Page 48 of The Wedding Run
“Oh. You’re right. Maybe.” My gaze drifts toward the window again and the blur of greenery. “Could be, I suppose. Or…”
“Or what?” Luke probes. “Is there a problem?”
“I guess not.” Feeling uneasy, I reach into my purse and pull out the Polaroid of my mom and the three of us sisters. It calms me, as if everything in that moment is right with the world.
Luke peers over at the photo. “Your mom?”
“Yeah. I was five, Charlie was three, and Elle barely two.”
“You favor your mom.”
I nod, but my thoughts fly off in a different direction. “The last time I spoke with Elle and Charlie, they said Dad was still at the Bookmark. What would be the reason? Do you think Delia and my dad are…?”
I can’t voice my concern.
“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Luke reasons, as if he's standing on the brink ready to jump with me, “the way everyone has about us. Maybe they’re dealing with fallout from the wedding.”
“But why wouldn’t they tell me?”
“Could be they’re trying to keep you from feeling the burden of all that.”
Guilt pulses deep within me. I’ve caused so much trouble.
“You could solve the big mystery,” Luke prompts, “by calling your dad and asking him.”
I grab my phone and punch Dad’s number. While I listen to the ringtone, I add, “I’m… I don’t know. Seeing Dad with another woman threw me. He’s never dated… not since Mom…”
Then the ringtone stops. I glance at the phone. “No connection.”
“The mountains are blocking the signal,” Luke explains.
I shove my phone back into my bag, my hand grazing Momma's letter. “Makes me wonder about Momma’s letter and what she wrote. Was it even true?”
“Does seeing your dad with another woman make you question that?”
“No," I say automatically, then rethink my position. "Okay, yes. Maybe love doesn’t last forever.”
“Maybe it does. After all, if your dad hasn’t dated anyone in… What? Twenty-something years?”
“Twenty-four. Dad never seemed interested in dating. When we were teens, my sisters and I tried to set him up with one of our teachers, then later a friend’s mom, who was the coolest. But he resisted and eventually declined.” I shake my head, as if tossing aside all those crazy suspicions and doubts. “Maybe you’re right about Dad and Delia…” Saying their names together makes me pause. “They probably had to do something with closing out my wedding disaster.”
I remember Charlie, Elle, and me, so proud of ourselves when we set up our beloved teacher, Miss Perkins, with our dad. Our ownParent Trap. We invited Miss Perkins to our house, saying our father couldn’t come to parents’ night, and could she come over instead. We fixed an elaborate meal of beans andfranks. We were so proud of our ten, eight, and seven-year-old selves. But the look on Miss Perkins’ bright red face when she figured it out. And the disappointment in Dad’s eyes kept us from trying that again for a few more years.
We were slicker and smoother in the next round, but it didn’t fare well then either. We decided that nobody could compete with Mom, and we let it go.
I haven’t thought about Dad dating in years. Since we’ve all flown the coop, he hasn’t seen anyone. Or has he? Could he have dated and not told us?
Again, I try to shake off the discomfort. What would it matter? Dad loved Momma. Surely, it would be okay for him to have some happiness if that’s what would make him happy.
Contemplating it all, I roll my lips inward and am reminded of Luke’s kiss—his very thorough, very hot kiss.
My gaze drifts toward him, noting the hard slant of his grizzled jaw, the dent in his chin, and the curve of his lip. What is happening to me? What is happening between us?
Something Luke said earlier piques my curiosity. I ask, “What did you learn?”
“Hmm?” He meets my gaze.
“You said you learned something about me today. What exactly?”
