Page 56 of Your Two Lips
“Dad!”
“A Manhattan sounds great. I’m not sharing.” I gave Em the dimples she liked so much as consolation.
“You’re okay with all of this?” her father asked.
“Dad, why wouldn’t I be?”
“I haven’t introduced you to anyone I’ve dated before. And Elena is sensitive about our relationship creating drama.”
I looked around the table, clear again that I was missing something.
“I want you to know that I care very much for your father,” Elena said.
Emily smiled warmly. “I can see that. I’m happy for you both. I don’t care about any drama.”
Elena lowered her head and leaned toward me. “A long time ago, I was married to Cliff Levitt.”
What? “The front man for ThirdyDogs?” She nodded.
ThirdyDogs had been part of the original Seattle grunge sound. My memory started playing fuzzy images of a rock-u-mentary on the band and its influence on the genre. A messy divorce, a band breakup, spiraling to Cliff Levitt being found unresponsive in his hotel room. And he left everything to his ex-wife and daughter. The headlines had not been kind, painting her as a grasping gold-digger.
“It was a tough time. Fame doesn’t change the things you think it will. If you don’t like yourself, fame and success only make it worse. Many people had opinions.” She glanced at Alan. “Being with me comes with some risk of public scrutiny.” Alan beamed like he did not give two shits about public scrutiny if he got to hold this woman. I could relate.
“Well, I say fuck all to that.” That mouth. Her father roared a laugh. “I mean it too.” Emily pointed her finger for emphasis.
The evening was warm, and Emily glowed. I caught her dad sneaking a hand under the table to touch Elena more than once. A move I was doing every chance I got, too. If he noticed, he didn’t give me the eye.
Pasta a la vodka that would make my mom take notice, wine, and a raspberry tart for dessert were all delicious. But nothing compared to the taste of the woman next to me. I wanted to make something that would last with her. Was that possible? The things, the people they knew, the freedom … what was it like to grow up with access to all of this? How could a family life on the farm with me ever compare?
37
EMILY
My father was dating.And he looked happier than I had seen him in a long time. The loss he carried in his eyes was dimming, and I was grateful to Elena for that. We all missed Mom, but she would have wanted us to find happiness. She would have wanted Dad to find someone and be happy. They loved so deeply and unselfishly, she would never have wanted to see that loss in his eyes, not even for her.
I gave my head a light shake. I grew up with my parent’s marriage of love and arguments and forgiveness. The sham the Carter’s called marriage was hardly the same, and I was more grateful every day that I was never part of that family. Instead, I had Finn. He had been by my side, taking his cues from me about whether to be glad or mad about my father’s news. Finn was everything, and he was quickly showing me a world that was better, safer, richer, and brighter with him in it.
But tonight was for the girls, Angela said. I pulled a fresh pink tank top and cropped sweater out of my ice blue Tory Burch tote and changed at the spa. Since I came directly from work, I was the first one to arrive at The Boathouse. Carrie had been busy lately, and we hadn’t talked since the race. I knew she would have questions.
Finn and I hadn’t discussed what to call us. We always found something better to do with our mouths when we were alone together. Last week, I called him my boyfriend on the boat dock, and he hadn’t flinched. I was going with boyfriend.
Jake greeted me with a nod from behind the bar. “Usual?” he asked.
I had a usual. My grin bubbled up before I could stop it.
“Perfect. Thanks, Jake.”
Tuesday night was activity night at the bar. It was Rhys’s idea, and Jake scowled on Tuesdays because of it. Some Tuesdays were trivia, which was fun, though there was an inordinate number of questions about boats, sailing, and ocean geography. Other Tuesdays could be something else. You didn’t always know what you were getting into on a Tuesday night at The Boathouse, and I kinda liked it that way. Order and predictability had been cornerstones in my former life. Being comfortable with uncertainty was another milestone in becoming someone new.
And becoming someone sexy. Finn was definitely bringing out that side of me. His interest in learning what I wanted took my fire from flicker to three-alarm blaze. I’d never had that before, and I needed all I could get until it was time to let him go.
It was open mic night, and Rhys was helping a small music group set up amps. Jake delivered my drink, and I took the first sweet sip. “Another great one.” I raised my glass to him.
“Girls’ night?”
“Yep, and ReeAnn will be here.” I gave him a wink. He didn’t deny he’d wanted to know.
“Maybe I’ll go brush my teeth and put on some cologne.” He was kidding. At least, I thought he was as he walked off.
