Page 39 of Pity Party

“That had to be rough.”

“I know, right?” Sammy jumps into the water. When her head bobs to the surface, she adds, “But it must have been comforting to know how much he loved her.”

“Life is hard for a lot of people, Sammy.” I like to remind her of this so that she doesn’t always feel like the world is gunning for her alone. Although, it’s certainly done its fair share of damage.

“It is,” she agrees while pulling herself back up onto the dock. “But now that Melissa is dating Tim, I predict they’ll fall in love, get married, and live happily ever after.”

I don’t know why that thought bothers me so much, but it does. “They’ve only been on one date,” I remind her.

“Sometimes one date is all it takes.” Her eyes glaze over wistfully.

“Maybe in the movies, but that’s not true in real life.”

“Do you know that some Indian couples meet at the altar?” she asks.

“And how many of them get divorced?” I want to know.

“Fewer than you might expect. According to the Midwestern Matchmaker, a successful marriage is about choosing to be in love with someone. It’s not some big chemical explosion.”

Ignoring that last pearl of wisdom, I pick up my towel to dry off. “Are you telling me you want to meet your husband on your wedding day?”

“No. I’m just saying that happiness can be about nothing more than you wanting to be happy. That’s something you say a lot.”

“I do. But I also think you might want to know your future husband for longer than ten minutes before you vow to love him forever.”

Sammy throws her towel at me. “You’re no fun.”

I take a step toward her. “I’m no fun? Me?” Then I reach out to her and pick her up while she squeals in delight. “Would someone who’s no fun dothis?” I swing her around and around before tossing her into the lake.

Sammy hits with a loud splash and comes up to the surface of the water laughing.

“You better watch out, Dad. I’m going to get even when you least expect it.”

“Is that so?” I run to the end of the pier while she climbs out of the water.

“You’re safe for now,” she calls after me. “But Iamgoing to get even with you.”

As we walk up the path to our rental, I tell her, “You’re going to love our new house. The deck is probably twice as big as this one, and it’s on a higher hill, so the view is out of this world.”

“Did you figure out where we’ll put the Christmas tree?” she wants to know.

“We have time to work on that, don’t you think?”

“If the house is as big as you say, we might need a couple of trees.” Sammy has always loved Christmas more than anyone I know.

“One for each of us?” I tease.

“We might need one for Rose, too.”

“Let’s get the house before we get the dog,” I tell her.

Once we’re inside, we both change into something dry before meeting back at the kitchen table. “You in the mood for a nice bowl of high fiber cereal?” This is something my mom asks my dad every morning.

Sammy mimics my dad’s deep baritone. “Just break some bark off a tree for me.”

We both laugh while I take the Golden Grahams out of the cabinet. I pull out two bowls next and fill them to the rim before pouring in the milk. Carrying our feast over to the table, I declare, “I might even have seconds.”

We’re nearly finished eating when my daughter announces, “I’m glad we’re here, Dad.”

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