And here he was, giving an apology. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d heard him say he was sorry for something,however small it was. “No worries,” she said, trying to keep from putting him on the defense.
“I’m glad you’re finally starting to realize your old man’s not so evil after all,” her dad went on, seeming to interpret this as the convenient punch line of her letter. “Karen and I would be happy to have you out here sometime.”
Many conflicting emotions stretched and contorted within Rae. He was making her feel like she’d done something wrong, but maybe the only way to make things right was to let him be right. “Okay,” Rae said. “A trip down there could be nice.” She doubted it would actually happen. It was probably just an empty offer so her dad could check the box of his fatherly duties for the day and head to the golf course guilt-free.
“Martin Luther King Day weekend?” her dad asked. “Markets are closed that Monday, so you get the day off, right?”
“That could work,” Rae said.Low expectations, high standards, she recited, that old dating mantra that doubled for deadweight dads.
“Great. I already booked your ticket. Just didn’t want you to come if you didn’t want to.”
Something leapt inside Rae, something she hadn’t even realized still had a way, or will, to get off the ground. She wanted to take this olive branch and rock it against her chest to the bedtime lullabies her dad used to sing to her when she was little.
“Just forwarded you the itinerary,” her dad said. “Karen’s already planning some activities.”
Rae wanted to ask if they could have some one-on-one time, just her and her dad, but she didn’t want him to accuse her of being immature and retract the offer altogether. She could take the deal as presented to her, or decline. She had no bargaining power for negotiation.
After saying good-bye—I love yous and all—she soaked her hands with scalding water and rejoined the Scramblettes at the table.
“Who was that?” Mina asked.
“My dad.”
“You guys talk now?” Sarah asked.
“Sometimes,” Rae said, feeling Ellen looking at her curiously.
“Told you time heals all wounds,” Mina said, though she never had. “Now let’s get some holiday karaoke going.”
“I have to get back to FaceTime the girlfriend,” Sarah said. She’d fallen for a business school classmate and had already called dibs on the next wedding after Ellen’s.
