I woke up early the next day. I showered, threw away my shower shoes, and got ready one last time in my dorm room. I didn’t put my ring on, just in case. I put it in the zippered pocket in my purse. My dad wasn’t the most observant guy when it came to accessories, so it wasn’t likely he’d notice, but still.
My dad was at the dorm by ten o’clock to move me out. Jeremiah helped. I didn’t even have to give him a wakeup call the way I’d planned; he showed up at my room at nine thirty with coffee and donuts for my dad.
I stopped in some of the girls’ rooms, hugging them good-bye, wishing them good summers. Lorrie said, “See you in August,” and Jules said, “We have to hang out more next year.” I said good-bye to Anika last, and I teared up a little. She hugged me and said, “Chill out. I’ll see you at the wedding. Tell Taylor I’ll be e-mailing her about our bridesmaid dresses.” I laughed out loud. Taylor was going to love that. Not.
After we were done loading up the car, my dad took us to lunch at a steak restaurant. It wasn’t super fancy, but it was nice, a family place with leather booths and pickles at the table.
“Order whatever you like, guys,” my dad said, sliding into the booth.
Jeremiah and I sat across from him. I looked at the menu and picked the New York strip because it was cheapest. My dad wasn’t poor, but he definitely wasn’t rich, either.
When the waitress came over to take our orders, my dad ordered the salmon, I got the New York strip, and Jeremiah said, “I’ll have the dry-aged rib eye, medium rare.”
The rib eye was the most expensive thing on the menu. It cost thirty-eight dollars. I looked at him and thought, he probably didn’t even look at the price. He never had to, not when all his bills got sent to his dad. Things were gonna change when we were married, that was for sure. No more spending money on dumb stuff like vintage Air Jordans or steak.
“So, what do you have going on this summer, Jeremiah?” my dad asked.
Jeremiah looked at me and then back at my dad and then back at me. I shook my head just slightly. I had this vision of him asking my dad for his blessing, and it was all wrong. My dad couldn’t find out before my mother.
“I’m going to be interning at my dad’s company again,” Jeremiah said.
“Good for you,” my dad said. “That’ll keep you busy.”
“For sure.”
My dad looked at me. “What about you, Belly? Are you going to waitress again?”
I sucked soda from the bottom of my glass. “Yeah. I’m gonna go in and talk to my old manager next week. They always need help in the summer, so it should be all right.”
With the wedding just a couple of months away, I would just have to work doubly—triply—hard.
When the bill came, I saw my dad squint and take a closer look. I hoped Jeremiah didn’t notice, but when I realized he hadn’t, I kind of wished he had.
I always felt closest to my dad when I was sitting in the passenger seat of his minivan, studying his profile, the two us listening to his Bill Evans CD. Drives with my dad were our quiet times together, when we might talk about nothing and everything.
So far the drive had been a quiet one.
He was humming along with the music when I said, “Dad?”
“Hmm?”
I wanted to tell him so badly. I wanted to share it with him, to have it happen during this perfect moment when I was still his little girl in the passenger seat and he was still the one driving the car. It would be a moment just between us. I’d stopped calling him Daddy in middle school, but it was in my heart—Daddy, I’m getting married.
“Nothing,” I said at last.
I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t tell him before I told my mother. It wouldn’t be right.
He went back to humming.
Just a little bit longer, Dad.
