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“That’s very kind of you, kiddo.”
“Or… When you get there—if you want—we could walk to the front together, so you don’t have any trouble finding your seat.”
He set down his Jack and Coke. “Are you asking me to walk you down the aisle?”
I met his stare, my entire body suddenly made of glass. Please don’t break me. “Yes.”
“Wow, Rayne. That’s…” He cleared his throat. “I mean, I’m flattered. I just thought there might be someone else you might prefer.”
“You’re my dad.”
He stopped blustering and seemed to comprehend how much this meant to me. He nodded. “Then it would be my honor.”
I tried to swallow but my throat was malfunctioning. Nodding tightly I tried to express my gratitude. When I could finally talk, I wheezed, “Thank you for today and for….”
He briefly squeezed my fingers. “I just hope I don’t let you down.”
I desperately hoped the same.
I paid the bill and took my time preparing to leave. As we walked to the front of the restaurant, I promised to take care of all the details.
“I’ll schedule an appointment for your tuxedo fitting, and hopefully Hale can fly in so you two can meet before the week of the wedding. The guys are having their tuxedos custom-made.”
“Custom?”
“Yes, the wedding’s white tie, so everyone will be wearing tuxedos and gowns.”
“I don’t even own a suit. To think I’m gonna have my very own tux…” He whistled and I smiled. I loved that that little sound was his thing and I loved that I knew it was a quirky thing he did.
“I think you’d look handsome in one.”
He gave me a shoulder bump, the epitome of secret handshakes, and I stopped in my tracks.
“You okay, kiddo?”
The shoulder bump was one of my first moves when I fell for Hale. It was a big freaking deal and my code for saying I love you. Did he view it the same? I took a moment to catalog this as one of my favorite experiences in my whole awkward life.
I tried not to smile too brightly, but my insides were bursting with gleeful goo. “I’m great.”
We continued walking. “Is he yours?” My dad angled his chin toward the front of the restaurant where Marty stuck out like a sore thumb.
“Yup.” I hated having to say goodbye. “Can I put my number in your phone? It might be easier to text than talk through private messenger.”
“Sure.” He pulled out his cell. “What’s your number? I’ll send you a text now so you also have mine.”
I recited my number as he typed it in. A minute later, my phone vibrated. The message on the screen flashed: It’s Dad. And my heart did another cartwheel. “Got it.”
Marty held open the door and we walked outside.
“Hey, I didn’t see your truck.”
“I have Laura’s car today. She needed the truck to help Tiffany transport a set of rocking chairs.”
I frowned. “Who’s Laura and Tiffany?”
“Oh, Laura’s my wife, and Tiffany’s our daughter. She just bought a house in Upper Darby, a few miles from us.”
My insides chilled as all those warm gooey feelings turned to ice. “You have another daughter?”
