Oona winces. “Sorry to hear that.”
We fall into silence as Oona leads the way, and my dad thumps me from behind with his trekking pole.Be nice.Iamnice to Oona; she just asks the wrong things.
“Um. I have a friend in town.” I turn back to Dad. “Max.”
“Who’s Max?” Oona asks.
“Really?” His eyes light up with recognition. My dad and I never had deep conversations. No sex talk, no emotional stuff, nothing. My parents were living apart when I returned from Dublin, so there’s a chance my mom never told him a thing. But that doesn’t explain the flash of wariness that crosses my dad’s face.
He turns to Oona. “Max was Daisy’s best friend from when she was a kid.”
“Oooh.” Oona drags out the word and nods. “Are you two still close?”
“Kind of,” I say. We reach the end of the trail and find a couple of boulders for a makeshift breakfast nook. Oona lays out blankets for padding while my dad sets out tea and fresh fruit. “We’ve hung out a few times, and there’s this combo of knowing each other but also not, if that makes sense?”
Oona’s head bobs up and down. I haven’t had an honest conversation about Max’s return to Harlow with anyone. Gwen has her own past with him, so discussing Max is as simple as a stroll through a minefield. Even my dad has his own preconceived notions. At least with Oona, she has an open mind.
“They were inseparable growing up,” my dad says, reaching for the baguette on Oona’s lap. “Always wondered why you two never went steady. You dated a bunch of stinkers back then.”
“That’s not kind, Richie,” Oona says with a scowl.
“I’m sorry. But he obviously liked you, and at least in high school, he was a good kid.”
“Just because he was a nice guy doesn’t mean Daisy needed to date him.”
“Thank you, Oona,” I say, touched to see her stand up to my dad on my behalf.
“I thought you had a tiny crush on him.”
Despite the morning chill, my body heats. I sometimes dared to consider something more with him—that moonlit dance, that transatlantic flight—but I always pulled myself together.
“We were, and are, just friends,” I say. Friends do forehead kisses. Friends do lingering stares in barns.
“Hm,” Oona says, buttering her bread. “Friendship is its own kind of love. And going from friends to lovers is difficult. All those feelings of kinship turn into something else. When your father said we should date, I needed to think about it. I wasn’t sure if I was ready to lose him as a friend.”
“Charmed you anyway.” My dad smiles at her.
I divert my eyes from their locked hands and examine the sunrise instead. We finish breakfast and enjoy the sky transforming into a brilliant blue. Crisp and clear today. My dad whips out his map and inspects it.
“There’s some abandoned mine carts off in that direction.” He points. “Want to check them out?”
“I should get back. Not all of us can be retired like you two.”
My dad clambers up and offers a hand to Oona. “Well, actually, we have something—”
“No, Pooks, let’s wait,” Oona says to him quietly. “Some other time.”
“I’d rather tell Daisy now.”
“Tell me what?” I ask.
My dad turns to his girlfriend, curling one arm around her shoulders as he beams at her. “Oona and I, we wanted to share some news with you.”
The two of them look cheery, and a heavy pit forms in my stomach. The way she’s looking at him. The way he’s pulled her close. The nervous glances at each other and then at me. Hosting weddings at The Mirage means I know how freshly engaged couples act, and I can guess what he’ll say before the words leave his mouth.
“Oona and I are getting married.”
The announcement knocks the wind out of me. “Wow,” I manage. I’m drowning on dry land, and I’m not faking anything very well because they’ve both crinkled their brows in concern. Digging deep into my heart, I summon all the happiness I can and paint on a smile to try again. “Wow! That’s…that’s incredible.”
