Page 37 of 7 Miles High
“It’s a calculated risk, Evelyn. But it looks much scarier on film.”
“That’s not true! It was very scary. Jenna and I were holding hands through the entire scene.”
The server arrives and waits for a pause in our conversation.
“Can I get you a cocktail?”
“I’ll have a Grey Goose martini, with stuffed olives.”
“I’ll have what Tom’s having,” Parker says. “A Manhattan, right?”
That gets my father smiling and opening up.
“You’re a Manhattan man, eh?”
“Among other choices. I like bourbon now and then. So Tom, what kind of work do you do?”
My father takes a sip of his drink before answering. “I’m an appraiser for Barrett Jackson. Are you familiar with the auction house?”
Parker almost comes out of his seat. “Hell yes I’m familiar. What red-blooded American male isn’t? And lots of females too. I’m a car lover. Watch the auction whenever I’m able.”
“Parker still has his first car, Dad. A 2004 Suburu.”
“Hold on to that one. The first-generation of that car just sold for a good price.”
The men are already impressed with each other.
“So we know you two met in Mexico. You were there with your friends, right?”
My mother wants more details, and Parker looks comfortable enough to share a few.
“Did your daughter tell you about our flight over there? The turbulence?”
“She said it was pretty traumatic.”
“I had to hold her hand, and I’m pretty sure I saw some praying happening. Most people were praying actually.”
“I would have died of fright,” my mother says. “I’m glad you were there to protect her, or at least comfort her.”
“I thought we were going down,” I say. “Parker looked just like he looks right now. Calm, cool, and collected.”
“It comes from years of experience. You can’t set yourself on fire or jump off a building without having faced fear yourself.”
“What about family? Do yours live in San Juan Capistrano?” My father gets to the meat of Parker’s life.
“No. My family is in Santa Monica. My parents still live in the house I grew up in, and my siblings are within twenty miles of that.”
“Our children are scattered across the United States. Only Gigi lives close by. Laguna Beach.”
“Ever been married?” My father veers from his children and cuts to the chase.
“No.”
Parker doesn’t elaborate or add any details of his past relationships. It’s just a simple ‘no’.
My father is nodding his head as if the comment requires agreement.
“Interesting,” he says, locking eyes with Parker.
