Page 6 of Class Act

I only had time to nod before Hillary was talking. “Daddy said I could invite a friend, and I chose Miss Thomas because this is an adult party, and she’s my only friend who is a grown up.” Hillary smiled brightly, her hodgepodge group of missing teeth making her even more darling, if possible.

“That makes sense to me,” Agatha replied. “It’s not every day your dad turns forty.”

This was his fortieth birthday? Oh boy. I’d landed myself in the middle of a milestone celebration. Fantastic. It would seem my internet searches hadn’t quite given me all the details about him.

Hillary ran her hand down the sleeve of my dress. “It’s so sparkly.”

I leaned down to whisper. “Sparkles are my favorite.”

“And it’s pink, too, just like my nails.” She pressed her open hand against my dress to show off her nails that were painted a very similar shade.

“Looks like you’re going to have a wonderful evening,” Agatha said. “I’m glad Miss Hillary will have a friend here tonight.” With a wave at another familiar face, Agatha bid me farewell and continued her mingling.

“How do you know her?” Hillary asked with round eyes.

“She’s my dad’s boss. I’ve known her a long time.”

“Your dad has a job, too? He isn’t a grandpa?” Hillary tugged at my hand to get us moving, and I followed along easily.

I assumed that to Hillary the word grandpa was synonymous with retired. “He has a job, yes. He teaches at the college, and he’s not a grandpa yet.”

“ ‘Cause you don’t have kids.”

“That’s right.”

“Do you have a brother or sister?” she asked, weaving me dangerously close to people. She was used to her small body that could flit through tight spaces, which meant I was doing a lot of apologizing and dodging. “I hope you say no, ‘cause brothers can be real dummies. But maybe a sister would be okay.”

“I’m an only child.”

I was grateful to see a waiter passing, and I put my drink on his tray. It wasn’t safe to carry it, and I’d had enough sips of the tart liquid to satisfy me.

She stopped our progress to scrunch her nose and look up at me, blonde hair bobbing in pigtails. “I think that’s lucky.”

I’d never felt that way myself at her age. Being an only child had made me an odd-man-out among my peers in this small, conservative town where families were large more often than not. I’d always begged for a sibling, wanting to share in what appeared to be the magic of family life. However, as a teen I’d come to understand that it hadn’t been in the cards for my parents, and I was okay with it. My friends had become like sisters, and that was enough.

“Maybe sometimes it’s lucky,” I replied. “But it can be kind of lonely, too.”

Her entire expression said she didn’t believe me, and I was still smiling when she hauled me to a stop in front of her father. His back was to us, and I only had a split second to smooth my hair and dress and collect my expression before she tapped him on the back and he turned around.

He was dressed in a navy suit that made his eyes pull bluer as his dark blond hair caught the lights from above. Planted on his head was a traditional paper party hat, the bright reds and yellows contrasting against his tailored, polished look. He didn’t seem self-conscious about it at all. His face was relaxed, and part of me wanted to lean in and see if he smelled as good as I’d dreamed he did. That same spark I’d experienced the other night was back, but I had learned the hard way not to trust it, so I held myself straight.

“Doesn’t Miss Thomas look super pretty?” Hillary gushed to her dad.

He dipped his head in a greeting nod making the pointy part of the hat aim in my direction. “She does. I’m glad you could make it,” he said to me. Unless I was reading him wrong, his tone said he meant it.

“Thank you for having me,” I responded graciously, remembering that Meredith had instructed me to make him drool. Sadly, the only one in danger of drooling was me.

“Did you know Miss Thomas knows Agatha? They’re friends, Daddy, just like I’m friends with both of them. And did you know that Miss Thomas’s first name is Hailey? It starts with an H just like me and Henry. Mommy’s name started with an H, too.”

A sinking sensation planted itself with needle-like talons in my chest as Hilary continued to prattle on about how wonderful I was and what things her dad should like about me. Heat blossomed across my chest, a sure sign it would move up to my face, as I dared a glance at her father who was listening with an interested expression and steely eyes. He may have had a point about Hillary plotting something. He could have been kinder about cluing me in to what was happening, but I was beginning to doubt that it had anything to do with me as a person. He simply didn’t want any part of the game Hillary was playing.

“Yes, Miss Thomas is a good friend,” he said kindly to his daughter, even though to my adult ears, it sounded strained.

“I didn’t know your mom’s name started with an H, too,” I added as my mind spun. It wasn’t exactly true that I didn’t know, but I looked to Mr. Whittaker who met my eyes over his daughter’s head. I read the ‘I told you so’ loud and clear. I managed not to make a face, but it wasn’t easy.

“It did. Poor Daddy was the only one without an H name, but Henry told me that Mommy said it was fair because we all had his last name.” Hillary smiled and grabbed my hand again. “We should go meet Grams now. I told her about you.”

“Happy birthday,” I said to her father as she yanked me away once more. If he responded I didn’t hear it.

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