Page 89 of It Couldn't Be You
My parents rarely hosted events at their house and even more rarely made much of a fuss over Easter. It felt a little peculiar. I told him I would be there that Sunday after church. We agreed that he could handle the brisket, and I would handle the deviled eggs.
A couple of hours later, I was pushing a shopping cart through Target when I received a text from my dad. It was a group thread—in all caps.
DAD
ALL ARE INVITED TO AN EASTER BBQ AT MY HOUSE THIS SUNDAY AT 2 P.M. BRING YOURSELF AND AN OPEN HEART! SEE YOU THEN!
Bring yourself andan open heart? I scrolled through the contacts in the thread, but aside from a few unrecognizable numbers, I knew everyone. I made a mental note to discuss text message writing with my parents at a later date.
Easter Sunday, I wore a blue gingham sundress to church with a white cardigan, and a pair of white flats I’d had since I was seventeen years old. They were scuffed but fit like a dream. My hair was in a loose braid over my shoulder. I sat with my parents, we sang some of my favorite hymns, and then I drove behind my parents’ back to their house.
My dad had woken up early that morning to start smoking a couple of briskets. Mom had made a few sides and enlisted friends to bring things potluck style. I had made deviled eggs early that morning, making me late for church.
We set things out and puzzled over why Mom and Dad’s outdoor speaker wouldn’t turn on. Mom had a special punch recipe she was making. My parent’s had a big backyard so we set out a few outdoor tables and chairs for seating, as well as a long tables for the food. Then, people started showing up. Not long after the party had officially begun, I was standing with a plate of chips and French onion dip, chatting with Katie when my dad came over to us.
He looked at us earnestly. “You ladies need to socialize with the other guests.”
“What? We have been, Dad.” I laughed, a little perplexed. I glanced around the party. Everyone seemed content and happy.
“You’re not socializing hovering over by the snack table,” he continued.
I shot a puzzled look at Katie.What was he up to?
“Okay, okay, we’ll get back to socializing. Who knew you were such the host?” Katie laughed good-naturedly.
“My dad is in a mood this spring,” I said under my breath as we walked over toward a group of family friends sitting around a table. I had just settled down in a chair to chat with them when Dad popped back by.
He put his hands on my shoulders and whispered, “You should go make some of ournewerfriends feel welcome.” He pointed over toward the kitchen where a client of his and her son were talking with my mom.
My mom saw me looking, and as we caught eyes, I watched her stifle a laugh. She shot a glance at the client’s son. Things began to click.
Dad was trying to set me up.
“You want me to make your clients feel welcome?” I asked slowly.
“Yes! Come along.” He grabbed my hand and led me inside.
“Dad,” I said, feeling like a disgruntled teenager.
“Hi, Marjorie. This is my daughter, Emma.” My dad beamed as we arrived in the kitchen. Marjorie, an older woman with salt and pepper hair and a warm smile, shook my hand eagerly, “Oh, your dad just raves about you, sweetie. I’m so glad we can finally meet.”
I smiled politely. “I’m happy to meet you, too.”
“Emma, this is Marjorie’s son,Nathan,”Dad said as if he were pointing out a really good deal, all pride and encouragement.
“You and Nathan are the same age. I think your dad and I did the math and realized you were born only a month apart!” Marjorie said.
“A monthexactly!” Dad added.
I smiled at Nathan. He had a big grin that told me his mother had actually made him privy to this set up. I nervously crossed my arms.
“The twenty-first is a good date to be born,” Nathan finally chimed in. He had a warm voice.
He was taller than me with broad shoulders like someone who swam a lot. He wore light denim jeans and a big belt buckle. I glanced down and took in his cowboy boots, scuffed and brown.
“I couldn’t agree more.” I smiled at him. “Do you live in town?”
The parents immediately hushed, pleased with themselves. We were about to embark on our own conversation; their work had been done. I half expected them to high five.
