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Beckoning my mother and Damian to follow, I lead everyone into the kitchen. No time like the present. Maybe I could have waited until after dinner, that way if it’s awkward at all a getaway is eminent. But it’s too late now.
“Hey, get out! We’re not done,” Isla protests.
“I think we’ll stay, thank you,” I say in a sugary sweet voice. “I already know what you’re up to, and I have an announcement of sorts.”
The cake they’ve been working on is a replica of Catherine de Medicis’ garden at the Chateau de Chenonceau in France. It’s a place I’ve long dreamed of visiting, dubbed the Ladies Castle due to how much of it was inspired by several famous women who lived there. I saw a picture of it years ago and it’s become something of an obsession. I used to say it was the place I’d have my wedding at, even though they don’t do that sort of thing there.
“You’re a brat,” Isla says, but she’s smiling as she twirls on the last of the icing.
“So are you,” my dad tells her. “Happy birthday, Willa.”
“Thanks, Daddy.”
“What’s this announcement, dear?” Mom looks vaguely worried.
“I’m in a relationship,” I say, bluntly.
“Figured as much when Fane brought you to the gala,” Dad says. “You making it official?”
He poses the question to me, not Zander, because he taught me my life decisions are my own. Cillian still tells the story of how he first asked my dad if he could ask Isla out on a date. He wanted to clear it with his coach to avoid backlash. Dad basically told him Isla would chew him out for the move. He’s not the type of man you ask for his daughter’s hand in marriage.
“Yes, I’m making it official. But it’s not just Zander and I.” I wrap my arm under Damian’s and gently tug him closer. Dad stills, narrowing his eyes. “It’s Damian, too. Dad, this is Damian.”
“You’re dating them both?”
“We’re all dating each other,” I clarify.
The room falls silent, every single person staring at me. Dad’s face is blank, just like when he’s coaching a game. He gives nothing away. I’ll take it as a good sign that he isn’t hopping over the counter to land a fist in either of my boyfriend’s noses though. Isla doesn’t look surprised, perhaps a little concerned, but not much. Mom… well, she looks… pleased? Excited?
I expected eventual understanding and acceptance, but only after a long period of them throwing questions at us. My mother doesn’t look like she has anything at all to ask. She just looks proud.
“Oh, I saw something like that on a television show a few weeks ago,” Mom says. “Polyamory is getting quite popular. I think it’s great, honestly, if you can keep jealousy out of it that is. There are so many benefits to it, much more than a traditional relationship.”
“What benefits,” Dad asks her, still with his poker face so I can’t gauge his reaction.
“More love and affection is an obvious one. Especially in life like the world of hockey. With Zander gone so often, Willa wouldn’t be left at home alone for days on end.”
“Do you not feel loved when I’m away,” Dad asks, not in a confrontational way but with genuine concern.
“Of course, I feel loved, darling. But there were plenty of times I felt lonely, especially early on before I had the girls.”
“What other benefits,” he asks, after studying her for a short moment.
“Diversity of interests. You don’t always get fulfillment in every aspect of your life from your partner. She can talk hockey with Zander, but I imagine Damian is a better conversationalist with her studies, due to his own.”
My mother must have really been drilling him for the whole ten minutes he’s been in her house. I’m just in awe of her reaction to all this, let alone her knowledge on it.
“What studies,” Dad asks Damian.
“I’m completing my dissertation this year to get my PhD in Sociology.”
Again, silence falls across the room. I can practically hear Zander’s heart beating wildly next to me. This is a coming out for him in a sense, too. He may have sounded assured of the outcome, but I wonder how much of that is that cocky athlete bravado.
They all have it, my dad, Cillian, Zander. They don’t like to admit weakness any more than defeat. They say women are attracted to men that remind them of their dad. I always hated that, it sounds creepy and condescending. As if we don’t have an imagination of what a man should be past the one who raised us, or we’re looking for another man to protect and guide us after we’re too old for our fathers to do it.
But maybe there is some truth there. Because more and more I see parts of Zan that remind me of my father.
“I’ll need to get to know you more,” he tells Damian. “But I trust Willa to know herself and what’s best for her. So, welcome to my home, Damian.”
